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LEXI HAD ALWAYS BEEN good at considering worst case scenarios. Fish admitted being alert to her What ifs? had saved their skins a time or two.
He pointed to the camera focused on the entrance. The ambulance waited, the driver inside. “Special ambulance company, remember? An armed driver stays with the vehicle.”
Townsend, bagged containers in hand, walked outside with the medics.
“They’ll take the evidence to a local lab we use,” Dalton said.
“Can Blackthorne see everything we’re seeing?” Lexi asked.
Fish nodded. “They get the same feeds.”
He sensed the information wasn’t coming fast enough for her. “Any intel on the guard?” he asked, figuring that would be her primary concern.
“Anaphylactic shock,” Emi said. “According to the pizza company, Nelson Riggs ordered a large sausage, mushroom, and pepperoni pizza, a large root beer, and with his coupon, added the free cookies, which happened to be peanut butter. The guard has a severe peanut allergy, and he couldn’t get to his epi pen in time.”
“Aren’t the cookies being transported with the guard?” Fish asked. “Won’t that be a problem?”
“Once he told the medics about his allergy, they sealed them and put them up front,” Dalton said. “When putting our security measures in place, we didn’t give much thought to attacks via allergies.”
Lexi stiffened. “Are you saying it was an attack? Someone thought if they removed the guard, they’d have access to the building?”
“Not in this instance, but it’s something to be aware of,” Dalton said. “I’m afraid what we have here is an unfortunate series of events, with nothing malicious behind them. That being said, it was an excellent drill.”
“So, Riggs is cleared?” Fish asked.
“His background is clean and we’ve found no ties to Merlin,” Emi said.
“One of the security guards is going to talk to him,” Dalton said.
“We’re going to have to buy him another pizza,” Manny added.
“Meanwhile, you two are free to get back to whatever you were doing,” Dalton said. “We’ll call if anything changes. Let’s move our seventeen hundred sitrep to eighteen hundred.”
Get back to what they were doing? What did that mean? Dalton couldn’t think Fish was getting things on with Lexi, could he?
Chill. You’re reading your own thoughts into a casual remark.
Not that Fish would have minded a little diversion. No, for the duration of this assignment, Lexi was the principal. They had plenty to talk about, plenty to catch up on, but getting things on wasn’t one of them.
Don’t kid yourself. You’ve considered it.
“Yes, sir,” Fish said. “Eighteen hundred hours.”
The screen displayed the stylized B of the Blackthorne logo. Fish checked the other monitor with the building security feeds, but all seemed quiet.
“Can we go with the security officer when he interviews Nelson Riggs?” Lexi asked. “That’s still in the building.”
“Much as I’d like to get his answers firsthand, I don’t think Dalton would approve. I don’t like getting called into his office for his little talks. The kind where you leave with a new asshole.”
“Then what do we do?” She tugged her shirt away from her body. “I was about to take a shower when everything hit the fan.”
Fish wondered what Lexi had found in the wardrobe room, and whether she’d be wearing it after she showered. “Sounds like a plan.”
He walked her to her room, then continued on to his, put on his shoes. Once he heard water running, he went to the living room, where he perused the DVD collection. The Wrath of Khan? Whose perverted idea of a joke was that?
He chose another one and queued it up as a potential decoy should Lexi ask what he’d been doing. Next stop, the kitchen, to reheat his abandoned coffee.
While the microwave did its thing, Fish pulled out his cell phone and punched in Manny’s number.
When the man answered, Fish asked, “What’s going on with the team in Burnside?”
“They should be touching down in twenty,” Manny said. “Dapper Dan’s going to love this one. He gets to dress up as a rich businessman.”
Fish pictured Adam in an expensive suit. Custom-tailored, no doubt. “Perfect casting.”
Fish lowered his voice. “What’s your take on what happened here? I got the impression things were glossed over because Lexi was in the room.” He took his coffee to the couch.
“Emi says seventy percent confidence it was a fluke.”
Fish snorted. “Emi gave you a round number?”
“Sixty-nine point eight, but who gives a damn about the fractions? For the boss, it was high enough to include Ms. Becker, not high enough to share all the details.”
Fish glanced toward the hallway. No sign of Lexi. “What did I miss?”
“The peanut butter cookies were a mix-up. Riggs ordered chocolate chip. The delivery kid said he doesn’t check orders, just grabs them and runs. The person who packs things is new. Another place where it could have been an honest mistake.”
“There’s a chance it wasn’t.”
“Slim,” Manny said. “It means someone had to know about the desk guard’s allergy, know he’d be on duty, know someone was going to order a pizza, have someone deliberately mix up the cookies, and for what?”
“A test?” Fish suggested. “See how the system works?”
“It’s possible, but highly unlikely given the points I mentioned.”
“Did anyone run it by Emi?” Fish asked. “I’d love to know her odds for that one.”
“Team’s on the ground,” Manny said. “Gotta get to work.”
***
LEXI SHOWERED, WASHED her hair, allowed herself a moment to linger under the pounding spray.
Calmer, she toweled off and dried her hair. She went into the bedroom where she’d left the suitcase she’d filled with a temporary Blackthorne wardrobe. The clothes defined nondescript. The kind you wore to blend in. Or hang around a safe house.
Staring at the items she’d chosen, she grabbed a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck. She had her own underwear, and trying not to imagine Marv moving them from her carryon to his go bag, she grabbed a clean bra and panties. Should she combine her clothes? Or was the Blackthorne wardrobe restricted to safe house use?
Too much to think about. Marv should know.
Dressed, she washed the bra and panties she’d worn today in the bathroom sink and draped them over the retractable clothesline she’d noticed in the shower.
After a long, deep breath, she felt in control for the first time since she’d packed to leave Burnside this morning.
This morning? Not a week ago?
She gazed longingly at the bed. Thought about Marv.
No, no, no. Don’t think of beds at the same time as Marv.
She thought of Marv’s bare feet as she laced on her sneakers. Feet weren’t sexy. Or were they?
Your brain is trying to avoid thinking about the mess you’re in.
She opened the bedroom door and inhaled a whiff of coffee. Did this apartment have an espresso machine? That would be over the top for a safe house.
Lexi checked the kitchen. No espresso machine. A pod brewer. She found an Italian roast in the pod collection. The unit was still hot, so Marv must be feeding his caffeine habit.
She pulled a mug from the cabinet and started the brew process. While she waited, she heard voices from the living room. Bruce Willis?
Rounding the corner, she saw Marv had a movie playing. Die Hard.
She brought her coffee and joined him. “I thought this was a Christmas movie.”
“It’s about the explosions.”
“And taking down bad guys.” Lexi settled onto the couch, but at the far end. Maybe the coffee would clear her brain. Maybe Bruce Willis would take her mind off Marv.
Wasn’t happening.
“Tell me about working for Blackthorne,” she said. “Do they hire women?”
Where had that come from? Was she thinking about changing jobs? If so, why would she move out of the fire of her cop job into the inferno of Blackthorne?
Marv paused the movie. Set his coffee cup aside. Looked at her. Really looked at her. Took her coffee cup and placed it next to his. “What are you talking about?”
Damned if she knew.