Page 52 of Nothing Left

And then, she was running up, running after him into the darkness of the rooftop, with her hand moving down to touch the gun on her hip. But she knew that no gun could help her now if it came to a life-and-death struggle on the edge of a flat roof eight stories up.

It was familiar territory to him but not to her.

She'd be fighting him on his home turf, and she had no idea whether the route he'd chosen was an escape route or a trap.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Sirens blared from the street below as Juliette ran up the last two flights of the fire escape, her shoes clanging on the metal treads, twisting and turning her way up the narrow stairs.

At the top was a killer, Mateo Lopez. But she had no idea what he was planning. A picture in her mind surfaced of Lopez using a drainpipe to take a back route down, sneaking away from the building by another route that would be harder to track by car. And with the darkness, and the warren of streets below, and the fact that only one police car had arrived on the scene so far, the thought of him escaping was not an impossibility.

Pushing herself harder, Juliette raced up the final flight of stairs.

They didn't go as far as the roof. The fire escape took her as far as a closed door on the very top landing. Had he gone through this steel door?

She wrenched at the handle. It was firmly locked. Had he opened it and locked it behind him? Her eyes now adjusting to the darkness, Juliette saw that there was a latch at the bottom of the door, with a padlock that was locked from the outside. This must be a service or utility room, but it was clear that he hadn't gone through this door, and that meant he had gone higher, up on the roof.

Her stomach clenched. Heights were not her favorite thing. Her experience in a recent case, where she'd been overpowered and attached to a flimsy set of helium balloons to soar over the streets of Naples, hadn't gone any way toward helping that fear. In fact, Juliette admitted, heights were now the one thing she really didn't want to have to face. Her stomach curdled at the thought of getting onto that roof, and she wished that Wyatt had been the one to come up here.

Then she shook her head. She knew the rule. Never even wish that another agent should have to handle danger that you find terrifying yourself. Agents were trained and capable and should use their skills and bravery to handle whatever came their way. That was what Ebury had always reinforced to his team.

This was her task to shoulder. Now, how to get up to the roof?

Trying not to think that Mateo might be waiting, crouched on the roof, ready to shove her off it so that she plummeted all eight stories down, Juliette considered her strategy.

If she stood on the edge of the railing, she could get her hands onto the concrete edging of the roof. It was a precarious maneuver because if she slipped, she might not land back on the fire escape. She might overbalance and fall, down, down...

Her head spun at the thought, but before she could let that idea consume her mind, Juliette clambered up onto the railing, placing her feet carefully on the steel. She grasped the concrete edge. She couldn't see over it. I couldn't see if he was waiting to push her off it. She had to go up regardless.

With a gasp, summoning her strength, she pushed her legs off the rail, pulled up with her arms, and scrambled onto that ledge as fast as she could.

The concrete was slippery, and she almost lost her grasp at the crucial time, her fingers sliding off, losing purchase, her heart jumping into her mouth. But she got her leg over the rim and then rolled onto the roof, trembling all over with reaction.

No time to recover. Now, it was time to spot the killer. She scrambled to her feet, the wind tugging at her hair. Where was he? She gazed around the rooftop. It was a flat, open space with the rim of concrete all around and a medley of pipes and drainage channels crisscrossing the center.

What was that? She saw something at the far end, unclear in the darkness. Then, it moved, and she saw clearly. It was Mateo, and he was doing exactly what she'd expected. He was going to climb over the rim on the opposite side and shimmy down - something. A drainpipe, a balcony rail, she had no idea, but her palms were sweating and cold as she made her way across the roof, negotiating the criss-crossed obstacle course of pipes and trenches that made it impossible to run.

"Mateo Lopez!" she shouted. "FBI! Stop. Hands in the air!"

If only, she thought. If only it would be so easy.

She was prepared for a dangerous and precarious chase down the building, summoning all her courage as she raced over. But she was totally unprepared for what he did next.

Mateo stood, staring at her for one long moment. And then, leaping up onto the concrete rim, he turned. The zigzag scar on his arm was discernible in the gloom as he began sprinting along the ledge.

She had never seen anyone move like that, with such ease and grace, along such a narrow edge. She could see the muscles in Mateo's legs working, the way his arms moved in perfect synchronicity with his strides. He was like a machine, a perfect, unstoppable machine, moving way too fast and too far away for her to get a clear shot.

In that case, she had to follow whatever it took. There was no way to run in the center with all those pipes. It was impossible, and that was why he was using the ledge.

Juliette stepped up onto the ledge, terror rising in her throat, knowing that one misstep would take her off this narrow ledge, barely a foot wide, and send her somersaulting out and over and down.

The wind buffeted at her, threatening to throw her off balance, and she felt dizzy as she set off, not daring to run, but jogging along, keeping pace as best she could.She could see the muscles in Mateo's legs working, the way his arms moved in perfect synchronicity with his strides.

"Stop!" she yelled, wishing once more that she could draw her gun and try to shoot, but it was too dark and he had too much of a lead on her. He was almost at the corner of the building now. What was he doing?

The answer was shockingly evident as, without even slowing his pace, Mateo ran to the edge of the building, sprang, and soared out into the blackness.

Juliette gasped in horror, her stomach twisting as she rushed to the edge.

---