As soon as I entered the room I knew something wasn’t right. I stopped just inside the door. Light filtered in from the balcony window, barely illuminating the place where I stood at the opposite end of the room. I pressed the light switch and that helped. One more step into the room and I’d be by the alcove with mirrors and washbasin. You had to pass through the alcove to get to the room with the toilet and shower. The shower room had a door for privacy and from where I stood I could see that door in the alcove mirror. It stood partly ajar, and Dwayne peered out, watching me in the mirror. And in his very Dwayne-like way, he didn’t seem to realize that if he could see me, I could see him.
Chapter Thirteen
I had one bad second when it seemed that my legs weren’t going to obey my brain’s clear order to run, but after that brief moment the adrenaline hit. I dropped my duffle and ran down the hall. I slammed into the stairway door so hard it crashed against the cement wall with a metallic clang. I took the stairs at a top speed, trusting my feet not to miss a step. The banister supported me as I vaulted each turning downward. I had to outrun Dwayne, no matter what.
I nearly made it.
I thought Dwayne would chase me down the stairs. I hadn’t counted on someone coming up and didn’t even see him until I nearly crashed into him as I took a leap around the last turn downward.
“Whoa,” he said, grabbing me before we collided. Not Dwayne. Rico.
A sick feeling swept over me. Stupid vicious Dwayne worked for Rico. Killed for Rico.
“You slime. You despicable evil slime.” I tried to take a swing at him, but he tightened his grip on my arms.
“Wait a minute. What did I do?”
“Let go of me.” I struggled but he held on.
“I’ll let go. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I get it. You’re going to stall until Dwayne gets here. Does Dwayne do the torture for you too, or just the killing?”
Rico released his grip. “Valentine, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but no one’s going to torture and kill you if I have anything to say about it. I swear.”
I hesitated. “I don’t believe you.”
“Fine. Don’t believe me. Just tell me what’s going on. Where’s this Dwayne?”
“If we stand here any longer, you’ll find out. Now let me go.” I pushed my way past him, down the last of the stairs, and out the door to the lobby, Rico on my heels.
“Valentine, wait a minute.” He made a grab for my arm, but I pulled free and kept on running to the reception desk.
I scrambled over the counter and dropped down next to the reception clerk, who stared at me startled. “Call the police,” I ordered.
“What is it?” she asked, but she reached for the phone before I answered her.
“There’s a man in my room. Please hurry.” I faced Rico over the counter.
“Is that him?” the desk clerk asked.
“No.” I pawed through desk items under the counter and opened drawers. “Do you have a gun? Or some kind of weapon?”
“N-no.” She began to talk to the 911 operator, her voice shaking.
I opened drawer after drawer, but couldn’t find anything to protect myself, not even a pair of scissors. I grabbed a stapler, straightened and faced Rico on the other side of the counter. I had a pretty good arm. If he tried to come at me, I could pitch it at his head.
Rico glanced at the stapler in my hand. “What are you going to do, staple this Dwayne to the counter?”
“I’m going to do whatever it takes to stop you from coming after me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you. Why can’t you believe that?”
“Because you’re here, and Dwayne’s here and Lies-About-Her-Age was here, too, and that can’t be a coincidence.”
“Lies about her what? You’re not making sense.”
“Just stop, okay?” I turned back to the desk clerk. “Tell them the man is a killer. He’s on the FBI’s most wanted list.”
Her eyes widened in fear, but she relayed the information.
I turned to face Rico again, but he’d disappeared. Like the rat he was. That just went to show that he was guilty, didn’t it? But he’d sounded really puzzled about Dwayne. And if he’d wanted to kill me, he could have done it in the stairwell. I stared at the stapler in my hand and quickly put it down on the counter. I must have looked ridiculous, threatening him with a stapler.
I glanced around the empty lobby. Why couldn’t Lopez have stashed me in a busy hotel instead of this deserted dump? What if Dwayne had followed me down the stairs? He could show up in the lobby any second. I could use some help from responsible citizens right about now. Assuming any of those still existed.
Actually, what I really needed was to get out of there. Who knew what crazy Dwayne would do? He could still be waiting for me in my room, or he could be hiding behind the door to the stairs—with his gun.
The desk clerk continued to hold the phone. I got her attention and asked, “Are they sending the cops, or what?”
“They’re on their way. They want me to stay on the line until they get here.”
“Okay,” I said, “I’ll go see if they’re coming.” I headed for the glass front doors. Astounding that I could lie so easily now. I hadn’t even blinked.
Once outside, I headed up the street at a fast clip, checking right, left, ahead, and behind. No sign of Dwayne. Or of Lies-About-Her-Age. But what if they had a confederate? Someone I hadn’t seen yet? I looked even more closely at the people around me. They seemed not to have the slightest interest in me. I slowed my pace. I needed to sit down somewhere safe and quiet so I could think. Maybe there was a branch library in the area. That would be perfect.
My phone beeped, and the comforting thought of sitting in a library evaporated. I pulled out my phone, afraid to answer it and equally afraid not to. I pushed “talk” and said “Yes?”
