The minute he saw her he knew it wasn’t going to work that way. She immediately bolted, not back into the bathroom, but toward the bedroom door.
“Police,” they both yelled.
“Stop,” Neuman blurted and then lunged at her before she got to the door, knocking her sideways onto the bed where she fell into the tangle of sheets and started screaming. Neuman was on top of her instantly, wrestling her into the sheets as he tried to get his hand over her mouth, get the sheets into her mouth, the two of them rolling over and over as she flailed her arms and legs and squealed, tossing Neuman first one way and then the other from the sheer strength of her panic. Graver jumped on the bed too and together they managed to pin her between them, Neuman beneath her on his back with his arms locked around her, pinning her upper arms to her sides, his fists gripping each other under her heavy breasts, her wet hair in his face.
She was facing Graver who was on top of her, pressing his knee into her sternum as he held a part of the sheet over her mouth with one hand and his shield in front of her face with the other. She stared at the shield wall-eyed. All three of them were heaving for breath.
“Goddamn it,” Graver hissed. “We’re police.”
Pause.
Her eyes went back and forth between him and the shield.
“You got that?” he asked.
Pause.
“Police,” he repeated.
She nodded frantically.
“I’m going to get off you,” he said. “Let you get some clothes on.” He shook his head. “Don’t fight this, okay?”
She nodded, her wet hair flapping in Neuman’s face.
He eased his hand off her mouth. “Say ‘okay,’ “he said.
“Okay,” she panted.
Graver eased off her, pulling the sheet up over her as best as he could as he did so.
“He’s going to let go of you,” Graver told her. “Don’t try to get away again. Okay?”
“Okay,” she blubbered, snatching at the sheet from all over the bed as Neuman gladly scrambled out from under her and rolled off the foot of the bed.
The front of Neuman’s sport coat and trousers were dark with the water he had soaked off of her backside. He wiped his face which was dripping from the water from her hair. “Great,” he said, looking at his clothes as he slung the water off his hands.
Valerie Heath quickly got the sheets around her and sat up against the headboard of the bed, gaping at them.
“Do you understand that we’re police?” Graver repeated, standing at the foot of the bed and holding his shield out in front of him.
“Yeah… yeah…” she stuttered. She looked at Neuman who was running his fingers through his rumbled hair.
“You remember me?” Neuman wheezed.
“Yeah…”
“Do you have any idea why we’re here?” Graver asked, putting his shield back into his pocket.
She shook her head.
“I believe you do,” Graver said. He stared at her. “Speak to me,” he said, “so I’ll know you’re understanding me.”
“I fuckin’ understand you,” she said, “you son of a bitch.” Her black hair was plastered to her forehead, and without her makeup her face was as featureless as a sheet of paper.
“Good,” Graver said. “Now listen to me. We’re going to take you in for questioning.” He would explain later that he wasn’t exactly taking her in. “You’ve got yourself in a hell of a mess, Ms. Heath.” He put his gun away, made a swipe at his own hair with his fingers and sat down at the foot of the bed.
“Listen,” he said, trying to sound calm and sane to her, trying not to sound like a policeman, “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t believe you fully understand what it is you’re involved in here.” He paused. “The people you’re working for have killed two police officers. Detectives.” He looked at her in the dim light of the lamp. All he could see was belligerence. “As of this moment, your life isn’t worth a dime either. I’ll explain why when we have more time. If we decided we didn’t want to talk to you after all, if we walked out of here right now and left you alone, you wouldn’t make it through the night Even if you got in that brand-new Corvette of yours and drove it like hell all night… you wouldn’t see the sunrise.” He held his eyes on her. “Believe me.”
He didn’t see anything in her face.
“We’re getting ready to close down the whole operation, Valerie,” he lied, “but we’re going to try to save as many lives as we can. We don’t want anybody else killed. We have reason to believe that they’re going to start killing some of you. They know they’re near the end of this, and they’re trying to cut their losses. Unless we have your help, the people you work for, the people at the top, are going to get away with it We don’t want something for nothing. We want to deal. We can save your life, sure. But if you agree to cooperate with us we’ll also do our best to keep you out of prison. After all, you’ve been used.” He paused. “There’s no need in you serving time for something you didn’t really understand. Especially if they all skip out on you.”
This time he saw something working in her eyes. As she calmed down she began to think, and Graver had the feeling that thinking was going to do her a lot of good. Maybe.
“Now listen,” he said, “we need to get out of here as soon as we can. We’ve got a boat out in the canal. Why don’t you get dressed. This is not a good place to be.”
“Let me see that shield again,” she said.
Graver took out his shield again and handed it to her. She took it and leaned over under the lamplight and looked at it very closely. She passed her fingers over the face of the shield. Then she handed it back to him. She looked at Neuman.
“I knew that goddamned insurance story was phony,” she said.
“I need a little more practice,” Neuman said.
“No shit.” She relaxed a little.
“Why don’t you get dressed,” Graver said, standing.
“Oh, yeah,” she said with exaggeration, looking at each of them.
“One of us is going to have to watch you,” Graver said. “You know we can’t turn our backs on you. Choose whichever you want.”
“Oh, give me a break, “she said, flinging aside the wet sheet as she crawled off the bed. “This jerk here has already had his hands all the hell over me. What am I gonna do, get modest all of a sudden?”
She walked naked to her dresser, opened the drawers, and started looking for panties and a bra. She didn’t hurry, glancing at them a couple of times, letting them get a good look at her two-toned body as she seemed unable to immediately find what it was she was wanting.
“Get several changes and put them in a bag,” Graver said, turning and walking out the bedroom door. He threw a look at Neuman who rolled his eyes and wiped his face one more time.
Chapter 46
By the time Valerie Heath had gotten dressed-for some reason she selected a wraparound skirt with an orange and brown pattern of African motifs and a sleeveless white blouse-and had put some clothes in a weekender bag, she and Neuman were on pretty good terms. The same elements in his personality that enabled him to work easily with the ever thorny Paula seemed also to appeal to Valerie Heath.
While Neuman was charming her, Graver had picked up a small flight bag from another bedroom and had searched the house, gathering a considerable cache of false IDs and some paperwork and documents that he didn’t take the time to read. He just swept everything into the bag.
Valerie was nervous at the idea of Neuman driving her Corvette into the city, but was finally convinced it was necessary. So as Neuman drove away from the front of her house, she and Graver stepped onto Ollie’s boat, a craft that did not much impress her.
Graver avoided the issue of handcuffs until they got to Ollie’s place, thinking any scene she might make there would attract less attention than on her own patio and dock. But he hadn’t needed to worry. She accepted them, along with a waist chain, with a little obligatory grousing and willingly got into the passenger side of the front seat.