Annabel’s phone rang, and the call lasted no more than ten seconds. “Let’s go,” she said.
Tobias took the bag from her and slung it over his shoulder. They ran down some side stairs, their path clear. Annabel peered outside for a second upon reaching the bottom. She then edged back toward Tobias. “I can see his car. It’s a black BMW.”
Tobias placed the back of his head against a wall and breathed deeply.
“On 3 you go,” Annabel said, “and don’t look back.”
Tobias nodded firmly. Annabel waited for a moment before counting. On 1, Tobias dashed out on to Pierrepont Street, the black BMW no more than twenty steps away. He heard Annabel’s footsteps close behind him. He reached out for the door’s handle, but a voice halted him.
“Don’t move,” a woman said. She pointed a Glock straight at his head. He put his hands up, and Annabel—inches behind him—did the same.
The woman was large-busted and had long dark hair—he recognized her as one of the agents in the park. She held her FBI badge up with her left hand, her right hand still pointing the gun at them. “I’ve got them,” the woman said into a radio. “We’re on the corner of—”
A gunshot pierced the air and blood spread from the woman’s stomach. She dropped to the ground, grimacing in agony. Tobias looked back and saw a tall man a few yards away holding a sniper rifle. He didn’t instantly recognize the man. From a distance, his arms and neck seemed to be covered with tattoos. Before he could study him any further, a black Mercedes sedan pulled up and he got in and was driven away.
“We’ve got to go, Tobias,” Annabel shouted.
The driver of the BMW—a brown-haired man—also urged Tobias to hurry. He put one foot in the car and looked back at the fallen agent, who was stirring on the ground. After closing the door, the driver spun around and sped off. Tobias looked back to see a couple of men rushing toward the injured woman.
22. Nighttime Excursions
Tobias rocked in the reclining chair in the living room, oblivious to how much time had passed since he had been sitting there. The clock said 12:30 a.m., but he was still no closer to making a decision about what to do. That Annabel had not come out once told him that she was fast asleep, as was their latest host.
Like the place they had hidden out in when the FBI was chasing them, this apartment was spacious and luxurious. Annabel had told him it belonged to Martin, the longtime acquaintance of hers who had picked them up. Like the woman in the other apartment, Martin didn’t talk much, and whenever Tobias tried to make conversation with him, Annabel interrupted and changed the subject. The constant developments and the lack of answers ate at Tobias and made him feel naked and in the dark. Who was the tattooed shooter? Why had Penelope been killed? Was his grandfather’s death connected to the others in any way?
He glanced at the suitcase by his feet and winced. Was he doing the right thing? He had no reason to distrust Annabel, but things were no longer adding up. He had to take control of the situation. He felt for the Glock in his pocket and the MPA he had taken from Annabel’s bag, tucked inside the front of his pants.
He took a deep breath and rose, the sheet of paper he had been holding for the past twenty minutes now slightly creased. He hated that he had to communicate with Annabel in this way, but a face-to-face conversation would result in her trying everything in her power to stop him. He lifted the note and read it for the third time since he’d finished writing it:
I’m extremely grateful for everything you’ve done for me, more grateful than you could ever imagine. I really wish we could have met in another life, but it is what it is. I don’t think I can run away to Germany while Penélope’s killer still runs free, but at the same time, being around you will just be putting you in more danger. I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking about my grandfather’s death as well as Connor Murray’s, and something just isn’t adding up. I’ve contacted some friends of mine, and they’ll help me get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. Hopefully, I might even be able to clear my name without running. I hope to see you again someday, but until then, stay safe.
Tobias.
He put the note on the coffee table in the middle of the room and placed the TV remote on top of it. He glanced around the room and walked toward Annabel’s room but stopped after three steps. I can’t see her. Not now. Not till all this is over. He picked up the suitcase and shook his pocket where the keys of Martin’s BMW were. He had heard him tell Annabel that it was theirs to use whenever they wanted to. They’ll probably just get another one within a day anyway. She always does.