“Ms. Hill?” A man’s deep voice. It tickled the edge of my memory, but I couldn’t place it.
“Yes?”
“This is Special Agent Carter of the FBI. I understand you’ve had another encounter with the man known as Dwayne. We need to talk—now.”
“Okay, if you’re from the FBI, what’s the name of the agent who was killed?”
“Which one? There were two.”
That stopped me. He might just be who he said he was. “The second one.”
“Her name was Philips.”
“First name?”
“Eugenia, but everyone called her Phil.”
I flashed on Phil’s crooked smile when she’d said, “Call me Phil,” and my throat closed up.
“Ms. Hill? Are you still there?”
I cleared my throat. “Where do you want to meet?”
“That’s you walking up the street from the hotel, right? I’m in a Lincoln Towncar half a block away, heading toward you.”
It was getting dark. I could see only headlights. How was I supposed to recognize his car? “The cops tell you that Dwayne showed up here?”
“Something like that.”
“And they still haven’t showed up.” The words were barely out of my mouth when two cop cars, lights flashing, screeched around the corner and sped past me toward the hotel. “Or, I guess they’re here now.”
“Right. So let’s get you out of sight.” A car with tinted back windows pulled up at the curb. A tall black man dressed in FBI-standard suit, shirt, and tie emerged from the driver’s side and approached me. “Before Dwayne or his cohorts spot you.”
I could still hear him on my phone, but he wasn’t holding a cell himself. Then he turned his head slightly, and I saw a small Bluetooth in his ear.
He opened the door to the backseat for me. I got in and waited until he was behind the wheel. “I’d like to see your identification.”
He pulled his ID out of his jacke
t pocket and handed it to me. I flipped it open. It was just like Phil’s. Special Agent Carter was who he said he was. I didn’t have to jump out of the car and run away. All the tension that had been holding me together since I’d seen Dwayne, left my body, and I started shaking all over. I handed Carter’s ID back to him, leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.
“Are you all right?”
I opened my eyes. That voice. I knew I’d heard it before. “You came to help Phil, didn’t you? When the other agent was killed.”
“That’s right. You saw me? When you were supposedly lying down?”
“No. I heard you talking to Phil in Elizabeth’s apartment, right before I climbed down the fire escape. You have a distinctive voice.”
“Are you going to run out on me again?”
“I ran because I didn’t believe that you were FBI. Things are different now.”
“That’s good to hear. Now, if you’re done vetting me, I’d like to get moving. Buckle up.” We pulled away from the curb, and he muttered something I couldn’t hear.
“What did you say?”
He turned his head slightly. “Sorry, I was on the phone to SAC Williams.”
“Oh. Is that where we’re going? To see him?” Just what I didn’t need—another go round with the big boss.
Carter looked at me in his rearview mirror. “You don’t want to talk to him?” My reluctance must have come through in my voice.
“In a word? No. You’ve heard of giving someone the third degree? He gave me at least the tenth degree after Phil was killed.”
“He’s going to leave the questions up to me this time. He’s busy orchestrating the manhunt for Dwayne. And right now I’m busy making sure no one’s following us, because it looks like someone’s been keeping tabs on you. Seems like Dwayne has had some help.”
I opened my mouth to tell Carter about Rico, then closed it again without saying anything. Why was I hesitating? Rico was following me all right, but I wasn’t sure he was helping Dwayne. Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe it. I rubbed my temples. I must be losing it. Dwayne-helper or not, Rico was trouble. And, he was in on something with Kroy. I had to tell Carter what I knew. “Agent Carter?”
“Yes?”
“Where are we going?”
“North Beach. Get some Italian takeout. That okay with you?”
“Sure. But I have something to tell you. There’s this guy, Rico DiSera? He’s from New Jersey, and Kroy’s doing some deal with him. I don’t know what the deal is. Yet.”
“That’s okay. We know about it.”
“That’s good. But did you know he followed me to my hotel?”
“Yes.”
I sank back against the seat. They knew about Rico. I’d been worrying for nothing. We rode in silence in slow traffic. Carter left the crowded street we’d been inching along and turned into an alley lit only by the light from an open doorway. We pulled to a stop outside the open door, and I could see a busy restaurant kitchen inside. A man stood outside in the shadows, smoking a cigarette. Carter rolled down the passenger side window and said, “Hey, DiSera, ditch that butt. This car is a no-smoking zone.”
DiSera? I jerked around and peered through the tinted glass. The shadowy figure approached the car and opened the door to the backseat. “Hey, Valentine,” Rico said, giving me his charm-the-shirt-off-your-back smile.
I tried to slide away from him, but couldn’t because of the seat belt. “Agent Carter, what’s he doing here?” I fumbled with the seat belt release.
“Damn it, Carl,” Rico said. “You were supposed to tell her.”
“Tell me what?”
“It’s okay,” Rico said. “Just hang on a minute, all right? Pop the trunk for me, will you Carl?” Rico closed the car door, disappeared through the open doorway and reappeared in a few moments carrying a large white plastic bag in one hand and a familiar-looking duffle bag in the other. He dropped the duffle in the trunk, circled to the other side of the car and climbed into the backseat. He carefully placed the plastic bag on the seat between us.
