Shadow Tag (The Ray Schiller Series - Book 2) by Marjorie Doering Page B

don’t know. A door slamming, a book dropping… I suppose it could’ve been. Hell, man, I’m no expert on gunfire. The next sound could have been a gunshot, too, for all I know.”
    “There was another?”
    “Yeah, later on.”
    “Holy shit.” Ray massaged his forehead. “Okay. When was this?”
    “I can’t say how much later it was; I fell asleep.”
    Waverly sneered. “You were too damn busy studying to do your job, but you took time out for a nap?”
    Gaines whipped his head in Waverly’s direction. “Not on purpose. I was up studying for three nights; I was beat.” He turned to Ray. “Hey, man, it was the one damn time I put myself ahead of that fucking job.”
    “Just give us the rest of the details,” Ray said. “I’ve already heard your excuses.”
    “Shit,” Gaines muttered. “Like I said, I fell asleep. I can’t say for how long. When I came to, I heard more footsteps in the hall.”
    “Geezus,” Ray said. “This doesn’t sound like an office building in the middle of the night; it sounds like a goddamn parade route.” He swept a hand over his face. “Never mind, go ahead.”
    Gaines chewed his lip. “Whoever it was came and went real fast. Then fifteen, maybe twenty minutes later, I heard more footsteps, but they sounded real weird.”
    “Weird how?”
    “They were slow and irregular.” He chewed on his lip a while longer. “Next I heard a muffled ‘pop’ and then, a minute later, the same weird walk back to the elevator. After that there was nothing. That was it.”
    “Thank God.” Waverly put his pen down and leaned back in his chair. “Let’s see if I’ve got this straight.” He checked his notes. “You arrive around eleven, do rounds and see Ed Costales in his office. About an hour later, you do rounds again and see Paul Davis there—alive—and notice Costales has taken off. So far, so good?”
    Gaines nodded.
    Waverly muttered something unintelligible under his breath and flipped the page. “Then, sometime between midnight and seven in the morning, three, possibly as many as four people come and go on your floor—one possible woman and two, possibly three men. Does that about sum it up?”
    “I guess.”
    Disgusted, Waverly slapped his notebook on the table. “And the whole damn time you were hearing voices, footsteps, doors slamming, books falling, whatever, you weren’t interested enough…weren’t curious enough to take a look—not even once?” Waverly uncrossed his arms and leaned toward Gaines. “My God, kid, come on. You didn’t even peek through a crack in the door? Not one damn time, even for a second?”
    Ray stepped behind Gaines. “Sounds like a crock to me. If I’d been in that room, you couldn’t have stopped me from checking it out.”
    “All right, I did look out a couple times, but I didn’t see anything worth mentioning.”
    Waverly leaned forward. “What’s going on—are you protecting somebody?”
    “Hell, no.”
    “What did you see—a friend maybe—and now your loyalty is holding you back?”
    Gaines mumbled a reply.
    “What?” Ray said. “Speak up.”
    “I said it was just Johnson. Both times. No big deal.”
    “Which times?” Ray demanded.
    “Just before I fell asleep, and later when I heard the strange gait coming back down the hall. That got to me. I got up and looked just as the elevator door closed behind him.”
    “Why didn’t you tell us that in the first place?”
    “Because Johnson’s got enough problems as it is. His drinking’s out of control. Between the time I fell asleep and when I saw him in that elevator, he got falling-down drunk. Must’ve. That’s the only thing that could explain his crazy gait. It sounded like he was having trouble walking in a straight line. I don’t think he’s ever let that happen at work before.”
    Waverly grumbled under his breath. “And you were going to keep your mouth shut while we wasted our time trying to find that out for ourselves.”
    “It was just