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“No, you don’t, Commander. You’ve been a cop too long. I appreciate the difficulty of your position, but Hayes is the prime suspect in two murders, in sabotage, in a conspiracy to implicate Roarke in those murders. He injured bystanders while fleeing and caused considerable property damage. He also fired his weapon at a police officer. He’s currently evading arrest.”
“There’s an explanation.”
“Yes, I believe there is. He’s picked up his father’s banner, Commander, and he’s carrying it where I don’t think you intended it to go. You told me yesterday no losses are acceptable. Did you mean it?”
“The pursuit of justice often…In the course of duty, we…” He looked helplessly at his wife. “Belle, I never meant—Reggie, Zita. Have I killed them?”
“No, no.” She went to him quickly, wrapped her arms around him. And he seemed to shrink into her. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your doing.”
“If you want justice for them, Commander, help me. Where would he go? What would he do next?”
“I don’t know. Do you think I haven’t agonized over it through the night?”
“He hasn’t slept,” Belle told her. “He won’t take his pain medication. He needs to rest.”
“I confided in him,” Skinner continued. “I shared my thoughts, my beliefs, my anger. I wanted him to carry on my mission. Not this way.” Skinner sank into a chair. “Not this way, but I beat the path. I can’t deny that. Your father killed for sport, for money, for the hell of it,” he said to Roarke. “He didn’t even know the names of the people he murdered. I look at you and see him. You grew out of him.”
“I did.” Roarke nodded. “And everything I’ve done since has been in spite of him. You can’t hate him as much as I can, Commander. No matter how hard you try, you’ll never reach my measure of it. But I can’t live on that hate. And I’m damned if I’ll die on it. Will you?”
“I’ve used it to keep me alive these past months.” Skinner looked down at his hands. “It’s ruined me. My son is a thorough man. He’ll have a back door. Someone inside who’ll help him gain access to the hotel. He’ll need it to finish what he started.”
“Assassinate Roarke?”
“No, Lieutenant. Payment would be dearer than that. It’s you he’ll aim for.” He lifted a hand to a face that had gone clammy. “To take away what his target cherishes most.”
When he hissed in pain, Eve stepped forward. “You need medical attention, Commander. You need to be in the hospital.”
“No hospitals. No health centers. Try to take him alive, Dallas. I want him to get the help he needs.”
“You have to go.” Belle stepped in. “He can’t take any more of this.”
“I’ll send Dr. Mira.” Even as Eve spoke, Skinner slumped in the chair.
“He’s unconscious.” Roarke instinctively loosened Skinner’s tie. “His breathing’s very shallow.”
“Don’t touch him! Let me—” Belle jerked back as her eyes met Roarke’s. She took a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry. Could you help me, please? Take him into his bedroom. If you’d call for Dr. Mira, Lieutenant Dallas, I’d be grateful.”
“His body’s wearing down,” Eve said once Skinner was settled in the bedroom with Mira in attendance. “Maybe it’s better all around if he goes before we take Hayes.”
“His body was already worn down,” Roarke corrected. “But he’s let go of his reason to live.”
“There’s nothing to do but leave him to Mira. The computer didn’t think Hayes would come back to the hotel. Skinner does. I’m going with Skinner. Hayes wants me, and he knows Skinner’s on borrowed time so he has to move fast.” She checked her wrist unit. “Looks like I’m going to give that damn seminar after all.”
“And make yourself a target?”
“With plenty of shield. We’ll coordinate your security people and Angelo’s and pluck him like a goose if he tries for a hit here.” She started out, pulling a borrowed communicator out of her pocket.
Then drew her weapon a
s she saw Hayes step out of the stairway door at the end of the corridor.
“Stop!” She pounded after him when he ducked back into the stairwell. “Get to security!” Eve shouted at Roarke. “Track him!”
Roarke shoved through the door ahead of her. The weapon in his hand was illegal. “No. You track him.”
Since cursing was a waste of time, she raced down the stairs with him. “Subject sighted,” she called through the communicator as they streaked down the stairs. “Heading down southeast stairwell, now between floors twenty-one and twenty. Moving fast. Consider subject armed and dangerous.”
She clicked the communicator off before she spoke to Roarke. “Don’t kill him. Don’t fire that thing unless there’s no choice.”
