Deadlock (FBI Thriller #24)(44)
“I really do hate to lay this on you, Chief, but I was ordered to come to see you if I got myself into trouble. And I did.”
He came to a standstill. “Ordered? Who are you?”
“I’m Special Agent Pippa Cinelli, FBI. Ah, I really need to borrow your cell phone right now. My boss has got to be worried I didn’t check in. He isn’t going to like this at all. Could you please shut off the living room light? Just in case he’s snuck up on the house?”
She was a fricking FBI agent? Why would the FBI send an agent to St. Lumis? What was going on? Why hadn’t she identified herself Saturday night at the Halloween party? Par for the course, the federal yahoos hadn’t bothered to alert him, to give him any warning at all. He’d find out why soon enough, but first things first.
A moment later, they stood in the dark and he was speaking to the single deputy she’d seen in the police station. “Yes, I want you to patrol around my house, make a circuit of the neighborhood, call me immediately if you see anyone, specifically a man in a black hoodie.” He punched off, said, “All right, let’s go to the kitchen.”
Wilde took her arm, led her down a short, dark hallway, and flipped a light switch. He walked her into a roomy, old-fashioned kitchen with dark cabinets and scarred granite surfaces that were, to her surprise, covered with gleaming modern appliances. Blue wallpaper with huge hydrangea blooms covered the walls. The room was cozy, welcoming, and warm. He sat her down at an old oak table topped with a mason jar filled with daisies, a small basket of napkins, and old-fashioned glass salt and pepper shakers. Why was she paying attention to any of that? To distract from her fear? She rose and walked to the back door, locked it. She pulled the curtains over the three kitchen windows. “Chief Wilde, would you please turn on the hall light and turn this one off? He could still see us through the windows.”
Wilde said nothing, did as she asked. When he came back, she was again seated at his table. He said, “Could you identify this man looking for you? This Black Hoodie?”
“Unfortunately, no, only his profile, really, but I got the impression he was on the younger rather than middle-aged side.”
“All right. Stay seated. You’re safe here.”
Pippa started to pick up the salt shaker, realized her hand was bloody, and pulled it back. “My hands—I didn’t realize I’d cut them so badly.” She looked up at him, blinked. “You see, my hands were tied behind me, so I had to cut myself loose on a sharp hook.”
He said, “I should take you to our urgent care facility.”
“No, please, I’d rather not leave here. I don’t think the cuts are bad enough to need stitches. But the blade was filthy, and I need to clean them. Do you have a first-aid kit?”
He stared at her hands a moment, slowly nodded. “All right. I’ll get it and some hot water.” He looked down. “What’s this? Your head—”
“He struck my head twice with his gun. There’s only a bump and a bit of blood. Nothing, really.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll get the blood out of your hair, see what we’ve got. And in the meantime you can talk to me, Ms.—Special Agent Cinelli.”
“First I have to call my boss.”
28
Chief Wilde handed Pippa his cell. She picked up a paper napkin, wrapped it around her bloody hand, and dialed.
“Chief Wilde?”
“No, Dillon, it’s me, Pippa. I had to borrow Chief Wilde’s cell.”
“You’re all right, Pippa?”
“Yes, a bit on the ragged side, but okay. I’m at Chief Wilde’s cottage. It looks like I’ve stirred up the hornet’s nest, though I have no idea how anyone could have found out who I am or why I’m here so fast.”
“Tell me what happened. Put it on speaker so the chief can hear everything, too.”
As she spoke, Chief Wilde listened and Gunther moved closer, snuggled his head on her leg, and looked up at her with unwavering eyes, his waving tail metronome steady on the wooden floor. “I checked the police station and saw the dispatcher working a crossword puzzle, bundled up to his ears. Since you weren’t there,” she added, looking up at Wilde, “I came here.” She gave no hint of the grinding fear she’d felt, of running until she thought she’d vomit, her side on fire.
Savich heard Wilde say, “Davie always feels cold, even in July, drives everyone nuts.”
Savich said, “You’re still with me, and that’s what’s important. I didn’t expect you’d be attacked. I’m on my way to you. Chief, be honest and tell me how bad her injuries are.”
Pippa started to reassure him, but Wilde shot her a look. “Her hands are bloody from cutting herself loose from some ropes, and her head’s bloody from being struck. I’ve just started examining her and cleaning her up. She doesn’t want to hear about any doctors. Yes, I already looked around outside and didn’t see anyone, and I’ve got Davie cruising the neighborhood. You should come directly to my house, 107 Upper Marlin Road.”
Pippa said, “I’m all right, Dillon, I promise. No dizziness, no nausea, only a headache. After the chief bandages me up, I imagine he’ll want to know what the FBI is doing here in St. Lumis. Do you want me to tell him? From the beginning?”