to get the passenger lists into Denver from San Francisco on Sunday, just in case Pantage was right and someone other than Jackie Lake sent the text.
Pantage.
Pantage.
Pantage.
Drift couldn't get her out of his brain. He kept pulling up a visual of her tied spread-eagle on the bed last night while the storm beat on the windows.
Her body was so damned perfect.
Her lust was so absolute.
Her passion was so free.
Her breath was so alive.
Best of all was that she was still there when Drift woke up this morning.
She was the one.
He knew it the first night they met but knew it even better now.
It was wrong to have sex with her last night. He knew that. But how do you stop a freight train when it's running through your blood? How do you not do something when all you can think about is doing it?
Sydney showed up at seven wearing a sleepy, pre-caffeine face. "There wasn't much in any of the victim's files about their social lives," she said. "It was interesting though that the file pictures for each and every one of them showed liquor or wine in the cupboards. They were drinkers. If they drank at home they probably drank at bars too. My guess is that's where this guy does his hunting, at bars or clubs."
Drift dumped what was left in his cup in the snake plant over by the window and then refilled.
"That makes sense," he said. "Sit back with a beer and look for that perfect lickable face." He took a sip. "So now the question is, what bars did Jackie Lake go to? That's one of the things I want you to figure out today."
Sydney tilted her head.
"Did you say likable or lickable?"
"Lickable."
She rolled her eyes.
"You're getting worse."
"It's not easy," he said. "I have to work at it. I've been thinking about Pantage's memory problems. Maybe they're not from that fire hydrant encounter at all. Maybe they're from that first encounter with me."
Sydney smiled.
"You've been known to have that effect on people."
"That I have." He took a sip of coffee, wrinkled his brow and said, "We need to find our friend with the long hair. It's making my teeth hurt knowing there's someone out there who can potentially wrap this whole thing up."
Sydney frowned.
"It's going to bust a hundred again today. I need to be in air conditioning."
Drift looked out the window. Across the street were old houses converted into bail bond joints painted in cartoon colors.
"You know what, you deserve air-conditioning," he said. "Go to the law firm. Keep an eye on Pantage today. I'm sure they'll let you set up in a conference room or something. If she goes out to lunch, go with her. Keep reviewing the other files. Call the detectives in charge. Get your brain wrapped around all the details."
"Are you serious?"
He nodded.
"I am," he said. "Most of all be accessible. Be sure everyone knows you're there. Maybe one of the attorneys will wander in and whisper something in your ear."
21
Day Two
July 19
Tuesday Morning
Yardley woke Tuesday morning by the ringing of her phone. She opened her eyes a found a golden patina of sunlight awash on the walls. The clock said 10:32.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A voice said, “That was a big mistake. A very big mistake.”
The voice belonged to Sanders Cave.
She sat up.
“What was?”
The line went dead.
She called her boss and said, “I just got a call from Cave. He said, That was a big mistake, then hung up. He sounded insane.”
Silence.
Then, “Meet me at the bookstore at 11:30.”
“Okay.”
Thirty minutes later Yardley was out the door, showered and dressed. She swung into Starbucks long enough to get a carryout, then sipped it from her left hand and smoked with her right as she negotiated the downtown buzz over to Wazee. When she got to the bookstore the door was locked and the lights were out.
That was wrong.
Deven was supposed to open at ten.
It was 11:22.
Yardley opened the door, stepped inside and saw something she didn’t expect. The reception desk lamp was on
Pantage.
Pantage.
Pantage.
Drift couldn't get her out of his brain. He kept pulling up a visual of her tied spread-eagle on the bed last night while the storm beat on the windows.
Her body was so damned perfect.
Her lust was so absolute.
Her passion was so free.
Her breath was so alive.
Best of all was that she was still there when Drift woke up this morning.
She was the one.
He knew it the first night they met but knew it even better now.
It was wrong to have sex with her last night. He knew that. But how do you stop a freight train when it's running through your blood? How do you not do something when all you can think about is doing it?
Sydney showed up at seven wearing a sleepy, pre-caffeine face. "There wasn't much in any of the victim's files about their social lives," she said. "It was interesting though that the file pictures for each and every one of them showed liquor or wine in the cupboards. They were drinkers. If they drank at home they probably drank at bars too. My guess is that's where this guy does his hunting, at bars or clubs."
Drift dumped what was left in his cup in the snake plant over by the window and then refilled.
"That makes sense," he said. "Sit back with a beer and look for that perfect lickable face." He took a sip. "So now the question is, what bars did Jackie Lake go to? That's one of the things I want you to figure out today."
Sydney tilted her head.
"Did you say likable or lickable?"
"Lickable."
She rolled her eyes.
"You're getting worse."
"It's not easy," he said. "I have to work at it. I've been thinking about Pantage's memory problems. Maybe they're not from that fire hydrant encounter at all. Maybe they're from that first encounter with me."
Sydney smiled.
"You've been known to have that effect on people."
"That I have." He took a sip of coffee, wrinkled his brow and said, "We need to find our friend with the long hair. It's making my teeth hurt knowing there's someone out there who can potentially wrap this whole thing up."
Sydney frowned.
"It's going to bust a hundred again today. I need to be in air conditioning."
Drift looked out the window. Across the street were old houses converted into bail bond joints painted in cartoon colors.
"You know what, you deserve air-conditioning," he said. "Go to the law firm. Keep an eye on Pantage today. I'm sure they'll let you set up in a conference room or something. If she goes out to lunch, go with her. Keep reviewing the other files. Call the detectives in charge. Get your brain wrapped around all the details."
"Are you serious?"
He nodded.
"I am," he said. "Most of all be accessible. Be sure everyone knows you're there. Maybe one of the attorneys will wander in and whisper something in your ear."
21
Day Two
July 19
Tuesday Morning
Yardley woke Tuesday morning by the ringing of her phone. She opened her eyes a found a golden patina of sunlight awash on the walls. The clock said 10:32.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A voice said, “That was a big mistake. A very big mistake.”
The voice belonged to Sanders Cave.
She sat up.
“What was?”
The line went dead.
She called her boss and said, “I just got a call from Cave. He said, That was a big mistake, then hung up. He sounded insane.”
Silence.
Then, “Meet me at the bookstore at 11:30.”
“Okay.”
Thirty minutes later Yardley was out the door, showered and dressed. She swung into Starbucks long enough to get a carryout, then sipped it from her left hand and smoked with her right as she negotiated the downtown buzz over to Wazee. When she got to the bookstore the door was locked and the lights were out.
That was wrong.
Deven was supposed to open at ten.
It was 11:22.
Yardley opened the door, stepped inside and saw something she didn’t expect. The reception desk lamp was on
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