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FISH ALMOST DROPPED his pen. When Lexi had said she thought there was corruption in the Burnside Police Department, she’d never mentioned fearing for her life.
Or had that come after her call, and she hadn’t bothered to update him? When he hadn’t heard from her, he’d assumed the Falcon was no longer a threat.
“Thank you, Ms. Becker.” Dalton’s voice brought Fish back to the briefing. “Do you have a safe place to stay tonight? If not, Blackthorne maintains several options.”
“I have it covered,” she said.
“We’ll be in touch,” Dalton said.
“Thank you.” Lexi’s smile was grim. She gathered her papers and left.
Fish wanted to go with her, but one didn’t leave a meeting with the boss before being dismissed. Manny and Adam made no move to get up, so Fish waited.
“Impressions, gentlemen?” Dalton said. “Mr. Frisch, you’ve worked with her. You know her. What was she like on the job?”
“Level-headed. Good cop. I trusted her with my back. Not impulsive.” He pointed to the file folders. “She did her homework.”
Dalton nodded. “I admit, she has an impressive amount of evidence, although it’s circumstantial. I can think of other ways to explain her findings.”
“You don’t think she went off the deep end when her husband was killed?” Adam threw an apologetic glance Fish’s way. “It’s understandable. Trauma can do that.”
“No,” Fish said. “She was shaken, yes, but she didn’t flip out. If that were the case, she’d have taken matters into her own hands years ago. Gone after her husband’s killer without knowing anything about a connection to this Falcon.”
“I bought what she said.” Manny shoved his chair away from the table, twisted, and snagged a fruit Danish from the platter. “She’s probably done her homework on Blackthorne, too. If she’s a good cop, it’s not surprising she knows what goes on outside the public view.”
Manny narrowed his eyes at Fish, who raised his palms.
“Hey, don’t look at me, man. I never said a word about the covert side to her. I told her I’m riding a desk downstairs in a cube farm, keeping the computers online.”
“You don’t think she questioned that choice of a job change?” Adam said. “From cop to tech support?”
“I was always good with computers,” he said. “She knew I’d burned out on being a cop, and I think she accepted it.”
Dalton stood. “Thank you, gentlemen. You’re dismissed. We’ll talk soon.”
Fish grabbed his folder and refrained from rushing after Lexi. Questions for Dalton raced through his mind, but not nearly as many as he had for Lexi. Adam tucked his paperwork under his arm and sauntered toward the door. Fish had no recollection of eating his muffin and fruit, but his plate was empty, so he must have. He carried it and his half-finished coffee to the credenza and set them on the tray.
“Need me for anything, sir?” Fish asked Dalton.
“No, you’re clear. Don’t go too far.”
“Understood.” Keeping his stride casual, Fish headed toward the elevator. No sign of Lexi. Guess she hadn’t waited for him. Or was she hanging around the lobby?
A ding announced the elevator car’s arrival. The doors grumbled open. Fish stepped inside and pressed the L button. Before the doors slid closed, Adam’s voice shouted to hold the car. Fish stuck a hand out, stopping the doors, and Adam entered.
Adam smoothed his hair. “Thanks. You ever wonder if the sensor mechanism will fail and your hand will be stuck as the elevator goes on its way?”
“I hadn’t, but thanks for adding that picture to my what can go wrong list.”
“No problem. So, Ms. Becker was your partner. Hot babe.” Adam’s attempt to keep his tone casual failed big time.
“She was my partner. Period. And married while we worked together.”
“You think she’s dating again?” Adam asked.
Fish stared at the floor numbers, willing them to move faster. “No idea. Ask her yourself.”
“Kidding,” Adam said. “While she’s a client, she’s off limits. Still, she is hot. And can’t be hurting for money if she’s paying Blackthorne’s fees.”
Fish had to agree that Lexi could light fires in any man, especially one whose job often resulted in long bouts of celibacy. He gave a cursory head bob. Let Adam interpret it as he pleased.
“Back to business,” Adam said. “Can’t see how the boss can spin going after a drug dealer behind the backs of cops.”
“That’s why he’s the boss.”
The doors opened onto the lobby. No Lexi. Fish had mixed feelings that she wasn’t hanging around. He’d hoped to have her fill in a lot of the missing pieces, but three would be a crowd. And after Adam’s remarks, an uncomfortable crowd.
Fish strode toward the door, waving his file folder. “See you tomorrow. I’m going home, do my prep. If what Lexi—Ms. Becker—said is true, it’s possible the Falcon has tentacles in San Francisco.”
“Falcons and tentacles?” Adam grinned. “Derek—the Professor, who’s before your time—would call you out for mixing those images.”
Fish couldn’t help but grin back. “Okay, then, talons, not tentacles. Would that pass?”
Adam’s grin turned into a laugh. “Probably so. One more thing. Do you think it’s a convenient coincidence—assuming Ms. Becker’s intel is right—that the Falcon had her husband killed, and now she’s working in the city where the Falcon’s company is based? Coincidences send up red flags for me.”
Adam shoved the lobby doors open and ambled away.
Fish pulled out his cell phone and punched in Lexi’s number.
***
LEXI WANDERED AROUND the block, away from the building that housed the Blackthorne offices, and stood under the awning of a boutique coffee shop. She knew better than to ignore the feeling she was being watched. She bundled her hair into a knit beret and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. April felt more like February. Wind chill, or premonition chill? Or was Mother Nature playing an April Fool’s joke?
She checked the time. According to the Uber driver, her ride should be here within minutes.
