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Savich only shook his head. “Trust me. Eliza, do it.” She got a nod from Collette.
“I’m going to need a long rope.”
Marvin nodded and brought him one from the trunk of the Crown Vic.
Savich said, “Chief, please keep everyone here in place and see no one follows me, all right? Under no circumstances will you send the SWAT team or any of your people in after me. If Duvall makes himself visible, it’s important the SWAT team and your people don’t shoot him, unless there’s absolutely no choice. We need him to tell us who hired him to commit murder, and believe me, that’s not the end of it.” He smiled at Sherlock, whispered, “Here’s what I want you to do when I text you.”
They watched Dillon head toward the building, the coiled rope over his shoulder.
Collette said, “He saw something on the plans.” He shook his head. “Well, crap, a Fed hot dog. Take me, Lord, I’ve seen it all. Why the rope?”
Sherlock had an insane desire to laugh. Ruth said in a clear, certain voice, “Stick with this, Chief. Our boss is tougher than the old boots from your army days in the back of your closet. Don’t know what the rope is for.” But Ruth knew that rope was headed for the fire escape.
Between prayers, Sherlock decided she’d punch him out at the gym when this was over.