He took nearly a minute to shut the front door, trying to close it as silently as possible. The corridor that faced him was long and dimly lit. He flipped the hood of his jumper over his head and tiptoed for a few seconds before stopping to listen for any sounds. Nothing stirred. He felt for his guns again—they hadn’t moved. He continued walking toward the elevators, increasing his pace until he broke into a mild jog.
The doorman on the ground floor had his head against a large chair, his eyes closed and his mouth open. Tobias looked up at two security cameras pointing in his direction. Nothing I can do about that now. He walked steadily and paused when he was opposite the guard. The sound of snoring filled his ears, and he rushed out the door.
Outside, Tobias glanced right but didn’t immediately see the car. After twenty seconds of walking, the pearl-black BMW came into view. A press of the alarm button opened it, and he popped the trunk and put his bag inside. Just then, a light shone in his face—a car was coming down the road. He leaned into the trunk as if looking for something. He watched the car make a left turn seconds later and ran to get into the driver’s seat. After starting the engine, he drove down Columbia Heights and turned right onto Clark Street.
He parked the car fifteen minutes later near Fourth Avenue and stayed in the car for a few minutes. A number of pedestrians walked past, some drunk. He took his bag from the trunk and crossed the road, eventually emerging on Thirty-third Street. He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and glanced at it. Then he removed his hood and looked up. He had arrived at the correct hotel, the BPM.
***
The cappuccino scalded Tom’s mouth. He had never been a big fan of hospital coffee, but having had only an hour’s sleep on an uncomfortable chair, he needed as much caffeine as possible.
He returned to Emma’s ward and leaned against the door. He watched his partner lying motionless with an oxygen mask over her mouth. He could have kicked himself for not being able to prevent her shooting. The doctors had initially said her chances were slim. The bullet had been an armor-piercing type and ripped through her vest, causing extensive damage. But after emergency surgery, the hospital gave her a fifty-fifty chance of survival.
He pulled a chair to the bed and turned it backward. Holding her hand, he wished there were more he could do. He had sent her husband, Jeremy, home when it got to be midnight, promising to stay there all morning if he had to. He initially thought he was doing so out of obligation but soon realized he couldn’t have gotten himself to leave her if he tried.
Shortly after 2 a.m., the door opened and the deputy director walked in. “How is she?”
Tom turned back to his comatose partner and shrugged. “They don’t know exactly, but they say her chances have improved since she first arrived.”
Wheeler closed the door, walked in and put a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “What happened out there?”
Tom shook his head. “They knew everything we were doing. They knew just when to escape. We’d been covering that street most of the time, and just a few minutes after we rotated, they used that window. Emma must have decided to stay back when she saw them.”
“And the shooter?”
“We don’t know, but it couldn’t have been either of them, judging by the distance and the bullets. It was definitely a sniper. I’m telling you, sir, they knew.”
“What’re you saying? She has someone in the department, too?”
/> Tom stared at him dumbfounded. “What if we’re looking at this all wrong? What if she’s been working with Antonio all along, or even Juan? We’ve always known that they could have people in both the NYPD and the FBI.”
Wheeler pulled up another chair and sat down. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You even said it yourself—word on the street is that Juan and Antonio are both trying their hardest to find them.”
Tom put his hands on his head. “Whatever is going on, we’re always a step behind.”
“What about Annabel’s mother?”
“We’ve still got a squad car there.”
“Do you think it’s maybe worth talking to her again?”
“What’s the point?” Tom moaned. He hit his hand against the back of the chair. “Annabel won’t go back there. It’s all falling apart, sir. We have no other lead.”
“Not quite,” the deputy director said. He handed Tom a sheet of paper that looked like a flight itinerary.
“What’s this?”
“Take a look.”
“Hector Guerrero, coming here?”
