Now You See Her Linda Howard(86)

Four uniformed cops poured into the apartment. Sweeney had a glimpse of avid expressions on the faces of her neighboring tenants as they milled in the hall outside her door, then Richard pulled her into the kitchen, removing both of them from the scene so the cops could do their work.

The next few hours were a tumult. Detective Ritenour arrived hard on the heels of the uniformed cops, beating the EMTs by a couple of minutes. He was dressed, but his shirt was wrinkled and his tie hung crookedly. Richard had called the detectives instead of 911. More uniformed cops arrived, and the emergency medical team, and Detective Aquino. Her apartment was full of people. Radios crackled.

More people arrived.

Richard kept her in the kitchen, seated with her back to the door so she couldn't see any of what went on behind her. Two of the medical team looked at the wound on his shoulder and applied an antibiotic salve and a bandage. He finished cleaning himself up at the sink, scrubbing away the blood with a wet paper towel, and refused any further medical treatment.

Aquino and Ritenour took their statements. They found the window in her studio where Kai had entered. There was no question about Richard firing in self-defense.

"I think we'll find he killed Mrs. Worth," said Aquino. "When he saw the painting Ms. Sweeney was doing, it must have been a real shock to him. Took him by surprise, otherwise he would have tried to do away with you then," he said, looking at Sweeney. "Then I guess he thought he could pin the whole thing on you by telling us about the painting."

"But how did he know you didn't arrest me?" she asked, bewildered.



Aquino shrugged. Ritenour answered. "He could have called the precinct, or maybe he was watching.

How doesn't matter. He obviously came here tonight intending to kill you, only you heard him raise the window, and you weren't alone."

Aquino said sourly to Richard, "It's illegal to own a handgun without a license in the city of New York."

Richard shrugged, not a flicker of discomfort from his wounded shoulder showing on his face. "I have a license," he said.

Aquino looked even more sour. "It figures. You did a damn good job. That was a clean hit to the heart.

You've had training, haven't you?"

"Military," Richard replied. "Army."

"Yeah?" Ritenour said. "What unit? I was in the army."

"Rangers."

Sweeney saw their expressions change, and they sat back in their chairs.

"The bastard didn't have a chance," Ritenour said softly.




Chapter 22


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"You're at the end of your rope," Richard said roughly, tilting her face up. She was paper white, as much from fatigue as stress and shock; her eyes were dull and circled by shadows so dark they looked like bruises. "Get some clothes; I'm taking you home with me."

Aquino got to his feet. "I'll take care of that. She don't want to go into the bedroom. Is there anything in particular you want?"

She shook her head. Normally she would never have allowed a stranger to paw through her clothes, but right now she didn't care. He was right; she didn't want to go into the bedroom. She might never go into it again. "There's a satchel on the top shelf in the closet. Just throw some things in it."

"You'll need to sign a statement," Ritenour said to Richard, "but that can wait a few hours. Get some sleep if you can." He paused. "The media will be all over this, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Richard rubbed his jaw. "Is there any way we can keep the painting out of the news?"

So Sweeney wouldn't be a tabloid sensation, he meant.

"Maybe. I don't see any need to mention it. The reporters will probably play up the lover angle, make it sound like some sort of lovers' quarrel."



Candra's parents had already been hurt enough by her death, but now the sensationalism would double, and her relationship with Kai would be analyzed and dissected in public. "I wonder why he killed her,"

Ritenour said, almost to himself. "We may never know."

"If he did," said Sweeney, speaking through a blur of exhaustion.

Both men gave her sharp looks, Richard's lingering longer than Ritenour's. "What makes you say that?" asked the detective. "If he didn't kill Mrs. Worth, then he had no reason to worry about the painting, and no reason other than that to try to kill you."



She shrugged. She didn't know why she had said it. She tried to imagine Kai's face in the painting, but that brick wall was still there, refusing to allow the image to form.

A few minutes later Aquino returned with the bag. "One of the policewomen packed it," he said, as if he wanted her to know he hadn't been handling her underwear. "I thought a woman would know better what another woman needed."

"Thank you," she said. She reached out to take it, but Richard's hand was there first. If the weight of the bag bothered his shoulder, he didn't show any sign of it.

"No sense in calling a taxi. One of the patrolmen can drop you off at your house."

Richard nodded and cupped Sweeney's elbow. "I'll call you later in the morning."

"Make it real late," Aquino replied, and yawned. "I'm going to try to get some sleep. My advice is take the phone off the hook and get as much sleep as you can."