Дэвид Балдаччи - End Game

“They could have gone back when she was there. Or put eyes on the place so they’d know when she did come home. And yet there she still was when we went to her house.”

“Maybe we need to talk to her again.”

“Maybe we do.”

As they drove along Robie said slowly, “That was a good deduction you had about the gun based on what Bender said. You two seem to feed off each other well.”

“Yeah, there seems to be a lot of that going on around here,” Reel shot back.

Robie glanced away, whatever he was about to say forgotten in the wake of Reel’s not-so-subtle reply.

After a few moments of silence he said, “Patti told me that their father’s been gone I guess for a while. But she didn’t say what happened to him.”

Reel looked at him. “He died in a car accident twelve years ago. Drunk driver killed him. Derrick told me at the party at his mom’s house.”

“That must have been tough.”

“Life is tough, Robie. But you just have to keep slogging through.”

Later, they were approaching the house when Robie slowed and then stopped.

“What?” said Reel, scanning ahead.

“No Land Cruiser.”

“She’s probably at work. It’s not quite five o’clock.”

“The front door is open.”

Reel slipped her gun from its holster. “You take the front, I’ll hit the back.”

Robie parked the car and they climbed out. Reel immediately darted to her right, went around the detached garage, and flitted to the back of the property.

In his mind’s eye, Robie, who knew her so well, could visualize every tactical movement his partner would make on her way to the house.

Robie shifted from cover point to cover point until he reached the front door. Standing to the side, he called out, “Ms. Drango? Agents Robie and Reel. We need to ask you some more questions.”

There was no answer, not that Robie was expecting one.

He used his foot to nudge the door fully open. “Ms. Drango, are you in there? If so, please call out and reveal yourself.”

No calling out and no revealing.

Again, he wasn’t surprised. He was just wondering where they would find the body.

And maybe her killer.

He entered the house and immediately moved to his left and took up cover behind a ragged couch. He peered over the top of the furniture in time to see Reel’s face peeking out from the doorway into the kitchen.

“Clear here,” said Reel.

“Bedroom,” replied Robie.

The door was nudged open and it took all of ten seconds to search the room.

“Clothes gone,” said Reel, examining the empty closet as Robie pulled open the empty bureau drawers. “She’s run for it. Question is, because she was scared or because she was in on it?”

“We can have the Agency try to track her down,” suggested Robie. He got on his phone and relayed the woman’s personal information, description, and what vehicle she might be driving.

“Long shot,” said Reel, peering around until her gaze was riveted on something on the bureau.

She picked up the pack of cards. “Drango said the night she was expecting to meet Lamarre she was doing some casino work at a birthday party in Denver.”

“That’s right. Some rich a-hole, she said.”

“Roark Lambert lives in Denver. And I guess he qualifies as rich. And he’s as capable of being an a-hole as the next person. Maybe she worked the party at his house.” She paused. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s worth checking out,” replied Robie. “But how do we do that?”

“She must work for some company that does stuff like that. We’ll need to get the name somehow. Maybe Malloy or Bender would know. Small town where everybody knows everybody else’s business.”

“So maybe we can find out whether Lambert had a birthday party in Denver recently.”

“Well, we can certainly find out when his birthday is.”

Robie pulled out his phone and did a search. He read through some screens. “Okay, this is him and they have his bio.” He read down the screen. “And his birthday was... five months ago.”

“Shit, there goes that theory.”

Robie was looking at a pile of papers on the bureau next to where the pack of cards had been.

He started going through them.

After about a minute he held one up. “Colorado Casino Fun and Games. Located in Denver. Looks like a notice they sent out to her. It has the company’s phone number.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

Robie called the number and a person answered on the second ring. “I was trying to locate one of your employees, Beverly Drango,” he said.

The woman on the line said, “Beverly’s not an employee. She’s an independent contractor.”

“Oh, sorry. I just arrived here in Colorado and was looking her up. I know she worked a party in Denver about a week ago.”

“What’s this about?”

“I’m a friend of hers. We grew up together before I left the area. We were supposed to get together when I came back for a visit. But she didn’t show up. Have you heard from her?”

“No. But she’s supposed to work a job for us tomorrow night.”

“Well, I’m at her house right now and it looks like she’s gone. I was worried about her and then found your number with some of her papers.”

“Do you think something happened to her?”

“I don’t know. I do know that she phoned me recently and said something weird had happened at the party she was working in Denver.”

“Weird how?” the woman said sharply.

“That’s just the thing. She wouldn’t tell me, but she said it had left a bad impression on her mind. Do you have any idea what she might be talking about?”

“No, she never reported anything like that to us.”

“Do you know where the party was held? She said it was a birthday party.”

The woman said, “It was at a hotel. I can’t provide the details of who it was for. That’s a client confidence. If you think something has happened to Beverly you should call the police. And I should find a replacement for her for tomorrow night.”

“The police will at least want to know which hotel,” Robie persisted. “It might be connected to whatever’s happened to her.”

“I told you that—”

“The name of the person might be confidential, but surely the venue can’t be. Not if it’s a public place like a hotel. I’m not asking for someone’s private address.”

He heard the woman sigh. “Okay, it was the Lancaster. It’s a new luxury hotel downtown.”

“The Lancaster Hotel. Thank you very much.”

“I hope Beverly is okay.”

“Me too.” Robie clicked off and looked at Reel.

She said, “I guess we’re going to Denver.”

The Lancaster was a ten-story hotel with a granite hide and a long green awning out front, guarded by a liveried doorman in a top hat. Robie and Reel parked in the underground garage and took an elevator to the main lobby.

It was large, and meticulously designed and decorated. The men and women traversing the lobby looked far more affluent than the average citizen.

“I wonder what rooms cost here?” asked Reel.

“More than we can afford on a government per diem, that’s for damn sure,” replied Robie.

They approached the front desk, where Robie showed his credentials.

The young woman looked like she’d been jolted by electricity. “How can I help you?” she said nervously.

“We understand there was a birthday party here about a week ago, complete with a casino theme?”

“I don’t have personal knowledge of that.”

Robie pointed at her computer. “Well, maybe that thing does.”

“Should I get a manager?”

“Not if you can hit the right keys on the computer. It’s a national security interest case,” he added.