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27
Pippa hugged the shadows as she passed a half dozen houses and finally reached Upper Marlin Road. The houses were set a good distance apart from one another, thick stands of trees dividing them. She had a stitch in her side, but she kept running under the shadows of naked-branched trees. She was breathing hard when she saw a small white cottage. There was a light on in the front window and a nondescript compact car in the driveway. He had to be at home. She hoped he was alone, but if he wasn’t, well, she’d think of something. She held her side as she walked up the flagstone path to the small front porch.
She didn’t have her FBI creds or her Glock, couldn’t prove who she was. She knew he’d take her in, but how he’d react when she told him what had happened was another question. She looked around again, didn’t see any sign of Black Hoodie or anyone else.
Pippa took a deep breath and knocked. She heard a loud bark and scrabbling paws on hardwood racing to the door. Then Chief Wilde’s voice, “Calm yourself, Gunther.”
Pippa drew a deep breath. What to say? Hello, Chief. Happy Monday evening. Have I got a bit of a story for you. And, oh yes, I think they’re looking for me.
Wilde opened the door and did a double take. “You’re Pippa, right? Cinelli? What’s happened to you? There’s blood on your face. Well, blood a lot of places.”
She managed a smile. “I know I look like I’ve been mugged, but I’m basically okay. There is a problem, though. The man who did this—he’s wearing a black hoodie—is probably looking for me. Could I come in, and can we lock all the doors and windows? And maybe I can borrow your cell phone? Black Hoodie took mine.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, slammed the door. “What? My cell phone?”
“Yes, Black Hoodie took mine. He also took both my Glocks and my creds. I escaped and must have just missed him coming back to the building where he tied me up. Like I said, he’s probably out there, looking for me.”
He started to say something, then shook his head. “No, Gunther, stay down.” Pippa was hit with another wave of dizziness and grabbed the closest thing—his arm.
“Whoa, you need a doctor.”
“No, no, give me a second. I’ll be fine. I’m a bit concussed is all.” The dizziness passed, and Pippa straightened. She saw she’d gotten blood on his sleeve. “Please lock the front door, Chief. He must be out there, maybe close, watching the house. I’m sorry I got blood on you.”
“Don’t worry about the blood. Stay put.” He drew his Beretta and went outside, closing the door behind him. Pippa stood there, tense, afraid Black Hoodie would shoot him. Minutes rolled by. Finally, he was back. He locked the front door, slid the dead bolt home. “No one’s around that I could see. We’re all secure. Come with me to the kitchen, and I’ll see if I can fix you up while you tell me what happened to you.”
“I really do hate to lay this on you, Chief, but I was ordered to come to see you if I got myself into trouble. And I did.”
He came to a standstill. “Ordered? Who are you?”
“I’m Special Agent Pippa Cinelli, FBI. Ah, I really need to borrow your cell phone right now. My boss has got to be worried I didn’t check in. He isn’t going to like this at all. Could you please shut off the living room light? Just in case he’s snuck up on the house?”
She was a fricking FBI agent? Why would the FBI send an agent to St. Lumis? What was going on? Why hadn’t she identified herself Saturday night at the Halloween party? Par for the course, the federal yahoos hadn’t bothered to alert him, to give him any warning at all. He’d find out why soon enough, but first things first.
A moment later, they stood in the dark and he was speaking to the single deputy she’d seen in the police station. “Yes, I want you to patrol around my house, make a circuit of the neighborhood, call me immediately if you see anyone, specifically a man in a black hoodie.” He punched off, said, “All right, let’s go to the kitchen.”
Wilde took her arm, led her down a short, dark hallway, and flipped a light switch. He walked her into a roomy, old-fashioned kitchen with dark cabinets and scarred granite surfaces that were, to her surprise, covered with gleaming modern appliances. Blue wallpaper with huge hydrangea blooms covered the walls. The room was cozy, welcoming, and warm. He sat her down at an old oak table topped with a mason jar filled with daisies, a small basket of napkins, and old-fashioned glass salt and pepper shakers. Why was she paying attention to any of that? To distract from her fear? She rose and walked to the back door, locked it. She pulled the curtains over the three kitchen windows. “Chief Wilde, would you please turn on the hall light and turn this one off? He could still see us through the windows.”
Wilde said nothing, did as she asked. When he came back, she was again seated at his table. He said, “Could you identify this man looking for you? This Black Hoodie?”
“Unfortunately, no, only his profile, really, but I got the impression he was on the younger rather than middle-aged side.”
“All right. Stay seated. You’re safe here.”
Pippa started to pick up the salt shaker, realized her hand was bloody, and pulled it back. “My hands—I didn’t realize I’d cut them so badly.” She looked up at him, blinked. “You see, my hands were tied behind me, so I had to cut myself loose on a sharp hook.”
He said, “I should take you to our urgent care facility.”
“No, please, I’d rather not leave here. I don’t think the cuts are bad enough to need stitches. But the blade was filthy, and I need to clean them. Do you have a first-aid kit?”
He stared at her hands a moment, slowly nodded. “All right. I’ll get it and some hot water.” He looked down. “What’s this? Your head—”
“He struck my head twice with his gun. There’s only a bump and a bit of blood. Nothing, really.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll get the blood out of your hair, see what we’ve got. And in the meantime you can talk to me, Ms.—Special Agent Cinelli.”
“First I have to call my boss.”