“Exactly. Something major is going down for him to be coming.” He rose to his feet. “Now, I’ve got a few people on this, but I want you to establish a connection between all these deaths and Hector coming here. It can’t be a coincidence.”
Tom nodded and rubbed his eyes.
“When did you sleep last?”
Tom stared at him and shrugged. “I don’t need sleep. My partner almost died yesterday.”
Wheeler knelt beside him. “Go home, son. Get as much sleep as you can. This case is about to blow wide open, and you’ll need your strength. I’ll get someone to sit outside her room. She’ll be in good hands.”
23. Choices
Tom gulped down the rest of his coffee and nodded. Wheeler put his arm around him and they walked out of the room. As they headed toward the exit, Tom caught sight of two men walking in. He scowled upon realizing they were Antonio and Fernando.
“Sir,” Tom said, alerting Wheeler to their presence.
“Be cool, Tom,” Wheeler said. “Let’s just walk out of here.”
As they got closer, it became apparent that the comisionado had a wide grin on his face. “How we doing, Saddle?” Antonio said. “I’m sorry to hear about your pretty sidekick. I heard she took a bullet.”
Tom lunged for his collar and pushed him against the wall. “What the fuck do you know about that? Was it you?”
Wheeler pulled Tom away by the waist and slammed him against the opposite wall. Fernando stood beside the comisionado with his arms folded.
“I’m okay,” Tom shouted.
“You sure?” Wheeler said.
Tom looked into his boss’s eyes and nodded. Wheeler relinquished his grip and took a step back.
“You’re getting desperate, aren’t you?” Antonio said. “Annabel is making you guys look like fools and now you want to put the blame on me.”
Tom edged toward Antonio, but Wheeler restrained him. He shook his head at his boss and raised his right hand. Tom then faced Antonio again after Wheeler released his hand. “She’s working for you, isn’t she?”
Antonio laughed. “She’s helping the bastard who killed my girl and you think she’s working for me?”
Tom put his mouth beside Antonio’s left ear. “I’ll be watching every move any of you guys make,” he whispered.
“You do that. Let’s see what you can dig up.”
“You’ll pay for your crimes, Antonio. That I can promise you.”
Antonio glared at him. “Are you arresting me, Agent?”
Tom glanced at Wheeler and back to Antonio.
“That’s what I thought,” the comisionado said. “Now, if you’ll get out of my face, I’ve got someone to see.” He nodded at Fernando and continued toward the reception desk, grinning at the deputy director.
Tom leaned against the wall and buried his face in his hands.
“What the hell was that?” Wheeler shouted.
“I can’t stand that asshole.”
“None of us can, but you’ve got to get your shit together. Do you understand me?”
Tom nodded.
“Then go home and get some rest. I’ll see you in the office.”
***
Rico’s face ached every time Marie made him laugh. She had been telling him stories about some of her friends and their relationship issues. He admired that she hadn’t left his side since his admission to the hospital but wished she would go home and get a decent night’s sleep
As she spoke to him, he could sense the pain and anguish beneath her attempts to keep her spirits high. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tenderly. “I love you so much.”
She burst out crying and hugged him, her tears falling onto his face. “I can’t ever lose you. I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“You won’t lose me. Everything will work out eventually, you’ll see.”
She scowled. “Eventually? So lying here like this hasn’t opened your eyes? This life will just end up getting you killed.” More tears fell from her eyes. “If it’s not Juan’s people, it will be the police.”
The door clicked open and Antonio walked in. “How’s my boy doing?”
Rico forced a smile at his comisionado.
“Antonio!” Marie said.
He embraced her. When he pulled away, he said, “Do you mind if I speak to your man for a sec?”
Marie glanced at Rico. “He needs his rest. This is no time for business.”
“It’s not business. I just need five minutes and he’ll be all yours again.”
“It’s okay, honey,” Rico said. “Wait for me outside.”
Marie smiled at her boyfriend and left the room.
“Fernando, stay with her, would you?” Antonio said.
