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“Excuse me, sir, but the lady said you’d pay me two hundred for the loan.”
“Two . . .” Resigned, Roarke pulled out his wallet. “Do you know who owns that truck there?”
“Sure, that’s Ben Clipper’s truck.”
“If Ben comes looking for it, tell him it’s on loan. There’s two in it for him as well.”
Eve gave a glance back, signaled the uniforms. She wondered how the hell she was supposed to slouch on a goddamn airboard. Knees loose, she ordered herself, and for God’s sake don’t run into anything.
She kept her head down, as much to keep her eye where she feared she might plant it on the sidewalk as to block her face from any cams.
She didn’t risk any flourishes, but hopped off at the building’s entrance, and shouldered the board at an angle to shield her face.
She palmed her master, bopping her head and shoulders as she’d observed teenaged boys did for no good reason.
Inside she reached a hand under the shirt for her weapon, glanced up the stairs.
Nothing and no one moved.
“Single elevator,” she muttered into her com, tossed the sunshades onto the single chair beside the elevator. “Both it and stairs right of entrance. Elevator’s coming up. Stand by.”
She kept her weapon low, moved to the far side of the car, back to the wall.
A woman and two kids got out, making enough noise to raise the dead.
Eve stepped forward. “Please stop where you are.”
“Oh! You startled me.” The woman’s surprised laugh cut off as she spotted Eve’s weapon. In a finger snap she had both kids shoved behind her.
“I’m the police,” Eve said quickly. She held up her free hand, then dug under the shirt for her badge. “Do you know the residents of apartment two-oh-eight?”
“I’m not sure. I—”
“Big guy, good shape, late thirties. A lot of charm. Just moved in a few days ago. He’d be with a woman now and then, and she’d be in a lot. Blond, mid-fifties, attractive, a little flashy.”
“You must mean Tony, Tony Maxwell. He’s the nicest man. Is he all right? I just saw him a little while ago when he was leaving.”
“When?” Damn it, Eve thought as she pulled off the borrowed shirt, tossed it on the chair. “Exactly when?”
“Ah, maybe a half-hour ago. I had to go pick up the kids, and I saw him in the garage on the way out, stowing his suitcase. He said he had to go away on business for a couple days. What’s this about?”
“Was he alone?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see him leave—actually drive away?”
“No, I left first, but he was getting
in his car.” She wrapped her wide-eyed kids to her sides. “I want to know what’s going on.”
“I want you to take your kids, go outside, turn left, and keep walking until you get to the uniformed officers down this block.”
“But—”
“Go now.” She heard the elevator start its rise. “Right now!”
She swung back, lifted her weapon as the woman grabbed both kids by the hands and fled. She lowered the weapon again as Roarke stepped out.
