Or he might not have been here at all, given Dana’s ever-growing paranoia.
“That her?” Toly asked, and she straightened. He was pointing at the window with his cigarette, and inside, Dana stood in the center of her living room, dressed in slouchy sweats, her hair falling out of its messy bun, her face pale and twisted with fear. She held a gun, and had it trained on them.
“Shit,” Melissa hissed, and stepped forward to press a hand to the glass. A small hand, a woman’s hand. “Dana!” she called, shouting to be heard through the window. “It’s me – Detective Dixon. Can you let me in?”
“Detective?” Dana’s voice was muffled, but still audible, shrill and tight.
“Yes, it’s me.” Melissa leaned in close, and pushed her hair off her face. She even offered a smile. “I brought a – a coworker. Can you let us in? And put the gun down, please?”
“The…” Dana looked down at the gun in her hands, and then held it away from her, as though startled and horrified to have found herself holding it. “Oh, God,” she exclaimed, and set the thing hastily on the coffee table. She hurried, then, to the window, threw the lock, and heaved it up, shaking terribly the whole time. She stepped back, afterward, clutching at the front of her hoodie, and gave them space to duck inside.
Her gaze snapped to Toly straight off, as Melissa had predicted.
Melissa stepped between them, drawing her attention. “Dana,” she said, in her most soothing voice, “this is my coworker, To–”
He cleared his throat.
“Tom. My coworker Tom. He was helping me with a case when you called.”
“He’s a detective?” Her gaze darted Toly’s way again, huge and alarmed. “He doesn’t look like – maybe I shouldn’t have called, I don’t–”
“I’m undercover,” Toly said, in a truly horrible attempt at an American accent.
Dana blinked at him, mouth slightly ajar.
“Dana,” Melissa said, stepping in closer, recapturing her attention. “What’s going on? Where did you see your stalker? My partner and I” – she might be able to laugh about that, later – “just came up the fire escape hoping to apprehend him, but we didn’t see anyone.” She carefully didn’t say:Are you seeing things that aren’t there?
“Oh. Oh, I…” Dana reached to drag a hand through her hair, obviously forgetting she’d tied it back and all but ruined what was left of her bun. She didn’t seem to notice. “He was–” She stepped around Melissa so she could peer out the window. “He was right there! Where I saw him last time!”
“Okay, I believe you.” Melissa turned to Toly and tilted her head toward the kitchen, tipping her hand in front of her mouth in silent request for water. In turn, he pointed to the open bottle of wine and half-full glass of red on the coffee table, sitting beside the gun Dana had put down. She mouthedwaterand waved him on. He complied with a withering look that might have crumpled her, in a different setting. Now, she turned her attention to Dana, staring frightfully out the window.
“He was right there.” She pointed, fingertip thumping against the glass. Her nail looked bitten and ragged. “It wasn’t the grill this time, I know it wasn’t!” She turned watery, pleading eyes on Melissa. “I wasn’t imagining him!”
“I know you weren’t.” A glass of water appeared between them, and Melissa took it and passed it along; Dana’s hand shook so badly that she spilled a little on the floor. “The last time I was here, I went out and had a look around on the fire escape before I left. Remember?”
She nodded, sniffling, and managed to take a sip of water, teeth chattering against the rim of the glass.
“Well, I found a bit of blood on one of the rails, right here under the window, and we ran it through the system.”
Dana gaped at her. She looked like she’d been struck, and Melissa took the glass from her and set it aside before it could fall and shatter. “You – you found–”
“Yes. We have reason to believe that there’s been more than one man out on your fire escape.”
Her brows knitted, mouth working. “How–”
“We believe someone was trying to frighten you, and someone else was trying to caution you. I need you to think back to that night. Think back to earliertonight. Can you give me anything more specific about the man you saw? Any distinguishing features. Something about his face, or his clothes. Did he try to speak to you? Did he touch the glass? I can have a Forensics team come and dust for prints.”
She sniffled and chewed at her lip in thought. “Um, he–”
Toly said something low in Russian, and as Melissa turned, she heard what he must have: a key turning in the lock. Someone was coming into the apartment.
~*~
Fuck, what now? Pongo thought, frozen in the first, startling moment of Ben’s flight.
But as the man shouldered a woman aside – she shouted – and slapped at the door with both hands to push his way out, a chair scraped and Contreras was up and across the shop, giving chase.
“Come on,” Kat said, and then Pongo was up on his feet, too, and they were following.