A hint of a smile, the first lightness Nikki had seen in him since his arrival
on-scene, creased the corners of his mouth. “Guess we’re all pros here, then.”
“And given the very big clock that’s counting down, I need to put my energy where
it can do its best: working the street. Do I have time to button up my loose ends
here?”
Callan slid the cuff off his aviator-style watch as he led her back to his Suburban.
“I’m jumping on this now, but if you think you can make better use of time in the
field, do it. I’ve got people en route from the Pentagon and CDC, and they’ll be
joining the meeting in-progress, also.”
Rook heard that and cleared his throat. Nikki said, “He can come, right?”
“I’m her wall. She bounces things off me.” He raised his hand in oath. “And it’
s all off the record.”
The agent scrutinized him. “Yes, Mr. Rook can join us, if that means you’ll
actually show up, Detective Heat.”
“Oh, we will,” said Rook.
“Parting orders?” said Agent Callan as he got in his vehicle. “Not a word about
this. Not just press, Rook.” He addressed them both. “Not to anyone. No mentions
to sweethearts, family, friends, anybody. In this era of social media, we don’t
want word to spread and start a panic.”
“Right,” said Rook. “Who needs a viral threat to go, well, viral?”
“On second thought, Heat, leave him in the car.” He slammed the door and roared
off to Varick Street with the hidden emergency lights strobing in the grill of his
SUV.
“You look just like on TV,” said Alan Lew, manager of the Surety Rent-a-Car
location. “Nothing like a police officer. You’re beautiful like a model. Or Bond
girl.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lew. And thank you for calling in your tip. It was brave and
extremely helpful.”
“The picture on that Web site, FirstPress? Didn’t do you justice.”
“Oh, you saw the article,” said Rook with a sly wink to Nikki.
“Yeah, it was OK. Good story. But the writing… not exactly Shakespeare, you know?
”
Rook’s smile vanished. “I think the detective has some questions for you, sir.”
“We’re going to keep the rental agreement she filled out, if that’s all right.”
“Absolutely.”
“This photocopy you made is obviously of a fake ID and an alias.”
“I pretended the copy machine was slow so I could stall her until you got here.”
“Very resourceful. Can you tell me what she was doing during that time?”
He came around the counter and stood where Salena Kaye had been. Heat made a little
sketch, out of habit, and marked the spot. Sometimes these interviews were
perfunctory; sometimes they yielded clues. In her experience, motivated people like
Lew made good witnesses, so Nikki paid close attention. “She was mostly right here
the whole time. Looking around a lot. Watching me in the back when I called you. It
took two tries to reach you, and I didn’t want her to get away.”
“May I?” asked Heat. Mr. Lew stepped aside, and she stood where he had and
rotated. “Looked around like this?”
He nodded eagerly. “Except she was doing this.” He repeated her move, but mimed
holding a cell phone to his ear.
“She was on her phone. Did you hear anything she said? A name?”
The manager said, “She didn’t say anything, she was just holding it.”
She turned to Rook. “Go to the entrance where I came in, so I can see you coming.”
He trotted out to the sidewalk and walked in the garage driveway, as Nikki had. As
soon as Heat saw him, she ran to the glass door and retraced Salena Kaye’s route to
the man lift, timing herself. She walked back to the office, looking thoughtful.
A patrol officer came in. “Excuse me, Detective? Got an eyewit.”
Outside the deli on Cliff Street, a bicycle messenger said he saw Salena Kaye race
off in a silver minivan. “Did you get a plate?” asked Nikki.
The eyewitness shook his head. “It didn’t have any plates.”
“Was she driving?”