Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(83)
We held our breaths as I clicked send. I passed my laptop to Vero and paced our room, unable to sit still through the silence that followed. I nibbled my thumbnail as I stood in front of the window, staring at the dark shadow of the fire tower, listening for a chime or a notification indicating the message had failed to reach its recipient, but the computer remained quiet.
I held Vero’s binoculars to my eyes, adjusting the focus. From our window, I could clearly make out all five sets of zigzagging metal stairs that led to the roof of the fire tower. A bright half-moon shone between the clouds, its light glimmering off the railings. It was the perfect location for a setup.
“What if nobody shows to pick up the money?” Vero asked.
“Then we can safely assume EasyClean is Joey.” Presumably, Joey was still in the hospital without access to a secure computer, and Nick had taken his phone and wallet from his pocket in the gym. As long as Joey was stuck in a hospital bed and Nick was here, Joey would have no way to know about the drop, and no way to get here. But if EasyClean was one of the others—Charlie, Wade, or even Samara—two hundred and fifty thousand in cash should be more than enough to draw them out.
We both jumped at a loud knock on the door. Vero slapped my laptop shut. She zipped the cash inside her suitcase and kicked the duffel back under the bed as I shoved the binoculars under my pillow. I smoothed down my hair and opened the door, expecting to find Nick on the other side of it. Samara smiled, her arms weighed down by two paper bags and the shoulders of her trench coat dotted with rain.
“Heard you two had an interesting night,” she said, pushing her way into the room and setting the bags on the dresser. “Roddy thought you might be hungry since you missed dinner.” She proceeded to unload one of the bags. “Looks like the kitchen staff prepared quite a feast. I’ve got two club sandwiches, some coleslaw, potato salad, and a couple of brownies for each of you.” She handed each of us a soda.
Vero wrinkled her nose at the can. “You couldn’t have brought anything stronger from the faculty lounge?”
Sam crumpled the empty bag and pitched it in the trash can. She turned to us with a smirk, untying her trench coat and opening it with a flourish. A pint of whisky was tucked in the inside pocket.
“Bless you and the white horse you rode in on,” Vero whispered. She reached for the bottle like it was the last one on earth. “I knew I loved this woman for a reason.”
Sam laughed, the long ties of her open coat swaying against her red leather pumps. “Considering the day you’ve had, I figured there wasn’t any harm in bending the rules, but do me a favor and don’t mention it to Nick. He’s in a pretty shitty mood. He practically took my head off when I tried to deliver a few sandwiches to his room just now.” She held up the second bag. “Said he wasn’t hungry.”
My smile faltered. “Nick’s in his room?”
“Apparently, he’s brooding, but you didn’t hear it from me.” She stole a brownie on her way to the door. At the last minute, she turned, her voice tentative when she asked, “You don’t by any chance know where I can find Georgia, do you? Silly to let Nick’s sandwiches go to waste.”
“She’s probably in her room,” I said absently. I should have been relieved that Sam was looking for my sister rather than sitting behind a computer, planning a raid on the fire tower, but my mind hung stubbornly on what she’d said about Nick. If he had already finished working for the night, why hadn’t he come to find me and take my statement?
“Georgia’s room is down the hall,” Vero supplied helpfully. “Room three nineteen. Take an extra brownie,” she suggested with a wink. “Georgia’s got a sweet tooth.”
I hardly noticed as Sam took an extra brownie and showed herself out.
“If your sister doesn’t marry that woman, I might.” Vero cracked open the whisky and took a long swig, her eyes watering as she passed me the bottle. When I didn’t take it, she studied me with a suspicious tip of her head. “Oh, no. What’s that look? I know that look.”
I checked the time on my phone. All night long, I’d assumed Nick was too busy to come. That he was tied up in meetings with his commander and writing reports. When he’d said good-bye in the gym, he’d said he would find me when he was done, but that had been almost five hours ago. So why hadn’t he brought our dinner himself? And why was he alone, brooding in his room?
I took the bottle of whisky from Vero and passed her the binoculars. “Keep an eye on the drop site. I’ll be back in an hour.”
CHAPTER 32
I told the officer standing watch outside our door that I needed to use the bathroom. When his back was turned, I darted down the stairwell at the end of the hall. Nick’s room was on the first floor. I’d seen the number printed on the back of his lanyard when he’d stood over me that morning in the maintenance closet, and I’d committed it to memory for reasons I hadn’t been ready to think about.
I checked to make sure the hallway was clear as I slipped out of the stairwell and searched for Nick’s room. I rapped on the door, starting when it opened almost immediately. His hand was braced against the doorframe, his eyes shut and his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was fighting a headache.
“I told you, Sam, I’m fine. Losing perps is just part of the job, and I really don’t feel like talking about—” Nick’s hand fell away. The collar of his dress shirt was loose, unbuttoned to his sternum, the rumpled fabric framed between the leather shoulder straps of his holster. He frowned down at me, the bright light of the hall casting harsh shadows under his eyes.