tail.”
For a moment Haddenfield thought that Gary hadanswered, but it was just his outgoing voice-mail message. Haddenfield cut the connection. “Christ.”
Paul frowned. “You know, I think it
is
the same guy. Gary may be right. Who do you think it is?”
Haddenfield backed away. “I'm going in. I need to get his ass out of there.”
“Good idea,” Donna said. “I don't like the idea of—” She leaned close to the monitor. “Where's he going?”
She was looking at a dark, shadowy set of stairs. Gary had followed the man into a stairwell.
“You goddamned idiot!” Haddenfield shouted at the monitor.
All onscreen movement stopped.
“He's trying to stay quiet,” Paul said.
“It won't help. Gary is so busted,” Donna said. “That dude would have to be blind and deaf not to know he's being followed.”
The camera turned toward the stairs leading up, then to those leading down.
They watched as the camera slowly traveled downward, catching the institutional green walls and cracked stairwell lighting fixture. It moved to the landing and began the turn.
The picture jerked violently and went black.
“Hey, I didn't know we'd gone to casual Fridays.” Howe grinned at Joe as he sat down behind his desk in the squad room.
Joe was wearing a white terry-cloth robe over his shirt, tie, and slacks.”You're the first person here whohas said anything to me about this,”Joe said.”I was beginning to wonder about you homicide guys.”
“Aaah, they probably thought you were going undercover at a bathhouse. So what's with the robe?”
“I picked it up from housekeeping before I left Monica Gaines's hotel. It's standard issue for all of the guests. Monica was wearing one just like it when she ignited.”
“Okay And exactly how does that require you to prance around the squad room wearing it?”
“I'm trying to get an idea where a trigger mechanism may have been placed. And I really don't think I was prancing.”
“Sashaying?”
“Strolling.” Joe flipped up the back of the robe. “The thing is, any kind of trigger mechanism would have to completely destroy itself. There was no trace of it at the scene, and the guys down in the lab said it wasn't on what was left of the robe.”
Howe considered this.”And we know that no one could have removed it from the scene since there was a security camera trained there.”
“Right.” His cell phone rang, and he answered it. “Joe Bailey.”
“Daddy?” It was Nikki. Her voice quavered.”Daddy, can you come home?”
Joe yanked off the robe, keeping the phone pressed against his ear.”Honey, what's wrong?”
“Mommy was here again today.”
L ess than twenty minutes after Nikki's call, Joe and Howe rushed down the third-floor hallway of Joe's apartment building. Sam was waiting outside the door.
“Where is she?”Joe asked.
Sam gestured inside the apartment.”In there. She's pretty shaken up. This must be someone's idea of a sick joke. I took her out for a frozen yogurt, and when we came back, this is what we found.” Sam opened the door wide for Joe and Howe to enter.
Joe stepped inside and froze. “Jesus,” he whispered.
Howe couldn't see it. “What's wrong?”
“The furniture. It's been moved.”
“So?”
Joe glanced around. The couch was now turned away from the television, facing one of the large windows. The coffee table was now on the other side of the large room, in the middle of three chairs. Eventhe window blinds were set differently, pulled three quarters of the way up.
He turned back to Howe. “This was exactly how my wife left things when she died.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Nikki thought she heard Angela talking to her last night. I thought she'd dreamed it.”
Howe shook his head.”This is no dream, Bailey.”
Nikki appeared from her bedroom. Her face was tensed.”Mommy did it, didn't she?”
Joe rushed across the room and kneeled beside her. “No, honey. Someone's playing a trick. A mean
For a moment Haddenfield thought that Gary hadanswered, but it was just his outgoing voice-mail message. Haddenfield cut the connection. “Christ.”
Paul frowned. “You know, I think it
is
the same guy. Gary may be right. Who do you think it is?”
Haddenfield backed away. “I'm going in. I need to get his ass out of there.”
“Good idea,” Donna said. “I don't like the idea of—” She leaned close to the monitor. “Where's he going?”
She was looking at a dark, shadowy set of stairs. Gary had followed the man into a stairwell.
“You goddamned idiot!” Haddenfield shouted at the monitor.
All onscreen movement stopped.
“He's trying to stay quiet,” Paul said.
“It won't help. Gary is so busted,” Donna said. “That dude would have to be blind and deaf not to know he's being followed.”
The camera turned toward the stairs leading up, then to those leading down.
They watched as the camera slowly traveled downward, catching the institutional green walls and cracked stairwell lighting fixture. It moved to the landing and began the turn.
The picture jerked violently and went black.
“Hey, I didn't know we'd gone to casual Fridays.” Howe grinned at Joe as he sat down behind his desk in the squad room.
Joe was wearing a white terry-cloth robe over his shirt, tie, and slacks.”You're the first person here whohas said anything to me about this,”Joe said.”I was beginning to wonder about you homicide guys.”
“Aaah, they probably thought you were going undercover at a bathhouse. So what's with the robe?”
“I picked it up from housekeeping before I left Monica Gaines's hotel. It's standard issue for all of the guests. Monica was wearing one just like it when she ignited.”
“Okay And exactly how does that require you to prance around the squad room wearing it?”
“I'm trying to get an idea where a trigger mechanism may have been placed. And I really don't think I was prancing.”
“Sashaying?”
“Strolling.” Joe flipped up the back of the robe. “The thing is, any kind of trigger mechanism would have to completely destroy itself. There was no trace of it at the scene, and the guys down in the lab said it wasn't on what was left of the robe.”
Howe considered this.”And we know that no one could have removed it from the scene since there was a security camera trained there.”
“Right.” His cell phone rang, and he answered it. “Joe Bailey.”
“Daddy?” It was Nikki. Her voice quavered.”Daddy, can you come home?”
Joe yanked off the robe, keeping the phone pressed against his ear.”Honey, what's wrong?”
“Mommy was here again today.”
L ess than twenty minutes after Nikki's call, Joe and Howe rushed down the third-floor hallway of Joe's apartment building. Sam was waiting outside the door.
“Where is she?”Joe asked.
Sam gestured inside the apartment.”In there. She's pretty shaken up. This must be someone's idea of a sick joke. I took her out for a frozen yogurt, and when we came back, this is what we found.” Sam opened the door wide for Joe and Howe to enter.
Joe stepped inside and froze. “Jesus,” he whispered.
Howe couldn't see it. “What's wrong?”
“The furniture. It's been moved.”
“So?”
Joe glanced around. The couch was now turned away from the television, facing one of the large windows. The coffee table was now on the other side of the large room, in the middle of three chairs. Eventhe window blinds were set differently, pulled three quarters of the way up.
He turned back to Howe. “This was exactly how my wife left things when she died.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Nikki thought she heard Angela talking to her last night. I thought she'd dreamed it.”
Howe shook his head.”This is no dream, Bailey.”
Nikki appeared from her bedroom. Her face was tensed.”Mommy did it, didn't she?”
Joe rushed across the room and kneeled beside her. “No, honey. Someone's playing a trick. A mean
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