SA 11 - Tell Me No Lies - Elizabeth Lowell by Elizabeth Lowell

Author:Elizabeth Lowell
Language: bg
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-05-07T19:51:49+00:00

15

Stone moved restlessly through the hotel room that had been turned into an FBI command post. Field reports were scattered about, coffee pooled coldly in smudged cups that left rings on unusually expensive hotel furniture, and the sheets lay in a snarl at the foot of the bed because he had refused to allow the maid into the room. With a tired curse he smoothed his palm over his short hair.

"And he kept the goddamn key?" Stone snarled, shooting O'Donnel a narrow glance.

The younger man nodded. "Given the circumstances, there wasn't anything the agents could do. Catlin is very quick and not at all careless."

Stone grunted. "I could have told them that. Hell, I did! Did they believe me?" He made a sound of complete disgust. "For this I'm told to camp in California and run this operation. I could have run this farce by phone. I should have!"

"Yes, sir," said O'Donnel. He knew as well as Stone did that there had been no real choice in the matter. When the director said follow it to California, you followed it to California. It would have been the same if the moon were the destination. "Catlin kept his word. The bugs are in the suite."

"Except the bedroom."

"Except the bedroom," agreed O'Donnel, smiling slightly. "Wonder why he dug in over that? Maybe he and sweet Lindsay have something going after all."

"Ask him," retorted Stone.

"Thanks, but I'll pass," O'Donnel said cheerfully. "I saw the bruises on Nancy Conner's wrist. Not to mention the beauty below Ted Marsh's breastbone. Catlin doesn't pull his punches. I pity the guy who has to install the bedbug."

"There won't be one."

O'Donnel gave his boss a swift look. "But none of the bugs we used are sensitive enough to cover the bedroom. Hell, we weren't expecting him to be hostile. We figured he'd see the bugs, know they were friendly and not worry about it."

"You think Catlin was bluffing about open season, don't you?" Stone asked.

The younger man shrugged. "He knows we're following him. He knows we're not going to trash him. Why would he trash us? It would put him in a world of hurt and not help him at all."

"Suppose you had to take a walk through a dark alley," said Stone. "Suppose you knew that some sort of friendlies might follow you down the alley, and some real enemies would try to kill you there, and there was no way to tell them apart in the dark. What would you do?"

"Shoot the first thing that moved."

Stone nodded. "Catlin was sporting about it, though. He warned us first. Somebody gets shot, it's because we didn't listen."

O'Donnel stared, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. "Are you saying that we accept his shit with a grin and a shuffle?"

Without answering, Stone lit a cigarette and accepted the ashtray that O'Donnel brought to him. He gave the young agent a long, measuring look, wondering how to make the point. That was the trouble with young men. They hadn't been around long enough to know the difference between a threat and a promise.

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