She only said, “What do we gather from this shot?”
Raley looked at notes he had already made. “I make him about forty-five, give or take. I’ll go with five-eleven to six feet, and two hundred, maybe two-ten considering those guns. Some kind of tattoo peeking out the neck of the shirt. Nose broken years ago, and all around a pretty hard look to him.”
“I’m betting he’s done time,” Feller said. “I know a yard face when I see one.”
“Wonder if that’s where he’s been for ten years,” added Detective Raley.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Heat cautioned, saying it as much for herself to hear as the other two. “Write up your physical description to accompany the APB. Make a close-up of the tatt, and get it to the ink and scar database at RTCC. Even though it’s a partial, they’ve worked wonders finding matches with less. And, yes, let’s do make sure we get this still frame checked against prison records when we circulate it. Which should be immediately, or sooner.”
“Already created the JPEG,” said Raley. “Anything else?”
“Yes. You truly are King of All Security Media.”
An herbal scent greeted Heat when she opened the door to Rook’s apartment. The entry and kitchen were dark, and she caught the ambient dance of candlelight against the walls and the brushed metal appliances. The flickers came from the great room on the other side of the counter, along with dreamy New Age music. Nikki quietly slipped her keys onto the hook, hoping he wouldn’t be disappointed when she asked for a rain check on the romantic evening. After the wrenching day she’d just experienced, pizza, CNN, bath, and bed held all the allure she needed. Hell, she might even skip the food and TV.
“I’m in here,” came his voice, sounding a little throaty and disconnected, as if he’d gotten a head start on the Sancerre. Nikki stepped into the kitchen and peered across the counter to discover Rook in the dusky light, prone on a massage table. He had a towel across his ass, and a strikingly gorgeous woman in nurse’s scrubs kneaded one of his hamstrings, her long fingers just a little too close to that perfectly rounded cheek. Rook made introductions without lifting his head from the foam donut. “Nikki, this is Salena. Salena, Nikki.”
Salena looked up briefly at her, only long enough to show perfect teeth through her smile. She whispered a hello then resumed her interest in the spot where the upper thigh met the hem of his towel. “Mmm,” said Rook.
Salena said, “This is very tight.”
“Mm-hm,” he answered.
“Excuse me,” said Nikki. She left them and found her way up the dark hallway of his loft to the bedroom and closed the door.
When he came to her afterward in his robe, he found Nikki cross-legged on the bed, working her laptop. “You didn’t have to hide in here.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to stand out there while you were having your ‘me time’ with your masseuse.”
“Actually, licensed physical therapist. The agency sent Salena over to replace Gitmo Joe. How cool is that?”
She closed the lid of her MacBook. “He still sick?”
“No, he quit. So it’s Nurse Salena for the rest of my rehab. It’s only a few more sessions, but I can live with that.” He did a few twists and bends. “I’m feeling better already.”
“He just quit?”
“I think he knew I never liked him. Sadist. Dude probably didn’t like it that I talked back and offered too much resistance.”
“That wasn’t a problem with Salena. Not from what I saw.”
“Are you jealous? Seriously? That was a therapeutic session from a licensed professional.”
She laughed. “Complete with tea tree oil and Enya. Jeez, Rook, I felt like I walked into a porn video.”
“There is no Enya in porn video.”
The door buzzer sounded. “I’ll get that,” she said. “I ordered us a pizza.”