New York to Dallas (In Death #33)(112)

Well aware cops’ ears were tuned in to her recitation, she kept her focus on Nikos and pressed her point. “This is data my consultant accessed, a great deal of it in the travel time between our hotel and this room. If you want it, he can get you the name of every employee in the law firm and whether they wear boxers or f**king briefs. He’s just that good. And he looked for said data because I deduced McQueen had the second location. I’m just that good, too. With what we’re handing you, you can tack on all sorts of fun federal charges, potentially bust a criminal organization—i.e., the law firm, if you’re not keeping up—that’s certainly bent or broken a number of international laws, and confiscate a whole shit pile of money. Before that, there’s the little matter of busting McQueen’s ass.”

She turned to Ricchio who struggled to control a smile. “With your permission, Lieutenant, I’d like to start the briefing, then coordinate with you on assignments.”

“Then let’s roll it out.”

Nikos steamed her, but Eve didn’t mind. It pumped her up.

After Mira finished the profile, Eve laid on operational strategy and procedure. Then she pulled Roarke and Mira aside.

“You’re going to be working with e-men from DPSD and the FBI.”

“Quite the party,” Roarke commented, with no real pleasure.

“Ricchio is going to give you a space to coordinate. He’s also getting the warrants for you to link up with building security and tamper with McQueen’s. You’re Team One.”

“So you said. Well, I’ll go find my space. See you on the line, Lieutenant.”

“I’d like you to go out on this,” Eve said to Mira. “We know McQueen was mobile when he contacted me. It’s unlikely he’s taken another girl, but it’s not impossible. If so, we may need hostage negotiation, and it takes time to pull one in. Besides, you know him.”

“Yes. I’d like to go.”

“We’ll keep you out of the hot spot, but linked in so you know what’s going on.”

“Just tell me where you want me.”

Moving on, Eve thought as she climbed into the van with her team, fit on her earpiece. Step by step.

Link with building security, establish eyes and ears in and out. Establish target is on-site. If so, locate and disable his vehicle. All teams move into secondary hold positions. Disrupt apartment security, disable elevator. Move into corridor, block stairwell, lock down building. Trap him like a rat.

Break in the door, go in hot. Take him down.

If target wasn’t on-site, wait until he was and proceed.

Bree shifted over to her. “I wanted to thank you for requesting me as part of your team.”

“Maybe I just wanted to keep an eye on you so you don’t screw up.”

Bree offered a tight smile. “I won’t. My parents are with Melly, at our place. I didn’t update them. Just in case.”

“That’s best.”

“I want to be able to tell them we got him.”

“Then let’s make it happen.”

“I know Nikos got in your face, and Ricchio’s, about Price. Things get around.”

Cop shops, Eve thought. Some aspects had no geography. “Yeah, they do.”

“I know you stood up for him.”

“He didn’t screw up. It was bad luck, that’s all. Nikos knows that, too. She’s just pissed and frustrated.”

“Yeah, but still. It’s appreciated.”

“You can buy me a drink when this is done.”

“You got it.”

Here we go, she thought as the van pulled over. “Team Two in position,” she said into her mic. “Sound it off.”

She listened as team leaders reported, gestured to the e-man on her team. “Bring it up. Let’s have a look.”

She studied the building, all shimmering gold and glass in a wide curve. Railed balconies spread into longer, deeper terraces on the upper levels.

And McQueen’s, the top level, east corner. “Zoom it in on target.”

She edged forward. Unless he had a parachute or a personal jet lift, he couldn’t escape by way of the terrace. With the elevator and stairs blocked, he wouldn’t have access to the roof.

The only way out would be through a wall of cops. He wouldn’t make it.

“Do a sweep, ground level,” she ordered.

She spotted the softclothed cops in position or moving into. The couple having coffee at the sidewalk café nestled beside the building, a man sitting on a wall above a bunch of flowers working a PPC. Still another window-shopping.

She counted off the rest.

She’d given strict orders not to approach or pursue should McQueen be spotted outside. The last thing she wanted was another chase, and any opportunity for him to slip the net.

“We’re in,” Roarke said in her ear.

“Copy that. Show me.”

The monitor switched again, showing her the lobby area—glossy, elegant—droid at a long, low table to check in visitors, deliveries, cleaning crews. Lots of flowers in angled glass vases along one wall.

While he took her through maintenance areas, security stations, utility rooms, Team Four’s leader sounded in her ear.

“Sensors read empty, Lieutenant.”

She thought, Crap. “We hold. Team Five, move on the garage. Let’s see if he’s on the road or on foot. If you locate the vehicle, disable.”