“Hey, I can be as duplicitous as the best of them. Except with you, of
course. With you I am an open book, especially between the covers.” He wanted to be
playful. Heat wanted to be reassured.
“Then what did you two talk about?”
“Well, per her request, I gave her a quick primer on my Tyler Wynn project.”
“How much?” Heat chafed at this interference in her case. Callan called it:
Bigfoot.
“Enough to find out I may be chasing my tail. Like you, Yardley pointed out he used
numerous aliases, plus the fact that he might be doing his shopping through some
third party.”
“So that’s her contribution? To basically piss on your investigation?”
“No, actually, she was quite helpful. Nikki, she gave me this brilliant new
strategy to follow.” If Rook had a clue how much his exuberance chapped her, he
didn’t let on. “Yardley says more and more retailers are using RFID technology.”
“Educate me.”
“Radio frequency identification. You know how your E-ZPass lifts the gate at a
highway toll booth, or a security tag on a leather jacket sets off an alarm in a
department store? Those are transponders that emit radio signals. Well, technology
has now shrunk them down to chips smaller than a grain of rice, and manufacturers
and retailers are planting them in their products for inventory control and consumer
research. And how do they do that?” He paused to frame the significance. “They
electronically track the chips to see where their products are distributed
geographically.” He slapped her thigh to punctuate his excitement.
“You’re scaring me, Rook, going all geek on me.”
“I can’t help it. Don’t you see? Of course you see. If we find enough products on
the Tyler Wynn list that have RFID chips embedded in them, the little transponders
could lead us right to his door, no matter what name he used.”
Begrudgingly, reservedly, but, in the end, objectively, Heat admitted Yardley Bell’
s idea had merit. She told Rook she would assign more manpower and resources to the
task first thing in the morning.
“And can you call it a task force?”
“No.”
“I’ve always wanted to be on a task force.”
“You’ll have to save it for that video game you play in your boxers.”
He turned away, watching Bryant Park go by his window. “Why do you hurt me?”
Upstairs in Rook’s kitchen, he put some flame under a pot of water for angel hair
to go with his scampi while she poured the Sancerre. Without naming it, they had
taken to eating meals in more since the poisoning attempt. On high alert was not the
way either wanted to live, or admit to living. “How you holding up?” he asked.
“Not exactly brain-dead. But I’m working on it.”
He lifted his glass. “Here’s to the living brain-dead. Makes you almost a zombie.
” After they toasted, he said, “If you want to kick back and take a shower, I’ll
keep busy sweating some garlic and sautéing these shrimp.”
“You know what I’d really like to do?” she said.
“I do. You want to take another shot at The Thing.”
“Rook, we’re alone. We can call it the code.”
He put on a mock pout. “Oh, you mean the code. I was hoping when you said you
wanted another shot at The Thing…”
“You disgust me,” she said with a laugh.
As she walked to the back hall, he called out, “I hid a copy in my office. It’s in
the top filing cabinet drawer under ‘Nikki’s Top Secret Code.’ ” And then she
could hear him laugh.
Wide awake at 4 A.M., Heat eased out of bed, pulled on some gym shorts and a workout
top, and slipped out of the room. Minutes later, she walked barefoot across Rook’s
rooftop and sat on the wall to stare at the city that also didn’t sleep much.