Blind Alley - Iris Johansen [17]
He stopped short in the marble foyer as the realization sank home.
Perhaps not so lucky.
They were both smart and very, very perceptive. He had the experience to recognize those qualities and he'd seldom met anyone who'd filled him with more wariness.
And that experience was sending out vibrations that were triggering every instinct he possessed. He reached for his phone and dialed Bartlett. “I'm in Atlanta. Are you at the flat?”
“Yes.”
“Get out of there. You may have company.” He glanced around the lobby and then headed for the restaurant. There was almost always a street entrance to a hotel restaurant. “I blew it.”
“I can't believe it.” Bartlett chuckled. “All that slickness and you were knocked for six? I would have liked to have been there to see it.”
“I'm sure you would,” he said dryly. Yes, there was a street door at the back of the restaurant. He headed straight for it. “And I'd deserve to have you give me a hard time. Jesus, I was stupid. I behaved like a stinking amateur. I never expected to have that reaction.”
Bartlett was silent a moment. “Jane MacGuire?”
“I'd been waiting too long. I got panicky even before she walked in the room.”
“Panic? I've never seen you panic in any situation, you icy son of a bitch.”
“Well, you would have seen it today. I was scared to death she'd be lost before I even got a chance at her. And then I saw her and I tried to mend my fences but it was too late.”
“Is it her?”
“God, yes. She took my breath away. Even Aldo would be satisfied.” He opened the street door and hailed a cab. “But you were right about Quinn and Eve Duncan. It's only a matter of time before they start asking the same questions I would.” He settled in the cab. “I'll call you back later. Don't leave anything there. Clean as a whistle.”
“You may have behaved like an ass, but I won't, and I value my efficiency. I'll do my job.” He hung up.
As he should have done his, Trevor thought in disgust as the cab pulled away from the curb. But who the hell would have expected him to fall apart like that? “Hartsfield Airport,” he told the driver.
He should have expected it. It had been too long and every day had seemed a century. He'd thought he was prepared but evidently you couldn't prepare yourself for something like this.
So pick up the pieces and start again.
No, not again. His clumsiness had only caused him to take a step back. Because Jane MacGuire was here, only minutes away. He'd seen her, touched her. He was ahead of the game.
He was ahead of Aldo.
So far.
FOUR
I'm sorry, Detective Quinn.” The desk clerk glanced up from the computer. “Mr. Trevor hasn't checked in yet.”
“Look again,” Joe said impatiently. “I know he's here. I dropped him off fifteen minutes ago.”
The clerk did another search and then shook her head. “I'm sorry,” she said again. “Maybe he stopped off in the bar. Or perhaps he was hungry and went to the restaurant.”
Or perhaps he'd flown the coop, Joe thought as he turned away and headed for the bar. He was going to find out in a hurry even if he had to question every employee in both places.
He went through the restaurant and hopped into a taxi,” Joe told Eve twenty minutes later. “I've called the taxi company and a cab dropped off a man of his description at the airport ten minutes ago. I'm on my way.”
“Can't you call and have him picked up by airport security?”
“Not without risking a lawsuit against the department or an international incident. No proof, Eve. As Trevor would say, pure theory.”
“I've heard enough of Trevor's theories,” Eve said. “Have you called the precinct?”
“I've asked Christy to do the work since she's the one who connected me with Trevor. I'll call you back when I know something.”
“Make it soon. I'll be waiting.”
You didn't get him,” Eve said as she saw Joe's face when he walked into the cottage three hours later. “How did he get away?”
“Well, he didn't get on a plane. I checked with all the taxi dispatchers and he didn't take a taxi from the airport.” Joe dropped down on the couch and wearily rubbed