Неизвестный - 6. Justice For All

“Hi,” Sandy said, swinging her ass as she hurried toward Darla.

She hooked her arm through Darla’s and kissed her cheek. Then she tossed her head and smiled at the man who stood watching them. “Are these our dates, honey?”

“I guess,” Darla said, looking a little uncertain.

Sandy figured this wasn’t the guy Darla had talked to in the parking lot at the Fist. Guys like the ones in the Navigator didn’t troll the streets for what they wanted. They had someone else do it. She tried to get a look at the rear of the car as she and Darla walked over, but she couldn’t see the license plate.

“Who’s your friend,” the man said to Darla in crisp English. He had an accent, but his speech was polished.

“This is—”

“Samantha,” Sandy said quickly, cocking her hips to give him a good look at her legs as the skirt pulled up almost to her crotch. “But everyone calls me Sam. Darla says we’re going to a party. I can’t wait.

I love parties.”

He looked them over for a long minute, then stepped aside and gestured to the rear of the SUV. Sandy looked down the street, but she didn’t see Dell’s motorcycle or anything resembling a cop car. Used to be Frye showed up in her Corvette, but lately she’d been in a standard issue. There was no sign of an unmarked. Which meant no one was going to know where they went. She took Darla’s hand. “Well, come on, honey. Let’s party!”

Sandy slid into the backseat where another man waited on the far side and Darla crowded next to her, as if seeking shelter. Then the door closed and the Navigator pulled out and headed north. Sandy tried to

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Justice for All

get a look out the window around the big guy sitting next to her, but all she could see was the sign pointing to the on-ramp to 95 North.

They could be anywhere from Trenton to New York City in an hour.

v

Michael reached out in the dark and switched on the bedside light when she felt Sloan get out of bed. Sitting up, she let the sheet fall to her waist. Sloan stood just inside the bedroom door, pulling on a T-shirt over her boxers. “Can’t sleep?”

“Hey,” Sloan whispered. “Sorry. I thought you were asleep.”

“Drifting. I didn’t drink because I was afraid it might give me a headache, so I didn’t have anything to dull the pain of the evening.”

Sloan laughed. “You too, huh?”

“It did seem endless. I’d forgotten how much I dislike these functions, even if they are for a good cause.” Michael shrugged. “I’m not altogether certain about this particular cause.”

Sloan sat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t like the mayor?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know him, but I’m not entirely certain that he’s really the one making the decisions.” She frowned. “There was a very interesting assortment of people there tonight.”

“Some pretty high-powered ones,” Sloan said carefully, not wanting to alarm her unnecessarily. Even though Michael said she was feeling better, she’d only begun to put in regular workdays and she still seemed pale and fragile. The last thing she needed was to worry about things that might not even involve her. Not when Sloan had a feeling she was the one who really interested Zamora. If he didn’t want her attention, why send those photos to her computer? They had to be a warning. And if they were, then it was Sloan they wanted, not Michael. “Your neighbor tonight—Zamora. I understand he’s pretty influential.”

“Mmm,” Michael said absently. “He owns a great deal of real estate along both sides of the river, as well as major shares in several investment companies.” She reached for the cup of tea she’d left on her bedside table, and sipped it. “It’s funny you should mention him. He contacted me yesterday about a business proposal.”

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RADclY fFe

“For Innova?” Sloan asked. Michael’s design company had an international reputation, and Michael was often approached with investment opportunities. She didn’t believe for a second that was Zamora’s true intention, but Michael had no reason to suspect him of anything out of the ordinary, so Sloan forced herself to sound casual.

“What did you tell him?”

Michael leaned back against the pillows and stroked Sloan’s forearm. “Oh, I told him I’d keep him in mind.” She smiled. “But that right now, I wasn’t looking for partners.”

“He seemed pretty friendly at dinner tonight.”

“With men like that, charm comes naturally. He reminds me of Nicholas.”

Sloan wanted to say that Michael’s ex-husband Nicholas, a low-life cheating embezzler, was a choirboy compared to Kratos Zamora.

“Impressed with himself, huh?”

Michael smiled. “He’s certainly self-assured.” She threaded her fingers through Sloan’s and gave her hand a little shake. “I noticed you getting some attention yourself.”

Sloan frowned. “I don’t—”

“The redhead in the very revealing dress.”

“Oh. Her.” Sloan thought about the business card with a telephone number scrawled on the back she’d slid from the front pocket of her pants and stowed in the glove compartment of her car when Michael wasn’t looking. She thought about the fingers grazing the inside of her thigh, drifting over her stomach. “She was just making idle chat.”

“I’ve never seen her before. Who is she?”

“I don’t know. Probably another Society Hill heiress with more money than she knows what to do with. Isn’t that one of the primary requirements for an invitation to fund-raisers like this?”

“Well, the money part certainly is.” Michael sighed. “Will you try to come back to bed tonight?”

Sloan leaned over and kissed her. “I just want to check a few things. I won’t be long.”

Michael cupped the back of Sloan’s neck and held her close for another long kiss. “Wake me when you come to bed.”

v

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Justice for All

“That’s our second pass through here,” Rebecca said. “I don’t see her.”

Dell leaned forward from the back seat of the unmarked, craning her neck to see around Watts. This section of Spring Garden was crowded with bars, and foot traffic was heavy. They were almost to Delaware Avenue, and they still hadn’t seen Sandy.

“Maybe she walked up a few blocks. Let’s go around again,” Dell urged.

“Hey, kid, you’re breathing down my neck,” Watts said. “Take it easy. We’ll find her.”

“How?” Dell snapped. “She’s gone already. She could be anywhere.”

Rebecca pulled into the darkened parking lot of a restaurant that had gone out of business and turned off the engine. “We wait for her to call us.”

“I’m going to check the clubs,” Dell said, pushing open the back door. “Someone may have talked to these guys tonight. They might know where the party is.”

“Yo,” Watts yelled, reaching for his door.

“I’ll handle it,” Rebecca said quietly. She slid out of the car and closed her door. “Mitchell. Wait.”

Dell took another few steps, then stopped just short of the street.

Rebecca walked unhurriedly over to her. “Step back from the light.”

Together, they moved into the shadows of the boarded-up building.

“Why is it a bad idea for you to start asking around about Sandy in the clubs?”

Dell balled up her fists, her arms rigid at her sides, and looked past Rebecca at the cars streaming by on the street. She didn’t want to answer the question. She didn’t want to think about why she couldn’t do what she needed to do to find Sandy. To look after her. She didn’t want to have to choose anything over the woman she loved, ever again.

“I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t be a cop if it means I have to put everything else in front of her.” She stared at Rebecca, her eyes hot with tears she refused to shed. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.”