Page 77 of A Deeper Darkness
Taranto wasn’t kidding. The information he’d given her must have been inflammatory. She passed the Hay Adams Hotel at a sprint, saw the doormen giving her a look. She reached K Street and turned left abruptly, her heels skidding a little on the concrete sidewalk.
Fletcher and Hart were waiting, engine idling. She scrambled into the backseat of the unmarked and said, “Go. Someone’s following me.”
They didn’t move, just slid their weapons from their holsters and started checking the mirrors.
“Lay down,” Fletcher told her.
“Shit,” Sam said, sliding down in the backseat. “Do you see anything?”
“No one that looks suspicious. Hart, you got anything?”
Hart shook his head. “No. Nothing unusual. Just some folks out enjoying the night air. You sure you were followed?”
Sam thought about that shadow, growing closer, felt the chill move through her body again, and crouched lower in the seat.
“It certainly felt that way. When I sped up, so did he. The silhouette was big, definitely a man. That’s all I saw, though, before I took off. I’m afraid I may have panicked a bit.”
Fletcher reached over the seat and patted her arm.
“That’s all right. We knew the risk we were taking sending you in to talk to Taranto instead of one of us. Didn’t think you’d be followed, though. That makes it kind of interesting, don’t you think?”
Hart said, “Check your six.”
Sam saw the shadow from Fletcher’s head move slightly. She realized she was holding her breath.
“Big guy, moving north?”
“Yeah.”
“Nope. He just met some chick coming up from the Metro. They’re heading out arm in arm.”
Fletcher looked over the seat at Sam, who was still crouched down out of sight, and smiled.
She shot him the bird and he laughed, a sound she was surprised to hear was incredibly joyous. She didn’t see that they were in a position to celebrate, not just yet.
“Let’s loop back down to the restaurant, though I’m sure Taranto managed to get himself out of there just fine. You certainly had him on edge. I may have to hire you as a full-time stool pigeon.Scotch.” Fletcher steered the car away from the curb, doing a wide U-turn. Sam felt her breath begin to ease.
“Can I sit up?”
“Give it a ten count, so we’re clear of the park, then yeah. Go for it. You can get that mike off, too.”
Sam waited a few moments, then raised herself off the seats and smoothed back her hair. She felt foolish for panicking. The footsteps and shadow were most likely just another reveler cutting through the park on his way to the Metro stop.
There was a reason she worked with the dead, under the cold gleam of fluorescent lights, a sharpened scalpel and a set of Henckels knives her only weapons. Wait until she told Taylor this story. Her best friend would laugh her out of the room.
Fletcher glanced back at her. “So Taranto gave you something, outside of the golden nuggets we heard? Great job getting him to fall for that, by the way. You really did well.”
Sam shook the folder. “Thank you.”
“Welcome. And careful, be sure you turn the mike off before you untape it. Don’t break it. They’ll have my head.”
She untaped the transmitter and battery pack from the small of her back, and the mike from between her breasts. The transmitter wasn’t bigger than a deck of cards. Very discreet.
That was a close one. She imagined the audio would have a clear recording of her heartbeat going absolutely wild at the beginning there, when she played dumb. She finished and got her shirt wrestled back down, caught Fletcher eyeing her in the rearview.
“Enjoy the show?”
“I did.”
