“Peabody, Olsen, Tredway.” After each name, Eve pointed in a direction. “You’re in my way, Mr. Knightly.”
“Get out of my house. Marco, get Wesley on the ’link. I don’t give a fuck who he’s talking to! Get him now!”
“You need to move, Mr. Knightly.”
“You need to move,” he snapped back, and shoved her.
Eve signaled the others to stay back with a hand held down at her side. Oh, yeah, she knew him. And just which buttons to push.
“You may think you’re in charge here, but you’re wrong. I’m in charge. You’re going to do what I tell you to do and step back. You don’t want to lay a hand on me again.”
“You don’t tell me what to do! Get out of my house.” He backhanded her. She could’ve dodged it—he telegraphed the move—but she wanted the hit, wanted the taste of blood in her mouth.
She heard four weapons slap out of their harnesses.
“Stand down,” she said easily. “I’ve got this.”
As she lifted a hand to wipe the blood from her mouth, she shot her foot out, swept it, and took his legs out from under him.
He fell hard, as she’d meant him to.
She pulled her restraints, pressed her knee into the small of his back, yanked his arms behind his back as he struggled and spat obscenities. “Kyle Knightly, you’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer.” She leaned down closer. “Believe me, other charges will follow. Peabody, send for a couple of uniforms in a black-and-white to take Mr. Knightly into Central for booking. No rush,” she added.
She pulled her comm. “Baxter, he’s not going to rabbit. Come on in, give us a hand.”
Tredway hauled Knightly to his feet. “I’ve got him, Dallas. Why don’t we have a seat?”
“Take your hands off me. Get these things off me. Do you know who I am?”
“I know exactly who you are,” Eve said.
She watched his face, his eyes as she wandered the large, open, sleekly furnished main level. Plenty of rage—he shook with rage—but no fear, not yet.
Then she saw it, watched it leap through the rage as she started up the first curve of open iron steps.
“Up here, isn’t it?”
His bedroom and an office area both opened onto the wide balcony that overlooked the main level. But beyond, snug behind a jog in the wall, was a large door, closed and locked.
She tapped on it, heard the ring of metal.
“McNab.”
“Yo.” He came double time.
“Can you bypass the security on this?”
“Wowzer. As much as he’s got on the exterior. It’ll take some time, but I’ll get you in.”
“Let me know.”
She walked back to the bedroom, and Trueheart came upstairs. “Baxter said you might want some help up here.”
“Take the office, Detective. Let’s be thorough.”
She found porn—no law against it—some sex aids for solo flights. He wouldn’t bring women here, she thought. No need for women here.
McNab had been right about the security screens in every room—and the audio.
She stepped out again when she heard Kyle shouting.
He looked up as two uniforms gripped his arms. “I’ll make you pay.”
“You know what we’re going to find when my e-guy gets through that door, Kyle. We both know. You’ll be the one paying for the rest of your miserable life.”
When the uniforms hauled him out, Olsen shut the door behind them. “Whew, listen to the quiet.”
“McNab, how much longer?”
“Nearly got it! This bitch is slick, she is crazy slick.”
“Peabody, the battering ram, and this time I mean it.”
“Come on, Dallas!” A kind of panic hit McNab’s voice. “It’s a matter of pride now. Five minutes. Five more.”
It took ten, but he let out a war whoop. “She’s down.”
He glanced back as Eve walked to him. “Could be booby-trapped inside.”
“He’s the best, remember? He’d never believe anybody would get this far. But … stand back.”
Eve eased the door open, shoved it clear, stared into pitch dark. “Lights on full,” she ordered.
The dark remained.
“Probably cued to his voiceprint,” McNab told her. “I can fix that, but—”
“It’ll take a minute.”
“I’ve got a flashlight.” Tredway stepped behind her, turned on his flash, swept the area slowly.