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Dino got out of bed and reached for a robe. “Shelley, I wish you luck, I really do, but you have to go now.”
“You want me to walk brazenly through your lobby and past the doorman?”
“You can take the elevator to the basement, turn right at the laundry room, and go out the service entrance.”
“Slink out, you mean, as if I’m ashamed of being with you?”
“That’s your call, Shelley, but you have to go.”
“But no one knows about us, Dino.”
“Stone Barrington knows,” Dino replied, regretting immediately having said so.
Shelley sat up in bed, exposing a magnificent pair of breasts. “You told Stone?”
Dino fumbled for a way out. “He saw you come into the building,” he said, “and he recognized you. I didn’t have to tell him.”
“Well now,” she said, looking thoughtful. “I’m going to have to see that he doesn’t drop any hints to law enforcement.”
“Shelley, don’t talk like that. Stone would never do that-he would want to protect me.”
“I suppose,” she said, getting out of bed and taking some underwear from her suitcase.
“I’ve got to get to the precinct, so I’m going to shave and shower,” Dino said, “and I’d appreciate it very much if you would be gone when I’m done. I wish you well, Shelley.”
“Yeah, sure,” Shelley said, turning her back and stepping into a pair of panties.
Dino went into his bathroom, showered and shaved, then he walked back into his bedroom, looking carefully around. Shelley’s suitcase was gone, and his bed was neatly made. He had to search the rest of the apartment before he could feel relieved.
Dino arrived at the precinct and went to his office. A pile of mail on his desk greeted him.
“Morning, Lieutenant,” a voice said, and he looked up to find his newest detective, an attractive brunette named Viv DeCarlo, standing in his doorway.
“Morning, DeCarlo,” he said brusquely. “What do you need?”
“The DNA came back in the Bronson murder,” she said. “It’s a match for the boyfriend. I need an APB.”
“Have you been to his house?” Dino asked. “It would save a lot of departmental bother if you could make the collar without the trouble of an APB.”
“No, sir, I haven’t,” she said. “I’ll need an arrest warrant and a SWAT team for that. Would that be less trouble than an APB?”
“It’s a toss-up,” Dino said, “but call the DA and get the warrant. Type up an authorization for the SWAT team, and I’ll sign it.” Dino opened the top piece of mail on his desk, a large brown envelope with an FBI return address. He shook it, and a wanted poster featuring a becoming photograph of Shelley Bach spilled onto his desktop.
“Hey,” DeCarlo said, “that’s the chick from D.C. who offed all those people, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Dino said. “Is there anything else preventing you from getting back to work?”
“No, no, Lieutenant. Thanks for your help.”
Dino sat down and looked at the poster, then he called Stone.
“You’re up early today,” Stone said.
“I’m up early every day, unlike you.”
“I don’t have to get in early to make the morning shift think I work for a living,” Stone replied.
“Well, there is that,” Dino said. “Listen, pal, I’ve got some good news and some bad news.”