“Is that my duffle bag? What are you doing with it? What’s going on?”
“I went up to your room looking for this Dwayne character. He was long gone, so I picked up your bag because I knew you’d need it. And I called Carl so he could pick you up and explain things to you.” He lifted a white Styrofoam box from the plastic bag and tried to hand it to me.
I batted his hand away.
He jerked the box out of my reach. “Watch it. This is the best gnocchi Bolognese in San Francisco. You should treat it with more respect. Here, Carl.” He held the box out to Carter.
“Forget the gnocchi and give me some answers,” I said.
“I was just about to do that,” Carter said from the front seat. “DiSera is helping us out. He’s a CI.”
“CI? What’s that? Complete idiot? Criminally insane? All of the above?”
“He’s a confidential informant. I’m telling you this only because he thinks you can be trusted not to give him up to Kroy.”
“Tell her what you want from her,” Rico said.
“You’ve been inside the Kroy house. Have you seen or heard anything at all about his business dealings, or contacts with people like Rico?”
“Not yet, but that’s my plan.”
“For real?”
“That’s what Elizabeth said she would do for you, right? So she wouldn’t get sent to jail? Only, you’ve guessed by now that she never intended to hold up her end of the deal.”
“Forget it, Valentine,” Rico said. “You should go home before you get me or yourself killed.”
“You could have gotten killed without any help from me if Dwayne had still been in my hotel room.”
“I bet you’d be a lot less crabby if you ate something. Here, take this.” He pulled out a second Styrofoam box. “Let’s see if I’m right.”
“You arrogant…I just might kill you myself.”
“Kids, don’t make me come back there,” Carter said. “I’m going to pull up behind this dumpster so I can eat dinner. And you two stop fighting so I can eat in peace. We have some important things to talk about.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Eat first.” Carter pulled the car over and turned off the engine. The light from the restaurant kitchen cast a dim illumination into the interior of the car.
Rico handed around napkins and plastic forks. Carter started eating, and the warm smell of good food filled the car. I opened my own Styrofoam box and shoveled the gnocchi into my mouth. Even if it wasn’t the best gnocchi in San Francisco, I’d have eaten like a starving animal. I couldn’t remember my last meal.
“Okay, I’m done,” I said eventually. “You were going to tell me about Kroy?”
Carter twisted around in his seat so he could see me. “Here’s the deal. Kroy is into some seriously bad stuff. He raises money to buy drugs for kids with AIDS in different countries—Thailand, South Africa, all over.”
“Ashley mentioned that to me. She says he’s a big humanitarian. What does he do? Take the money for himself?”
“Worse than that. He buys the drugs okay, but he also buys phony drugs. He ships the fakes overseas and sells the real ones on the black market.”
“Sounds like you already know enough to arrest him. What do you need me for?”
“He’s slippery, and he has friends in high places. Our goal is to bring down the whole network. Kroy, the black marketers he deals with, and most of all the drug counterfeiters. We’ve never been able to get even a whiff of them.”
“Tell me what I need to find out and where to look for it.”
“Not so fast,” Rico put in. “What he’s not telling you is that the FBI already had one CI who was supposed to know something about the fake drug makers. They found him trussed up on his stomach, legs bent, rope kno
tted around his ankles and looped around his neck. So when he couldn’t hold his legs up any longer he slowly strangled. They couldn’t tell if that killed him or if he bled to death, because they also cut out his tongue. Since then, no one wants to help them.”
I gulped. “So that’s who Dwayne works for?”
“Wait a sec,” Carter said. “I’ve got a call.” He muttered at his earpiece.
I put my Styrofoam box on the seat and pulled a quarter out of my pocket. I did a basic routine of palm and pass, French slip, and thumb palm vanish. I started at half speed and slowly went faster. I made myself focus only on the coin to block the gruesome image Rico had drawn.
“Is that your magic act?” Rico asked.
“I hate waiting so I always use the time to practice. I’m getting rusty. I haven’t been able to practice since I left Vegas.”
“Bobby talked about seeing your act. He was pretty impressed. I can see why. You’re good.”
“I’m not interested in impressing creeps.”
Rico leaned toward me and whispered. “Are you referring to Bobby or to me?”
The quarter slipped from my hand to the floor of the car. I bent over and felt around for it.
“Here,” Rico said. “I see it. I’ll get it for you.” He reached over and his hand brushed against mine.
I jerked my hand away and straightened.
He held out the quarter and dropped it into my outstretched palm. “You didn’t answer my question.”
I didn’t intend to answer it. I was already way too attracted to the man. He might be helping the FBI, but he was still a gangster—or worse. “Why did you follow me from Kroy’s to the hotel?”
“I didn’t exactly follow you. Carl located you through the GPS signal.”
“What GPS signal?”
“The one in your phone.”
“You mean the so-called demo phone that some guy who supposedly owns a phone store let you have?”
“As it turns out, that guy was Carl.”
“And that’s how you knew I went to Kroy’s house?”
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