Fernando looked at the comisionado for a few seconds and then left the room, too. Antonio took a seat beside Rico and leaned close to his ear. “Can you believe that Juan hasn’t even tried to call me?” he whispered. “He’s coming after me next, isn’t he?”
“They know.” Rico coughed. He strained to speak into Antonio’s ear. “Joachim’s car. Some kids took a shot of it half an hour before that thing happened.”
“Fuck,” Antonio said, raising his voice slightly. “Does my uncle know I was involved?”
Rico shook his head. “If I told him that, I wouldn’t be here.”
“So we’re still good?”
“I don’t know. After what you did to Reynaldo, things might have changed.”
Antonio laughed softly. “My uncle will never hurt me, even if that bastard Jorge wants him to. No, this just means we have to speed things up. We’ve got to make our move, and we’ve got to make it now.” He leaned closer. “Right now, Rico, you’re the only one I trust to do what needs to be done.”
“I’m no good to you now, boss. Look at me.”
“But you can still use your arms and legs, can’t you?”
Rico smiled. “What do you need me to do?”
The comisionado paused for a few seconds before whispering into Rico’s ear again.
***
Antonio held the door open for Marie and she returned to her boyfriend’s side.
“Take care of him for me, would you?” Antonio said.
Marie nodded and squeezed both of Rico’s hands. Antonio nodded at his ejecutor, and Fernando followed him out of the room.
“What did he want?” Marie asked.
Rico arched his lower back and grunted.
“What’re you doing? You might hurt yourself.”
“I’ve got to get out of here. Antonio needs me.”
“No, Rico. Do you—”
“I don’t want to hear it. All you do is complain and complain. I’m the one who nearly died. No matter what happens, I’m not running.”
“You won’t be. You’ll be starting a whole new life for us and our child.”
Rico’s eyes widened. Marie laughed, tears falling from her eyes. “That
’s what I was going to tell you the other night. I’m pregnant.”
Tears poured from Rico’s eyes, too. He held his arms out and Marie embraced him.
“I can’t believe it,” he said. “I’m going to be a dad.”
“A great dad. Let’s just go—me, you and our child. It will be like it was when we first met. We’ll be a real family. I won’t have to wait by the phone every night you come back late. You can even work for my uncle in his art gallery if you want.”
Rico wiped his eyes and looked toward the door, his face filled with anguish. “Please, Marie, I told you to drop it.”
She leaned toward him and squeezed his arm. “Okay, I won’t say another word.” She wiped a tear and stood up. “I’ll be right outside.” As she pushed the door open, she turned around. “I love you.”
***
Sweat continued to pour from Tom’s face on the way home. Anger stirred within him, and he was breathing heavily. He recalled Emma lying on the floor, gasping for air and desperately trying to tell him something. She can’t die. I can’t lose them both.
When he arrived, the clock in his car said 4 a.m. He sat in the driver’s seat for a few minutes, trying to think of anything he might have missed, even the smallest bit of information. His case was falling apart and people were dropping dead around him. He needed something to ease his mind and wished he could fight the urge. Just then he received a message on his phone and promptly sent one back.
Five minutes later, a tap at his window startled him. He looked up to see a square-jawed Hispanic man in a baseball cap. He rolled the window down. “Not here,” he whispered. “Anyone will be able to see.”
The man walked across the road and turned into a dark alley. Tom closed his eyes for a few seconds and took deep breaths. After getting out of the car, he locked it and walked to the alley.
24. A Friend of the Family
The scrambled egg and muffins did nothing to satisfy Tobias’ hunger. He was just as hungry as he had been when his breakfast arrived. He glanced out the window to see scores of pedestrians walking up and down—as he had done all morning—many hailing cabs. He frowned after seeing that it was 11:30 a.m. His flight landed at 9. He should be here by now. What if—
The Kiss after Midnight (The Midnight Trilogy) Page 21
