Deadly Heat

“The lady whose picture you showed on TV. I’m manager at Surety Rent-a-Car

on Fulton. She’s at the counter now.”


Heat checked over her shoulder and gunned the car out into traffic. “You sure it’s

her?”

“No. But it sure looks like her.”

“What’s she doing?”

“Asking to rent a truck.”




In spite of the gymnastics required to access on-and off-ramps, the FDR won the toss

for fastest route from Kips Bay to Lower Manhattan. Heat figured whatever time she

lost in backtracking to get on and off the highway, she more than made up for by

circumventing the one-ways and surface snarls.

She pushed it, racing there Code Three, to the delight of her ride-along journalist.

When they passed the South Street Seaport to turn up Fulton, Heat killed the siren

so—if the woman really was Salena Kaye—they wouldn’t tip her off to their

arrival. While Nikki concentrated on her wheel work, she handed Rook the phone to

speed-dial Bart Callan at Homeland Security, who put out the call to his agents to

meet and intercept.

Rook spotted the Surety Rent-a-Car sign ahead on the right, adjacent to an

underground parking garage. “I’m serious,” said Heat, “stay with the car.” With

that she notched it in park and hopped out right in the middle of the street,

leaving the engine running and the gumball flashing as she jogged two doors up the

sidewalk and into the garage entrance with her hand on her hip.

An Asian man in a long-sleeved shirt and a tie pushed open the glass door to the

rental office as Heat approached. “Detective, that way. She saw you.” He pointed

urgently into an alcove of putty-colored cinder block in the corner of the garage,

where a motorized overhead wheel spun, feeding a bright yellow upright conveyor belt

down a three-foot hole in the concrete floor. Heat paused.

A man lift.

She had seen these things before; man lifts were in use all over the city at

construction sites and parking garages. She’d never been on one and had never hoped

to be. Not since she was a uniform and had to guard the remains of the parking

attendant who fell off one. What she really remembered was the poor guy’s elongated

blood smear circulating on the continuous-loop belt until somebody turned it off.

Nikki checked the street, hoping to see some DHS backup. Then she addressed the man

lift. The next toe-step fed by. She grabbed the guard handle, and got on.

Falling didn’t worry her as much as the vulnerability. Disappearing down a hole in

the floor was one thing. Riding feet first through a hole in the ceiling to the

level below with your back exposed to an open garage made you a sitting—or hanging

—duck. So Heat flouted OSHA safety rules and one-handed the grip, turned out from

the belt instead of facing it, and held her Sig in the free hand. Heat hopped off on

Level 2, found cover behind a metal trash can, and scanned the line of parked

rentals under the humming fluorescents.

Out on Fulton, horns blasted. Rook accepted car horns as just the brass section of

the New York soundtrack, but when he turned and saw the long line jammed by Heat’s

hasty parking job, he got out, waved to the queue as he came around the trunk, and

got in the open driver’s side door. “Technically, I am still in the car.” He put

the transmission in drive and eased the Crown Victoria to the side, still double-

parked, but leaving sufficient room for others to pass.

Before Heat made a move, she looked up. The last time she’d found herself in a

parking structure with Salena Kaye, she’d dropped on Nikki from above. Know your

enemy, she thought, then crept forward, easing the soles of her shoes on the

concrete, both to hear better and not to be heard as she ducked down to see under

the cars.

A sound.

One tiny piece of grit, cracking under a shoe.