“Did you look on his computer?”
“How would I do that?”
“I have the keys to his office and all his passwords. Now, granted, they’re five years old. But Ray never updated a thing in his life.”
“Well, jeez. Why didn’t you say so?”
* * *
Ray’s office was located on a side street near Government Center in a building that had seen better days. Kathryn peered through the streaky glass door into the dingy lobby, then let herself in using Sylvia’s key. It was nine-thirty at night. The lights were on in the lobby, but the place seemed deserted. This wasn’t the sort of building where people toiled till midnight. Still, she was nervous as she waited for the ancient elevator. The smell of it when she got in—a combination of sweat, brass polish, and the oil they used to keep it running—took her back to that summer after college, working for Ray as a file clerk. She’d been so shocked at the parade of grifters and thugs and losers who were his clients. It was an education all right, but she hadn’t learned her lesson.
On the fifth floor, her feet found their way to his door. Suite 5100 was an overblown title for two little rooms with wall-to-wall carpet looking out onto an air shaft. But “Raymond J. Logue, Esq., Attorney at Law” still had a ring to it, of a man with a wad of cash in his pocket, a bottle in the bottom drawer, and connections at city hall. She shook her head, smiling, as she raised the key to the lock.
It didn’t fit.
Why was she surprised? With everything that had happened in the last five years, even someone as disorganized as Ray would think to change the locks. She had nothing on her that could be used to force it, and if she had, she wouldn’t know what to do with it. As she considered her options, her eye traveled upward. Shit. Something else had changed since she’d been here last. Ray had installed a security camera, and it was pointed right at her. Did he check the feed regularly? Was it one of those that dinged his phone when someone came to the door, like at the town house? If so, he just saw her try to break in. He was probably on the phone with Charlie right now, giving up her location.
Forget the money. She had to get out of here.
She ran down five flights, out the door, and around the corner to where she’d left Sylvia’s Volvo. Looking over her shoulder, she slid into the driver’s seat. There was hope. No one had followed her yet. If they did show up, they wouldn’t recognize this car, which had New Hampshire plates and was registered to a person they’d never heard of. She could get away clean—if not for one problem.
She had to go back for her cat.
At that hour, the drive to the town house took less than ten minutes. She parked a few blocks away, skulking through the alley on a reconnaissance mission to make sure they weren’t lying in wait. The house was dark. The only car parked behind it was her own SUV. She went around, cautiously approaching the front of the house. None of the cars on the block appeared occupied. The people walking dogs in the park were too well-dressed to work for Charlie. It seemed like nobody was watching, which surprised her, since the house was the obvious place to look for her. Did they think she’d be too smart to come back here? Hah, they were wrong.
She went around back and let herself in. All was quiet until the security system started beeping. Damn. She purposely didn’t arm it when she left, knowing they used it to monitor her comings and goings. The last Kathryn heard, Madison was in DC ratting her out to the feds, but she must’ve come in and reset it at some point. Great. If Kathryn let the alarm trigger, it would make a racket and call the cops. But disarming it would also blow her cover, though not as dramatically. They’d know someone had entered the house, though not necessarily that it was her. Still, Charlie would surely come to check it out. Cursing, she tapped in the code and entered an override to change it to a new code. At least then he wouldn’t be able to sneak up on her. And if he tried—well, that’s what the gun was for.
Lucy came running. Kathryn picked her up, holding her tight and kissing her silky head, tears in her eyes. But this was no time for an emotional reunion. They had to get out of there fast, and for that, she would need to use the cat carrier, which Lucy despised. A few minutes later, she was in the living room, struggling in the dark to get the cat into the damn thing when the security system started beeping again. It had to be Charlie, trying to break in. He would kill her if she let him. Her hands shook as she put Lucy down. The gun was on the end table beside her. She’d never once fired it—not at a person, not even at the range. Yet she knew in her heart that her aim would be true. She and Charlie had been playing chicken since they were kids. Time to put an end to it.