"And Kiernan passed the job along to Troy Rasheed," Mercer said.
"Troy, aka Wilson Rasheed. Kiernan asked a cop he was friendly with to do a name check. Came up no record, so no reason to poke around much more," Mike said.
"When Kiernan told Rasheed to get rid of her-drive her home- he gave him the keys to his van. Next night, he says Rasheed told him Amber asked Rasheed to come back, that she was ready to pack up her things and go on home to Idaho," Mercer went on.
"That's what we know so far. Kiernan gave him the keys the next night, too. Saturday night. Anything to get her out of town, out of his father's life."
"And that's the night Rasheed abducted Elise Huff," I said. "You think Kiernan Dylan had anything to do with that?"
"So far, he's denying it. Wasn't even there when she showed up. But she walked into the hands of a killer," Mike said. "She was on her way to find Kiernan, and she came right up against Troy Rasheed. He'd had his first success the night before with Amber Bristol. He needed to feed his habit again."
"And Connie Wade?" I asked.
"We'll have to see if Rasheed is talking when he comes out of surgery."
"My money's with Nelly Kallin. Manipulation, not a blitz attack," Mercer said. "He crossed paths with her somewhere the day she disappeared. Talked her into that white van. Offered her a ride back to school."
Don't get into that car, I thought to myself. Don't ever get into that car.
"You think they have room service here at headquarters?" Mike said to Mercer. "I'm famished."
Mercer took the compress off, smiled, and reapplied it to his forehead. "Unlikely, Mr. Chapman. Just fancier vending machines than the squad has."
"I know, Coop's going to tell me she isn't hungry."
"How would Troy Rasheed even know that dungeon was there? In Governor's House," I said.
" 'Cause they used to give tours of the place when he was a kid. The men who lived there knew all that history. It wasn't a ghost island then," Mike said.
There were footsteps coming through the outer office. Keith Scully and Guido Lentini were back from City Hall.
"You feeling a little better, Alexandra?" Scully said, resting a hand on Mercer's shoulder.
"Getting there."
"Mercer?"
"One hundred percent."
Mike got out of the commissioner's chair. "Guido, don't you think a bit of medicinal Scotch is in order? I didn't want to open any of the cabinets here without a search warrant, but you could give me a hint."
Scully was seated at his desk, ready to get back to work. "Then get me a surgical update on Rasheed, will you, Guido?"
"You got orders for me, too?" Mike asked. He was much too wired to slow down.
"The mayor's going to push me too far," Scully said. "He wants me to let him know when Rasheed is ready to leave the hospital."
"What's the problem with that?" Mike asked.
"He doesn't get the point. He wants to do a perp walk. Always looking for the photo op."
I glanced at Mike and smiled. When he lost his temper and locked up Kiernan Dylan at Ruffles, over my objection, the amateur photograph had captured Troy Rasheed's image. That accidental perp walk undoubtedly saved some women's lives.
"Tell him to check with Coop before he does. You know how I hate to cross her.
FIFTY-NINE
Why aren't you answering your phone, Alex?" Joan Stafford asked. "Why isn't your machine picking up messages? It was Friday afternoon and I was alone in my apartment. "I'm being selective, for a change. I turned it off. That's why I'm calling to let you know that I'm okay. Joan had been checking on me every couple of hours after the news of our showdown with Troy Rasheed was made public.
"Just 'okay'?"
"Better than that, Joannie. I promise you I'm better. I was a good soldier all week. Played by all the rules. I've been debriefed and redebriefed. Every inch of me was examined by the doctors. My scratches and bruises were measured and photographed. I came home from the medical appointments the other night dressed in a hospital gown with Scully's trenchcoat covering me, so that my clothes could go to the lab and be cut up and analyzed for body fluids and trace evidence. The commissioner even insisted the department shrink try to have a go at me for a couple of hours."
"Sounds like everyone except the forensic pathologists had a piece of you, and thankfully they weren't given the chance. So did you tell the shrink anything Nina or I don't know, darling?"
"I have no secrets from you, Joan."
"Then come spend the weekend with Jim and me. We're driving out to the beach. You can rest there and I'll wait on you hand and foot."
"I'm happiest in my own cocoon right now, about to get into a steaming hot bath, with scented bubbles up to my nose."
"Alex, it's ninety-five degrees outside. Haven't you had enough heat?"
"I've got the air-conditioning going full blast, and I'm going to try to soak all the aches out of me." I felt safe inside my home, after all the turmoil of recent days. I didn't want to leave for any reason.
"You'll starve to death if you're alone all weekend."
"I think takeout was invented for me, Joan."
She paused. "You need this time by yourself, don't you?"
"I wasn't able to sleep for a couple of nights," I said. "Nightmares, flashbacks-I didn't even want to close my eyes. About four this morning, I gave in to it. I almost feel human again today. I didn't wake up until eleven. I still haven't gotten dressed. It feels wonderfully decadent."
"Did you dream, Alex?"
With my left hand I unbuttoned the old shirt I was wearing. "A very pleasant dream, actually, for the first time in several weeks."
"In English or French?"
"Nothing that needed translation, Joan. A delightful foreign intrigue, but my lousy accent never got in the way of any action."
"Then turn your phone back on. I've been running interference for you all day. You're driving your friends crazy with worry. And Luc can't get through. He called me to ask if you received the package he overnighted to you from his home."
"I wasn't expecting any deliveries today. I asked Vinny not to call up."
"Luc instructed the valet to leave it right in front of your door. Check while I'm on the line with you."
I walked through the foyer and unlocked the dead bolt. I peeked out to make sure no one was in the hallway to see me, tousled and barely clothed, and swept up the newspapers and the light cardboard carton on top of them.
"Yes, Joan. There's something here." I left the papers in the living room-there was no news I wanted to read about-and carried the box with me.
"Good. Take your bath. I'm so happy you're beginning to relax. Then open the gift later. And call Luc, will you?"
"I haven't forgotten all my manners, madame. I'll speak to you tonight, before I go to sleep."
The bathtub was full. I closed the door and slipped out of my shirt.
"And Mike," Joan said.
"What about him?"
"He's pretty anxious to talk to you, too. Like right now."
"Somehow, being naked in a bubble bath doesn't seem like the most appropriate way for me to carry on an investigation, not even with my favorite detective. We had dinner last night with Mercer and Vickee," I said. "I'm entirely up to speed on everything I need to know."
"Well, he sounds pretty desperate going through me just to get to you."
I dipped my toe in the water but it was too hot to step in. "Mike's riding high and deserves to be. He flipped Clarita Munoz yesterday. You know, the girl who was trying to get in to see me the day Kerry Hastings and I got rammed in the cab."
"What did he do?" Joan asked.
"Mike helped with her interrogation. Got her to admit that it was her boyfriend-well, her ex-boyfriend now-Ernesto Abreu, who took the shots at me at Rodman's Neck a week ago. Part of Pablo Posano's posse."