Vendetta in Death (In Death #49)(99)

To solve the issue, Eve turned to Hermine. “Adjoining suite?”

“Ah …” No longer so stoic, Hermine crossed the room, knocked on another door, cracked it open. “Mr. Brinkman,” she began.

Another tech pulled the door wider. “He hasn’t come in yet. We’re on the clock. He’s going to miss his massage!”

With alarm bells sounding in her head, Eve strode back to LaDale. “Have you spoken to him since he landed?”

“No, because he hasn’t bothered to answer his ’link. I talked to him when he was on the shuttle, and that’s it. Now he’s ruining everything.”

“What’s his car service?”

“How the hell am I … Hermine!”

“Yes, ma’am. Mr. Brinkman uses Luxe Rides.”

Eve dragged out her ’link, got the contact.

“Will you get out? How am I supposed to fricking relax? Ulysses! I’m going to get lines in my face from all this stress.”

“Never,” he purred, and began slowly, carefully removing the goo.

Disgusted, Eve walked out of the room, stood by the door.

“Luxe Rides. Abigail speaking.”

“Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD, regarding Linus Brinkman. Did your company pick him up at the transportation center this afternoon?”

“Could I please have your badge number, as that information is confidential?”

“Christ.” Eve rattled it off. “Check it. Fast.”

“Just one moment.”

The screen went to holding blue while Eve paced.

“Thanks for waiting. Mr. Brinkman canceled that pickup, as his trip was extended. How else can I help?”

“How did he cancel it?”

“Ah, I see we received the cancellation from his office at two-ten this afternoon. Is there a problem?”

“Yeah.”

Eve clicked off. Hermine, who’d hovered, eased closer.

“Lieutenant, Mr. Brinkman contacted Ms. Gerald, from the shuttle, after that. I know it had to be nearly three, as the stylists and technicians were here, setting up for her. There’s been some sort of mix-up.”

“You think?”

Furious, Eve headed out, using her ’link as she went. “Baxter.”

“We’re nearly there.”

“I want to know if you see anyone go in or out. I think she has another one in there already.”

“Can you get a warrant?”

“I’m working on it. Any activity, in and out of the gate, on the grounds, any, tag me.”

She toggled from him to Peabody as she sprinted across the lobby. “She broke pattern,” Eve said as soon as Peabody answered. “I’m going to the transpo station to view the security feed, but she had to pick Brinkman up there when he landed.”

“How did—”

“I’ll explain later. Tell the cab to turn around. Meet Baxter and Trueheart at the Callahan house. They’ll be staked out shortly.”

“I’m getting out, taking the subway. It’ll be faster.”

“Fine.” She jumped in the car, tried Roarke.

“Three in one day,” he said, “and a gala tonight.”

“Forget the gala. She snagged the target. Under my fucking nose.”

His easy smile vanished. “Where are you?”

“Heading to the transpo center to see how she did it. I need something, some fucking thing to wrangle a warrant because I know she’s got him in there.”

“I’ll meet you at the station. You may need an EDD man,” he said before she could protest.

“Yeah, yeah, I may. Gotta go.”

And thinking EDD, she tagged McNab. “Clear it with Feeney. I need you on an op. Clear it and hook up with Baxter, Trueheart, and Peabody at Eloise Callahan’s address. Check with them on where they’re staked out.”

“On it. Do you want the van?”

She considered; though she hoped not, why risk it? “Yeah, yeah, bring the van. Move it.”

She hit the sirens, the lights, and moved it herself.

Even with that, a double-parked delivery van, then a jackhammer-wielding road crew cost her valuable time.

She pushed her way through the transpo center to the private shuttle terminal. When she pulled to the curb, jumped out, security blocked her way.

“You can’t leave that vehicle there.”

She pulled out her badge. “I’m a cop. I need—”

“Then you oughta know the law, am I right? No unattended vehicles in this zone. Move it or lose it.”

“I need to see the feed for—”

He expanded his chest. “You ain’t seeing nothing till you move that ride. Parking’s through that gate.”

“For Christ’s—” She considered arguing, seriously considered kicking his ass. But calculated either would take more time than just parking her damn ride.

She jumped back in, drove through the gate, pulled into a priority, reserved spot, ignored the automated warning telling her she had no authorization. She flipped on her On Duty light, giving the warning a hiccup while it processed the new data.

And sprinted back to the terminal.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” curb security asked with a smirk.