High Noon Page 0,147

thirty-five. He was never going to let Roy live. No matter what I did or said, no matter what was done, it was always going to end the way it ended."

There was a pause, and she could hear Duncan let out a long breath. "He gave it enough time to make sure you'd get there. Built in some time so he could play with you. He wanted you to see it. He wanted you on the spot. You know that, Phoebe."

"He wanted me to bargain and wheedle and beg. And he wanted me to know, after it was done, that none of it mattered. Nothing I do will matter, because everything's already set. Clock's ticking down."

"He's got the last part wrong, because what you do will matter."

"He's got me scared to death. Just where he wants me."

"You called the wrong guy if you expect me to tell you not to be scared. What are you going to do about it?"

"What am I going to do about being scared?"

"No, what are you going to do about finding him so you don't have to be scared anymore."

"I'm reading files and looking for any... You're not going to tell me to be strong and brave?"

"I've seen you in action, I know you're both. But there are limits. Why don't I come over? I can read files."

She swiveled from her desk so she could look at the dark pressing on the windows. "You're offering to come over so I don't have to feel strong and brave." The empty spot inside her began to close. "That's done the job."

"Give me half an hour and-"

"No, no, I don't need you to come. I guess I just needed you to say you would. I just needed to hear't h a't... that I had an option," she realized. "Let me ask you one question, and remember, I'm an active listener, so I'll know if you're lying. Considering the situation, are you sorry you asked me out for that drink?"

"Considering any situation, I figure it was the best move I ever made." She could smile. "Maybe second best, after deciding to buy a sixpack and a lottery ticket."

"Might be running neck and neck. Phoebe, why don't you pack it in for the night? Get some sleep."

"Yeah, maybe I'll do that."

"I don't know if I'm an active listener, but I know a lie when I hear one."

"Maybe I'll do that in a couple hours. Thanks for saying what I needed to hear."

"I'll be around if you need to hear something else."

"Good night, Duncan."

After a short, restless night, Phoebe considered working from home. Which would mean, she knew, little work at all, as she'd decided to keep Carly out of school for at least a few days.

Even if she could convince Carly to occupy herself elsewhere, Phoebe knew she'd be distracted-and she'd feel guilty being at home and barricading herself from her daughter. And her mother.

Better to go in, stay busy, be productive. There were cops on the house, no need to worry. Unless he got past the cops, she thought as she tried to work a miracle with makeup. Which he wouldn't, but if he did, there was the security alarm.

And someone who could rig a bomb with remote and timer could probably bypass an alarm.

But he wouldn't, she told herself. He wouldn't.

She gave up on any attempt to style her hair and simply yanked it back in a tail.

All her efforts were going to focus on identifying Roy's killer, finding him and arresting him. Until then paperwork would wait, the scheduled training sessions would be postponed.

Lack of sleep meant she had a solid list of names. She'd start knocking on doors that morning, asking questions, gauging ground. It could be over by end of shift, she told herself as she gathered her files. And if it wasn't, she'd keep right on until it was over.

As she started out of her room, she calculated it was early enough for her to slip downstairs, make coffee, leave a note and be out before anyone stirred.

She stopped by Carly's door, peeked in.

Her daughter was sprawled across the bed, covers kicked off. The worn-eared bear Carry chose most often for a sleeping companion dozed at the tips of her fingers.

Satisfied, Phoebe backed away. If she caved and crept in to cover Carly, give her a quick kiss, that would be that. The kid was a light morning sleeper. Blue eyes would pop right open, and the questions would begin.

Instead, Phoebe continued downstairs. Coffee,