Roll the Dice by Mimi Barbour Page B

do.
    She hurried to the next corner in time to see the elevator doors close
with her suspect smiling evilly her from inside. Now it was time to get help.
    Slowing down near the information center, she demanded. “Call security.”
Her no-nonsense voice told the woman in a nurse's uniform sitting behind the
desk she was serious. When suspicion made her hesitate, Aurora pulled her
jacket aside to show off her badge. Fumbling with the receiver, the nurse
nodded and finally picked up the phone.
    ‘Tell them to check this elevator and detain anyone wearing a gray
sweatshirt. He’s a felon and he’s dangerous, so warn them to be careful.”
    “Aurora hit the stairs at a dead run, hoping that her impression of him
wanting to exit would be correct. That he would choose the parking area as the
safest way to leave the building.
    Out of breath, side sore and body heaving, she slowed when she got to
the first parking garage. Slowly she stepped out and swung her gun in both
directions praying to see Rhondo making his way to a vehicle.  
    “Dammit!” No luck—nobody in sight that fit his description at all.
Although she did manage to scare the hell out of an older couple when they came
around the corner.
    “Did you see anyone running past here? A man wearing a gray sweatshirt?”
Her voice sounded agitated due to lack of oxygen.
    “Neither the gray-haired man nor the overweight woman could talk.
Instead they huddled together and stared at the gun in her hand.
    She holstered it and said. “Sorry, I’m a detective with the LVPD.   There’s a suspect on the loose and I thought
he might have come this way. I guess I’m mistaken.” She attempted a smile and
it seemed to do the trick because the woman stopped crying instantly.
    As she turned to go back up the stairs, she heard the older fellow
muttering, his voice wavering a great deal. “Scare the hell outta folks, waving
a gun around. What’s this world coming to?”
    Knowing it would be useless; she did try the bottom lot and turned out
she was right. No sight of any disturbance whatsoever. Disappointment made her
cuss.  
    Finally, she worked her way back to the main floor and approached the
area where three security guards were congregated. One was holding a piece of
gray clothing in his hand and the others were wearing disgusted expressions.
    The oldest of the three stepped forward, his stomach protruding past the
waistband of his navy uniform. “Sorry ma’am, he gave us the slip. We covered
the elevator as directed, but after we arrived a woman exited carrying this. He
held up a gray sweatshirt exactly like the kind Rhondo had been wearing. “She
says she found it lying in a heap in the corner and intended to turn it into
the lost and found.”
      “Where is she?”
    “We’ve held her over there in the office in case you had some
questions.” The pride in his voice made her aware that he expected some
recognition for making the call.
    “You were a cop?”  
    “Yes ma’am, twenty years. Had to quit, my wife couldn’t take it
anymore.”
    “It’s our loss.”
    Walking straighter, he pointed out the room where the woman sat waiting.
“Thanks. Appreciate that.”
    Before she left, she added. “Our suspect is called Earl Rhondo, one
hundred and seventy-five pounds, maybe six feet, short
dark hair and dark brown eyes. He’s mean and likes to hurt people.   He wore that sweatshirt when I happened to
run into him in the nursery. Then he ran. You got any security tapes I can see—especially of the nursery area?”
    “Sure, I’ll organize that for you pronto.”
    “I’ll send someone to pick them up, Mr…?
    “Name’s Bill. Bill Ruele.”
    “Right Bill. Thanks for your help.” She shook his hand, and pulling her
phone from her pocket, she stopped to make the call that would bring the rest
of her team running.
    Entering the small space where a short woman about fifty sat waiting,
she pulled out a small book and a pen.
    “Good evening. My name is