She was a sitting duck out here. She passed a CVS and ducked inside.
As good a place as any to hide. Big and crowded with other people getting out of the rain.
She moved toward the side wall and wandered among the nail-care items hung on the Peg-Boards. She pretended to be shopping but all the while her eyes were fixed on the front doors. She migrated toward the rear, near the pharmacy counter where the first-aid items were stocked. She ducked behind a condom display as she saw Duncan walk past the front windows, under an umbrella no less. She hung there with her nose poking among the party-colored boxes. Any one watching would have thought she had a hot time planned for tonight.
When she thought she'd waited long enough, she stepped i. _ out into the aisle and made her way toward the front of the store.
Halfway there she saw Duncan on the sidewalk outside again. Only this time he didn't pass. This time he pushed through the door and came inside.
Gin dropped to a crouch. In case anyone was watching, she quickly untied and retied her shoelace. She glanced around. No one was paying her any attention. She half straightened and looked around. Her heart tripped over a beat when she saw Duncan heading her way, his head rotating back and forth like a radar dish as he roamed the aisles.
She ducked down and cowered near the Halloween candy displays, frantically casting about for a plan. She could run, get up and sprint for the doors and the street, but that would give her away. Duncan wasn't sure where she was right now, couldn't even know she was in the store. If she ran, he'd have her. And worse, fleeing at full speed might bring the store detectives after her. If they grabbed her and held her, all Duncan would have to do was walk by, let loose an ultrasonic pulse, and she'd join Senator Vincent in the psych ward.
She glanced up and noticed one of the convex antishoplifter mirrors overhead. In it she saw a dapper-looking man in a blue blazer with a folded umbrella coming down the aisle on the other side of the counter.
Duncan. No more than three feet away.
Head down, she ran in a crouch in the opposite direction and stopped at a break in the display counter. She checked the mirror again. Duncan was at the far end and turning into her aisle. She scurried around into the aisle he'd just left, moved along a dozen or so feet, and huddled, waiting, barely breathing as she pretended to compare the prices of the various widths and sizes of bandage gauze and adhesive tape.
She didn't dare peek at the mirror again. Not yet. If she'd been able to see Duncan in it, he'd could just as easily use it to see her.
Finally she reared up and cautiously peeked around a display of Ace bandages. It took her a moment before she spotted him. Near the front of the store now. Pushing through the door. Leaving.
But he wouldn't be leaving the area. He'd be wandering around, watching the Metro entrance, cruising the streets. He knew she was somewhere around here, and he wasn't going away. Trying to slip past him was too dangerous, especially in daylight. She needed a place to hide until it was dark.
Gin's fists knotted in frustration. She was so damn vulnerable with this . . . this thing in her leg. She wished she could be rid of it.
Then she could walk up to Duncan and thumb her nose at him. If only .
.
She looked at the tape and bandages in her hands.
And came to a decision.
Where the hell is she?
Duncan opened the umbrella and looked up and down K Street as the rain increased its intensity, falling in sheets. The weather matched his mood.
This wasn't going well at all.
He tried to look on the bright side, If nothing else, the downpour was driving people indoors. That would make anyone still wandering about outside even more conspicuous. Gin would be easier to spot if she made a break for it. Obviously she'd ducked into one of the stores on this side of the street. She hadn't had time to cross to the other side o reach the far end of the block before he'd arrived.
She was here. This side. And she had to come out sometime.
But what if her fellow from the FBI was on his way to meet her here now?
That could be trouble. But not insurmountable. All he had to do was sidle up within range, press a button on the transducer, and TPD would begin seeping into her bloodstream.
But that scenario was risky. Far better to find her before the cavalry arrived . . . if it was even coming.
Duncan sighed. He'd have to search these stores one by one. Most of them were small. It wouldn't take long.
He noticed a Burger King down the block. A perfect place to hide. She could sit in the back and sip a cola and no one would make her move.
He'd start there.
Gin clutched a white plastic bag filled with her purchases and checked the street and sidewalk outside as best she could from inside of the window. Duncan was nowhere to be seen. But that didn't mean he wasn't somewhere out there watching.
Her knees shook. Her hands nervously rolled and twisted the loops of the bag. She didn't want to go out there. She wanted to stay here where it was safe and dry, where Duncan had already searched and probably wouldn't search again. At least not for a while.
But she couldn't. Couldn't crawl into a hole and pull the earth over her. She'd made up her mind to do something about this, and dammit, that was it. She would not stay here and be a sitting duck any longer.
Across the street she could make out a bank, a copy shop, and a dingy marquee that read The Tremont. That little old hotel held one part of the key. The contents of the paper bag another. The rest was up to her.
She watched the traffic outside, waiting for a break . . .
Finally it came. Setting her teeth, she leaned against the door and burst from CVS into The downpour at a dead run, straight across the street and into the lobby of the Tremont.
Inside the revolving door she stopped and looked back on K Street. No sign of a blue-blazered man with an umbrella dashing across to intercept her. But that didn't mean he wouldn't be along soon.
As she hurried to the reservation desk she scanned the hded glory of the lobby. The brass needed polishing, the mirrors were smudged, and the carpet was showing its age. But there was still dignity here in the carved wood and dark green wallpaper. An old, independent dowager refusing to yield to the age of international hotel chains.
"I'd like a single please, " she told the beige-suited young black woman behind the counter. "Just for the night." The woman said, "Of course, " and placed a card on the counter. "Please fill this out. " Gin paused with the pen poised over the NAME line. She didn't want to put her own name, but how much cash did she have? Thirty bucks? Maybe forty? Nowhere near enough to cover a room in the heart of D. C. And if she was going to use cash instead of a credit card, the hotel would be looking for at least one night in advance.
Reluctantly, she wrote in "Gin Panzella" and handed over her Visa with the registration card.
"Any luggage? " "I'm having that sent over later." She was tempted to make up a place from which her bags would be arriving and a story as to why she didn't have them with her, but decided to clam up. This woman didn't care and too much talk might make her sound as if she was hiding something. She was inexperienced at the art but guessed that lies, like medical reports and research papers, worked best when one observed the KISS rule, Keep It Simple, Stupid.
Five minutes later she was in a narrow room on the top floor with one double bed and an alley view.
Perfect.
She put on the chain lock, dropped into the single chair by the writing table, and closed her eyes. So good to feel safe. Temporarily safe.
At least she didn't have to worry about running into Duncan here.
Gin looked at the phone and thought about calling Gerry, to tell him that she was going to be delayed. Maybe she should tell him why, because of his insistence on objective proof.