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“Fine. Check the eyes and ears one more time,” she told him as she walked out. “Let’s make sure they’re a go everywhere we need them.”
She did another walk-through of the house, checking on the position of her men, running checks on all coms. No mistakes, she thought, not this time.
She joined Peabody in what Charity called her sitting room just off the living area.
“The music’s nice,” Peabody commented.
“Yeah, so I’m told. He’ll tag her first, on her pocket ’link, so she’ll be ready for him, quick to open the door. And it’s a way of making sure she’s alone, that the house is empty. It’s the same pattern as Deena. Good neighborhood, most of the residents at work. She’s set out something to drink, to eat. That’s her habit, her way. He knows it.”
“It’s nearly time,” Peabody added. “And she just keeps playing the piano.”
“She’d make a good cop.” Eve glanced at the miniscreen that gave her a full view of the living area.
She had men posted inside and out, some of them—like herself and Peabody—literally steps away from Charity Mimoto.
No, Eve wouldn’t let him hurt her.
But she needed him inside. He wouldn’t hear the cage door slam down, she thought. Wouldn’t know he’d walked into the trap.
“We got him,” Jenkinson said in her ear. “Heading east on foot, two blocks. Navy shirt, brown pants, ball cap, black shades. He’s wearing a black backpack and carrying some flowers.”
Eve thought of the flowers he’d brought to Deena. “Roger that. Hold your position. All positions hold. Teams A and B, wait until he’s in the box, inside the box, then move to secondary position. Sound it off.”
She waited until she’d received an acknowledgment from each team leader. “Mrs. Mimoto?”
“Yes, dear?”
“He’s on his way. Just a couple blocks away. Are you okay?”
“I’m just fine. How are you?”
Eve shook her head at the woman’s unshakable aplomb. “We’re good. He’s bringing you flowers. I want you to do everything we rehearsed, but then you’re going to want to put those flowers in water. You excuse yourself, and go to the kitchen.”
“That’s when he’ll drug my lemonade, won’t he?”
“That’s likely. You st
ay in the kitchen. We’ve got you, Mrs. Mimoto.”
“I’m sure you do, but let’s get him.” Her pocket ’link beeped. “I bet we know who that is. Don’t worry. Hello?”
On screen, Eve watched Charity smile at the ’link. She angled it, just as she’d been instructed, so Eve could see his face on the ’link display from her screen.
There you are, you bastard, she thought. Keep coming. Just keep on coming.
“Hello, Denny. I was just thinking about you!”
“Hi, Mrs. M. I’m running a couple minutes late, just wanted you to know, and to make sure we’re still on, that your husband and all got off okay.”
“Of course we’re still on. I’ve got us a nice pitcher of lemonade and some muffins. My men are on their way to the wilds!” She laughed, easily. “It’ll be nice to have a little company before I settle into my solitude.”
“Aw, you didn’t have to go to all that trouble, Mrs. M. But if those are your muffins, I’m walking faster! I’ll be there in one minute.”
Yeah, come on, Eve thought as various teams relayed his progress through her earpiece. Come right on in, you son of a bitch.
“Well, I’ll pour that lemonade,” Charity said cheerfully. “See you in a minute.”
Charity shut down the ’link, set it on top of the piano. “How’d I do?”