Dalton had asked if she had a safe place to stay. Until he’d brought it up, she hadn’t given a thought that the Marriott was anything but secure. She’d booked her plane ticket online, last minute. She’d taken a cab to the hotel from the airport, checked in, dropped her bag in her room, called another cab, and gone straight to her meeting with Blackthorne. Her phone was a new burner, purchased yesterday at a high-traffic discount store. She’d turned off the location apps. Dalton was the only one she’d given the number.
The premonition wouldn’t go away. Had the Falcon found her? Sent someone to watch her? Or worse?
Lexi ducked inside the coffee shop, cancelled her ride. Ordered an espresso and found a table where she had a view of the street. Sipping the hot brew—not to say the pods Blackthorne offered were bad, but they weren’t espresso—she took stock of her impressions of the meeting.
Dalton, with his touch of a Texas drawl, was charming, but came across as a man who knew what needed to be done and how to make it happen. Manny was strictly no-nonsense. All business. Focused. Listened, took notes. She almost heard the wheels grinding as he processed what she’d said. Then there was Adam with his head of silver hair. Prematurely so, she thought, as he seemed to be in his early thirties. His glances her way telegraphed a hint of interest—of the personal kind—but she had no doubt he was an experienced operative. Like Manny, he took extensive notes.
And Marv. Her heart thumped as she remembered how he’d greeted her with a hug, assessed her, looked into her eyes with his deep brown ones as if he still knew every thought that passed through her brain.
The crinkles around his eyes gave him a well-seasoned look. Otherwise, he seemed to be the same Marv Frisch she’d worked side by side with. Almost. There was a calmness surrounding him. Less cop stress, she imagined. He’d put on some muscle, too. Hadn’t started losing his hair, and it wasn’t turning gray the way Adam’s had.
The door chimes jingled, and she automatically checked to see who was coming in. A pair of women, smiling and laughing, pulled off gloves and headed for the counter. They were engrossed in each other’s company and had gone straight to place their orders. She wrote them off as harmless.
The next jingle sent her heart thumping again. Marv. He paused inside the door, gazed around, checking the patrons. A grin spread across his face when he spotted her, and he came straight to her table.
She couldn’t help her own smile from breaking through.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
He pulled out a chair and sat, pointing to her with outstretched index fingers. “Leopard. Spots. Not changing. I saw your face when you tried Blackthorne’s coffee. Figured you’d be looking for your favorite espresso.”
“It wasn’t bad coffee,” she said. She didn’t need to have anything remotely negative get back to Dalton.
“It wasn’t your preferred brew. Why didn’t you answer my call?”
“Sorry.” She held up her phone. “Burner. Got it yesterday. I planned to give you the number.”
“How about now?” He handed her his phone, set to Add a Contact. She input her number and handed it back.
Fish’s eyes showed concern. “You really think the Falcon is after you.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I made the whole thing up, flew to San Francisco, had a meeting with the most expensive security company in the country just so I could see you. Why were you at that meeting, anyway? I didn’t see any computers, so no need for tech support. Did Dalton want you there as an interpreter of sorts? Because you know me? Can read me? Or is there something about your job you haven’t bothered mentioning?”
“Can we go someplace else?” Fish asked. “We both have questions, and this isn’t the best place to chat.”
“I have a room at the Marriott. Do you have a car?”
He rested his hand on hers. It was warm despite the chill outside, and his touch warmed her as much as her espresso. “Yes, but you’re not going there. You’re staying with me.”
Her brows shot upward. “What? Why? The Marriott’s a perfectly reputable establishment.”
“If you’re being followed, whoever’s watching could know you’re at the hotel. Better to use the room as a decoy. Don’t check out. If you need your things, give me your key and I’ll go get them.”
She hesitated, tried to run everything through her head. Exhaling a sigh, she abandoned her coffee. If there was anyone on this planet she’d trust with her life, it was Marv Frisch. “Lead on, partner.”
Within fifteen minutes, Fish parked his car, an older, silver Honda CRV, in the self parking area behind the hotel. “Wait in the car.” He held out his hand. “Room number? Key?”
She gave him both. “You’re sure it’s not safe for me to go up?”
“I’m not sure of anything. If you were watched when you arrived, anyone seeing you coming out with your suitcase will know you’re leaving. We want them to think you’re still here.”
He popped the hatch, went around the backside of the car. She twisted, but the seats hid whatever he was doing. He came back with a cross between a backpack and a small duffel. “Nobody’s going to look twice at another traveler bringing luggage to his room.”
“You always travel with a suitcase?” she asked.
“Go bag, and yes.”
“I thought you were sneaky when you were a cop.” She eyed Fish’s bag for size. “I hope it’s empty, because otherwise, my things won’t fit.”
“It is. I dumped my stuff in back. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t let anyone take it.” His grin eased her fears.
“I’ll guard it with my life, but I feel like a sitting duck. I don’t have a weapon,” she said.
“There’s a Glock in the console compartment, so you should be fine for the next few minutes.” He left his keys on the driver’s seat. “Back in a flash.”
Lexi watched him stride away. Not too fast, not too slow. A man who knew where he was going. Another visitor heading for his room.
She checked around her. If the Falcon had sent someone after her, and they’d found her, she’d never see them. She lifted the console cover, removed the Glock. Checked to make sure it was loaded and there was a round in the chamber. Feeling the weight of it in her hand brought as much comfort as Fish’s warm hand had in the coffee shop.
Come get me. I dare you. I’m ready to end this once and for all.