Deadly Little Secrets Page 0,51

“You worry too much, honey. But okay. Take it easy out there, it’s raining.”

“Will do,” he said, closing the door behind him.

He dialed as he drove to the Staples. It wouldn’t do to come home without the ink now.

“What?” Perkins answered the phone, his voice shaking. “I didn’t call you.”

“Idiot,” he stated calmly. “In this case, you should have. What the hell happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Perkins lied. “Nothing.”

“Perkins, don’t be an ass. Would I be calling if nothing happened?”

“It was a fluke,” he began, protesting his competence. “The computer virus should have just corrupted her files. I didn’t know she’d been shot at, I didn’t know anyone had a hit on her. How could I know? That wasn’t me, the shot. I just diddled the files, trying to get her off the scent.”

There was a small popping sound through the phone, and he heard the thump of the other man’s body collapsing onto some hard surface. He quickly held the phone away from his ear as Perkins’s phone clattered to the floor.

He smiled, relieved. At least Jurgens could be counted on.

Right.

Now to find someone competent to monitor the situation. Perkins was a terrible liar, but he had truly been concerned enough about the new searches to act rashly. The idiot. Now what might have passed off as a cursory review would be amped up to a full-scale check. Perkins’s death might or might not be a factor, but either way, Perkins had put the operation in jeopardy and he never allowed that.

Problem number two, though, was the shot. Had his rival on the East Coast gotten wind of the investigation as well? If he’d stepped back into this to muddle the works again…

There was a faint rattle of sound from the phone, and he put his ear back to the receiver.

“Well?” he demanded.

“Done and done,” Jurgens said with satisfaction. “Last deposit?”

“In thirty-five minutes, same Swiss account. You’ll transfer the money out by morning this time, understood? And dispose of the phone.”

“Ja.”

“One more thing.” There was a waiting silence, so he continued. “Perkins mentioned a shot at the woman. Were you aware of it? Oh, and any suggestions on a new monitor for the situation?”

“It is possible.” Another silence. “A second messenger will come.”

“Good.”

The line went dead, and he walked into Staples to get ink.

Chapter Nine

“We’ll trace the call, but it probably won’t register.” The internal security geek qualified his answer. “Too short.”

“Thanks.” Ana hung up, and went to report the latest to the boss. She had to call McGuire and Hines before she headed out as well. If she’d stirred this much insanity up by making phone calls, she needed to warn them as well.

She didn’t want to tell her boss about the call, but if she let it wait till tomorrow, Pretzky would fry her ass.

“Back off what?” Pretzky mulled. Ana was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, so she kept quiet. “I’m thinking this isn’t about Rome, Burton. How ’bout you?”

Reluctantly, Ana agreed. “There are ways it might be, but they’re a stretch,” she finally said. “And the first closed case I finished here is just that, closed.”

“Yeah, with that perp dead, that isn’t a bone to pick.” Pretzky paced back and forth in the small office. “Your dinner date cancel?” she said, turning suddenly to face Ana.

“Uh, no.” Ana checked her watch. “He’ll be here in about twenty minutes. He’ll pick me up downstairs. On the call though, I wanted to be sure and follow procedure, let you know.”

“Good, good,” Pretzky muttered. She shot Ana a sharp look. “You’ve had a shitty ride, haven’t you, Burton? Pretty shitty day too.”

Ana wanted to cry. Instead, she managed a laugh. It was watery, and weak, but it was a laugh. “Yeah, that’s an under-statement though.”

Pretzky nodded. “When one of us screws up, it’s bad. May seem like a little thing, but you and I both know those little things have a way of turning into one damn all mess. Been there, done that. Go finish up, and get out of here. Ring me here when you get in tonight.” She handed Ana a card. Neatly printed on the back was a telephone number. Ana looked up at her.

“That’s my personal cell. I want to know you’re in and okay.”

“Thanks. Will do.” Ana kept her voice clear and sharp, even though the gesture made her want to crumble into a heap of quivering goo. Personal gestures, closeness, had that effect these days, no matter how hard she worked to shut