Уильям Макгиверн - Summitt

“Good... I just hope we can put my outburst at you behind us and get to work. We do have to trust each other, you realize.”

Selby said, “What about Captain Slocum and his people?”

“Sergeant Wilger was detailed to the DA’s section by Slocum,” Brett said, “even before we knew we were going to trial. But the Commonwealth is in charge of this prosecution, which means the captain reports to this office. If he doesn’t do his job we have the authority to suspend him.”

“Tell me, how did you happen to be assigned to this case?”

“It didn’t happen, Mr. Selby. I was in line for it. The other deputies are on trial duty and our staff back-up, Bill Corum, is out with a flare-up of diabetes.” She smiled tightly. “Is that what’s bothering you? That I might not be any good because I’m not wearing a beard and a jockstrap?”

“Come on, Miss Brett, I said I was glad we’re on the same side. But I can’t help wondering about other things.”

“Such as?”

“Mr. Davic ran a check on me, even before you served the warrant on Thomson. He’d learned my wife was dead, among other things.”

“What’s your question then?”

“How did he know in advance that Earl Thomson was involved? Or that a warrant might be served?”

“There’s an obvious answer to that. Which is that I told him. Is that what you think?”

“No, but I have to wonder about it.”

She shrugged and turned back to the windows. The lights glinted in her hair, which was damp from the rain. Something distracted her, because she moved closer to the slotted blinds, her eyes traveling along the parking mall. He noticed a tremor in her hand as she loosened her scarf.

“Well, if you’re wondering about Mr. Davic,” she said, “you must also be wondering about Lieutenant Eberle. Do you think we staged that scene in my outer office for your benefit? That we waited until we heard the elevator door close, heard your footsteps in the corridor and then went into an act to convince you I’m one of the good guys?”

“No, that didn’t occur to me,” Selby said truthfully.

“But you’re thinking about it now.”

Selby said, “It was the second scene tonight, wasn’t it?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Her phone rang. She crossed to her desk and lifted the receiver. “Dorcas Brett,” she said sharply, then, “all right, just a minute.” She lowered the phone to her side.

She looked suddenly tired, and angry again. “You meant Mr. Lorso reading me out. That was the other scene you imply might have been staged, right?”

He shrugged. “Miss Brett, I’m her father, I can’t take any more chances. I’m dependent on you, but I can’t afford to overlook anything. I’ve had one hell of a runaround since this started, as you know...”

Sighing wearily, she nodded at the phone. “Sergeant Wilger’s finished the paperwork at Magistrate Teague’s. He wants to know if you’d like him to pick you up in the morning. We’re due in court around eight-thirty.”

“Tell him no thanks, I guess we’ll meet you there.”

“Fine... then I’ll say good night, Mr. Selby.”

He had the feeling she wanted to add something to that, but he couldn’t be sure because her expression was masked by the overhead lights shadowing her eyes.

Selby signed the lobby check-out register and pushed through the revolving doors. The streets and sidewalks were slick with rain that reflected the red and green Christmas lights.

The parking mall was several hundred yards long, a broad avenue that ran from City Hall to the church, and was divided by a green belt with graveled crosswalks and playing fountains. The big square was dark except for the Christmas lights and a flashing neon bar sign. A young couple walked past the bar, their arms linking them together in a single, swaying unit.

Turning his collar up against the wind, he walked toward the dark bulk of the church. His footsteps sounded above the leaves rustling in the gutters. Something had distracted Brett, he knew. He looked back at City Hall, and saw that her office lights were still on. He wondered what had caught her attention in the mall. Her face had been worried when she turned from the window. But Selby saw nothing unusual — water splashing in the fountains, a shimmer of neon on parked cars...

He passed the church and turned into the narrow street where he was parked. Another sound mingled then with the wind stirring the trees. A car had started up. Glancing the length of the mall, Selby saw exhaust fumes rising from a sedan facing City Hall.

There was a strength about her, he thought, a sense of conviction that impressed him. People could fake those heated responses, but they couldn’t fake the fire he sensed in her.

The Italian, Dom Lorso, had been furious with her. So had Eberle. Had that been an act? Or had she enraged them by ignoring the local power structure? Was that what made her a lightning rod for their attacks? If that was true, she wasn’t alone... Shana had been a target, and now he was in Slocum’s and Thomson’s sights too.

The sedan, a black Lincoln, turned on its headlights. For some reason, he thought of Gideen and his son...

Dorcas Brett came through the doors of City Hall, belting her raincoat as she walked toward St. Christopher’s, her high heels sounding sharply in the silence.

The grassy divider and fountains glittered in the lights of the moving Lincoln. Selby thought of Gideen again, and the black Connie that had tailed him around Muhlenburg and Buck Run...

Turning into an access lane, the Continental swung into the street behind Brett, the powerful lights outlining her slim figure. And Davey... Davey had told him about the car following Shana and Brett yesterday.

She was fifty yards from him. The Lincoln was about the same distance behind her, but gathering speed, the sound of the motor rising sharply.

Selby ran through the mall and between the trees along the divider, waving desperately at her. But she was blinded by headlights; his warning shouts were lost in the motor’s roar.

There was only an instant to consider the angle and to judge his speed and the car’s. The angle was wrong, he didn’t have the edge, but that was his last reasoned thought; adrenaline swept aside everything then but his instincts and reflexes.

Breaking from the shadow of the trees. Selby threw himself in a headlong dive in front of the car, and just managed to roll out of the way of its wheels and glaring headlights.

His swinging arm struck Brett at the knees. They tumbled across the sidewalk and against a storefront at the same instant the car’s fender struck at the flying hem of Selby’s raincoat.

Twisted rubber sounded as the Lincoln bounced off the curb. In moments its tail light had flashed from sight beyond the big church.

A man in a leather jacket appeared from the bar. “Up to me, them hit-run assholes get life. You people okay? Saw the whole thing, crazy goddamn fools. You okay?”

“I guess so,” Selby called across the mall. He held Brett close to him; she was shaking. “You get a license number?”

“Saw the whole thing, man. They shouldn’t be allowed behind a wheel, crazy bastards. Bunch of drunken Puertos or freaked-out kids. The lady all right?”

“Call the cops,” Selby shouted at him.

“That’s another thing,” the man said. “Where’s a cop when you want him? On their butts in a parked squad somewhere...”

He rubbed his face and returned unsteadily to the bar, the closing door cutting off a wail of country music.

Selby helped Dorcas Brett to her feet. He found her handbag and put it in her hands. “Can you walk?”

“I dropped my purse.” She was trembling. “My keys are in it.”