Iris Johansen - Dead Aim

She handed the phone back to Leopold. "He wants to put me in some safe house and let me twiddle my thumbs while he completes his investigation."

"So I understand. Personally, I don't care much for those by-the-book FBI agents, but he appears to be very thorough and he's got a team out there scouring the entire crash area."

"He said he hoped you could convince me to let him tuck me away. Does he have you in his pocket?"

Leopold shook his head. "We try to work together, but we run our own show. I admit he did call and suggest I try to influence you. The safe house isn't a bad idea."

"It's a very bad idea." She stood up. "And it probably originated with John Logan." She shook her head as she translated a flicker of expression on Leopold's face. "You too?"

"He talked to me. I didn't think you'd go along with it. I told him we had your security well in hand."

"So you're responsible for that blue unmarked Toyota that's been following me since I left the hotel this morning?"

He grinned. "Busted. But how do you know it's not some one more sinister than my humble self?"

"That's why I'm telling you about it. Is it a Toyota?"

He nodded as he picked up the phone and dialed a num ber. "What color and model car are we using for the surveillance on Alex Graham?" He listened. "And the license number?" He jotted the number down on his pad. "Thanks." He handed Alex the slip of paper. "This one is ours. If you suspect anyone else is following you, then get on the phone and call me right away."

"Don't worry." She tucked the note in her purse. "I'll yell if I even get a glimmer I'm in danger. I believe in letting the police earn those tax dollars. Particularly when it means keeping my neck intact." She moved toward the door. "Thanks for everything, Detective."

"Thank you." Leopold walked her out of the office and down the steps. "I'll just see you to your car. Wouldn't want you to be cheated out of those tax dollars."

Alex glanced in the rearview mirror as she turned the corner and approached the Golden Nugget Hotel.

The blue Toyota was still behind her, keeping a discreet one-block distance.

She turned left, went down the underground parking ramp, and parked beside the elevator doors. She glanced quickly around before getting out and punching the button for the elevator.

She tensed.

Another car was coming down the ramp.

The elevator doors opened and she quickly stepped inside and pushed the button for the seventh floor.

No response.

She pushed the button again.

The car was closer, coming down the last curve in the ramp. Her hand reached inside her bag for her.38 revolver.

Dammit, why didn't the doors of the elevator

She stabbed the button again.

The car on the ramp came into view.

It was the blue Toyota.

She breathed a sigh of relief and released the grasp on her gun to wave at the driver behind the wheel.

He waved back. He parked in a space a short distance away as she punched the elevator button one more time.

At last the elevator doors slid shut.

Lester muttered a curse as he threw the radio-control device on the seat beside him. What the hell had happened? Decker had promised him the elevator doors would jam if he pressed the damn switch. He should have known better than to trust anyone but himself. Fucking screwup. Now he'd have to find a way to get into Graham's hotel room.

He got out of the blue Toyota and strode toward the bank of elevators. He had to move fast. He pressed the button for the elevator. He didn't know how much time he had left be fore

The doors of the elevator opened.

"Pardon me."

He whirled to see a man coming down the emergency stairs.

"I do hate to spoil your plans," the man said softly. "But I really can't let you get in that elevator."

Skit. Cop?

Lester's hand dove into his jacket for his holstered Glock. "Too late." Morgan shot him in the head.

Alex was just picking the phone up to call Sarah when the fire alarms in the hall started wailing.

She stiffened. A little too convenient? A fire was a great way to get someone out of a hotel room. She dialed the front desk. Busy.

She dialed Leopold at the precinct. "There's a fire alarm going off at my hotel. Will you check and see if it's legitimate?"

"I'm on it." He hung up.

Well, if the alarm was legitimate she wasn't going to stay here and burn up. She'd already gotten her handbag and camera equipment from the bedroom when the phone rang.

"The fire department is on the way. The hotel called and reported a fire in a car in the underground lot," Leopold said when she picked up. "It reached the gas tank and exploded. The smoke has entered the ventilating system. They're afraid there will be other explosions down there, so they're evacuating the hoteL"

She headed for the door. "Then I'm out of here."

"Good idea. I'll have an officer meet you in the lobby." The hall was only a little smoky, but it was filled with people heading for the emergency stairs at the end of the corridor.

"This way." A teenage boy was motioning her forward.

"Don't be scared. It's only seven stories. We'll get out."

She smiled and nodded. "I'm sure we will." She started down the concrete steps. "You go on. I'll be fine."

"No, I'll stay with you."

"Joseph." A middle-aged woman was motioning him to come. "We don't want to get separated."

The teenager frowned. "She's alone, Mom. She might need help."

Sweet kid. "Go on," Alex said. "I'm coming. I promise I won't panic."

"Joseph." The boy's mother's voice was shrill. She was being pushed against the wall as more people flooded the steps from the exits on the other floors.

"Okay. Okay." Joseph suddenly grabbed Alex's arm and pulled her down the stairs. "Come on. You gotta come with us."

"Really, I'll be fine. You don't-" She stopped arguing. The important thing was for all of them to get out of there.

Fifth floor.

The smoke was getting worse.

Fourth floor.

She could barely move in the shuffling crowd.

Third floor.

"Stand to one side, please. We have to get up the stairs." It was a fireman pushing his way up the stairwell. "There's been another fire reported on the fourth floor."

She moved to huddle against the wall with the rest of the people on the stairs.

The fireman was below her, then beside her. He started to go past her and then stopped abruptly. The firefighter had cool blue eyes and a hard face, but his gaze was concerned as it searched her face. "You okay, ma'am? Are your lungs burning? You look like the smoke has gotten to you."

"I scarcely-"

He reached out and took her wrist.

Warmth. Strength. Safety.

His fingers moved to the inside of her wrist. "Your pulse is going crazy. Do you have asthma or any respiratory problems?"

"N 0, nothing like-"

Christ, she was dizzy. Her knees were buckling…

But he was catching her. "Don't you worry, ma'am. I'll take good care of you."

Cool blue eyes.

No, cold blue eyes, icy blue eyes…

Music.

Ravel, she recognized dimly. She liked Ravel. Dad had liked it too. He hadn't cared for many classical selections, but he'd said Ravel was full of thunder…

Like her head. Damn, it was pounding.

"Open your eyes. I've got something that will make you feel better."

She slowly opened her eyes.

Blue eyes. The fireman with blue eyes.

"It's only aspirin." He was holding a glass of water and two pills. "It will take care of the headache."

"I'll vote for that." She swallowed the aspirins and water and handed the glass back to him. He wasn't dressed in the fireman's uniform anymore. He wore a red flannel shirt and jeans, but he still had that air of complete confidence that had impressed her on the stairs.