“What do you mean?”
“A certain young man just called me. Said he got away from someone. I assume it was you.”
Landry cursed silently. “He got the jump on me.”
“Did he at least give up the keyword first?”
“No.”
“Dammit,” Dysart said.
“Did he say where he was?”
“A convenience store on D Street, a few blocks from that deserted truck repair place I told you about.”
That got Landry moving. He opened the outside door and ran into the parking lot with the phone still held to his ear.
“He can’t be far then,” he said as he yanked open his car door. “I should be able to catch up to him if he’s still on foot.”
He cranked the starter and shifted into reverse.
“It’s better than that,” Dysart said. “He’s waiting at the store for me to pick him up.”
Landry blinked and stepped on the brakes.
“You’re picking him up?” he asked.
“No, you idiot. You are. By the time I get there I expect you to have scooped him up and be long gone. I’ll wait around a while and then go home.”
Landry allowed himself a grin, then winced slightly as he stretched his split lip.
“I’m on it,” he said, and ended the call.
Dysart would get his keyword all right. As for what to do with Rob — well, there was going to be a change of plans in that department. Rob had seen Landry’s real appearance. He could identify Landry in a mug shot or lineup. Or in court. The remainder of the fee from Dysart didn’t matter anymore. Rob had to disappear for good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
When Rose was ready to leave, mother and daughter came together for one more hug in the foyer of Lesley’s apartment.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Rose said.
Lesley rubbed her eyes, which had finally stopped leaking. “Sure, Mom. I know you have to get home.”
“I could take a vacation day tomorrow if you need me to stay.”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
Lesley began doubting these words almost as soon as her mother was gone. She contemplated the total mess her life had become. For the rest of her days she would probably be known as the cyberterrorist’s girlfriend.
Ex-girlfriend, she reminded herself.
All because of Rob’s childish stunt. Lesley felt the frustration well up inside her again, like a geyser that threatened to explode in her brain. She headed for her bedroom, intent on finishing her packing and escaping to Stan and Sheila’s place.
The buzzer rang. Someone was in the lobby.
“Leave me alone,” she shouted. Her words echoed futilely in the stillness of the apartment. She stomped out to the hallway, jabbed at the intercom button and said, “What?”
“It’s Tim. Can I come up?”
Lesley let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. At least it wasn’t a reporter.
“Sure, come on up.”
He arrived at her door holding a box covered in wrapping paper.
“I heard you were having a rotten day,” he said.
Lesley’s nose wrinkled in puzzlement as she closed the door behind him. “Who told you that?”
“I was talking to Rob. He said you broke up.”
“Yeah, well … it’s been a heck of a week.”
Tim hesitated, then held up the box. “Do you want to open this now?”
He looked like such an innocent, standing there offering up the brightly wrapped box. Lesley sighed and the tension inside her loosened a bit.
“Thanks,” she said, reaching out to take it. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She ripped off the wrapping paper. The present turned out to be a box of gourmet chocolates.
“I figured any day can only get better when you add chocolate to it,” Tim said.
“They look great. I’m not very good company, but if you’re willing to risk it, I could make some coffee to go with them.”
“Sure.”
Tim sat at the table while Lesley busied herself with the coffeemaker. Her hands trembled as she ripped open a packet of French Roast and emptied it into the filter. More than a few grains ended up on the counter. She crossed over to the sink and filled the pot. As she turned back, the coffee pot slipped from Lesley’s hand and smashed on the kitchen floor. The black plastic handle and spout lay at Lesley’s feet while glass shards were strewn everywhere in the puddle of water that covered most of the floor. She recoiled with a start against the kitchen counter.
“Oh God,” she said, then dropped to one knee and started picking up pieces of glass as quickly as she could. She felt a sharp pain in her right thumb and saw blood appear on the dampness on her skin. She dropped the pieces of glass, clenched her eyes shut and lowered her head onto her hands, which were now balled into fists.
Then Tim was there. Holding her by the upper arms, he helped her stand up and turned her toward the sink.
“Let me look at that,” he said as he pried open her right hand and held it under running water. Tim patted the thumb dry with a paper towel and examined it. Then he wrapped the thumb in a fresh paper towel and wrapped her other hand around it.
“Are you all right?” he said with a concerned look on his face.
She started to nod, then thought better of it and shook her head. Tim reached out with one hand and pulled her head to his shoulder. She slumped against him gratefully.
“Hey,” he said, “it’ll be all right.”
Lesley couldn’t imagine how anything was going to be all right. She only knew she was glad to have someone holding her. Someone who made no demands of her, who wasn’t going to criticize her.
She felt Tim’s finger push a wisp of hair from her damp cheek. Then he placed his cheek on her temple and murmured into her ear: “Everything will be okay.”
Tim’s lips brushed against her forehead, then her cheek, but she barely noticed. She wasn’t alone and for now that was enough. Lesley melted into the warmth of him, her eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around her. Then his lips were on hers.
She pressed back, hard.
Rob hung back in the shadows between a two-and-a-half-story saltbox house and a cream-colored duplex across the street from the convenience store. Waiting in the store had seemed like a fine option when he talked to Dysart, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back inside. For one thing, even with the wrought iron bars across the front, the plate glass windows made the interior too visible from the street. Also, Rob remembered how the clerk had looked at him. The guy was just as likely to call the police if Rob went in and hung around for a while.
Crouching behind a small bush in the yard across the street felt safer. It seemed unlikely that anyone in the houses would see him. Most of the windows facing in his direction were dark and the others were covered with curtains.
If only he could stop shaking. The steady drizzle of rain soaked his hair and dripped down on his face and neck. He kept looking in all directions, even into the back yard behind him, unable to shake the feeling that the blond man would show up at any instant. So when the Buick rolled slowly to a stop on the opposite side of the street, Rob wasn’t sure if his imagination was playing out his fears.
He ducked down behind the bush, breathing fast in short gasps. Peeking around the side of the bush, he saw the blond man get out, go in the store, emerge again almost at once and stand beside his car looking around.
Rob pulled back out of sight. How could the guy know to look at the store? It didn’t make any sense. But then it did. The guy would surely be checking everywhere within a few blocks of the garage. And just as surely the clerk would have told him that Rob had been in the store.
He risked another look — and felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. The blond guy was crossing the street, heading directly toward Rob.