Countdown - Iris Johansen [18]
“Done. Anything else?”
“Tell him not to make it easy on him.” Her voice was shaking. “He may not have pulled that trigger, but he was guilty as sin. I don’t want to see him walk.”
“I’m surprised you got him to talk.”
“So am I. But he was already scared and I used it. I’m on my way to his dorm to get the envelope with the last payment Leonard gave him. It just occurred to me that he might decide to double back and pick it up to use the money for his defense.”
“Let the police do it. There might be prints.”
“I’ll be careful. But there are too many restrictions on the police. It might take too long to get a writ to search his room, and there’s no way I’ll let him get his hands on that money. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, Joe.” She hung up before he could argue with her.
She pulled away from the curb, made a U-turn, and started back toward the dorm.
Bitch. Whore.
Paul Donnell was seething with fury as he hurried down the street.
He’d always had a distaste for bossy women, and Jane MacGuire was a prime example of everything he hated. It was too bad Leonard hadn’t taken care of her in that alley.
Get rid of the anger. When he talked to the police, he had to appear heartbroken but straightforward and blame only himself. He could handle this. He could be very persuasive and he had to marshal all his talents. He’d call his father to get a lawyer to meet him at the police station. He’d read too many times of convictions that were caused by those first interviews with the police. He’d be respectful but tell those flatfeet that he’d been advised to get an attorney.
Yes, that was the strategy. But lawyers cost money and he wasn’t about to rely on a public defender. He’d have the best, and that would take—
Headlights.
He glanced behind him. No, it wasn’t the bitch coming after him. This was a bigger car, the beams of the headlights spearing the darkness of the quiet residential street. He glanced away and quickened his pace. He’d better move fast and get to that police station in case the bitch decided to break her word and pay them a visit before he could get in his innings. He wouldn’t put it past her to—
Light. All around him. A motor gunned, roaring.
What the hell was—
Jane parked in front of the dorm and jumped out of the car.
It shouldn’t be too difficult to get into Paul’s room, she thought as she moved quickly toward the steps. She’d visited Mike numerous times, and if security questioned her, she could tell them that she’d left something in the room and wanted to retrieve it. If that didn’t work, she’d play it by—
“Jane.”
She stiffened. No. She was imagining— It couldn’t be him.
She slowly turned around.
Trevor.
He was dressed in jeans and a dark green sweater and he looked the same as the day she’d left him at the airport four years ago.
He smiled. “It’s been a long time. Have you missed me?”
She was jarred out of her shock. Arrogant ass. “Not at all. What are you doing here?”
His smile faded. “Believe me, I’d have preferred to stay away from you. It wasn’t possible.”
“You’ve done a good job of it for the last four years.” She shouldn’t have said that. It sounded reproachful, and the last thing she wanted was for him to think she cared whether or not he’d forgotten her. “So have I. Water under the bridge.”
“I wish I could say the same.” His lips tightened. “We need to talk. My car is parked down the block. Come with me.”
She didn’t move. “I have something I have to do. Call me later.”
He shook his head. “Now.”
She started up the steps. “Go to hell.”
“You’ll find out more by coming with me than you will from that envelope in Donnell’s room.”
She stiffened and slowly turned to face him. “How did you know I was going after—”
“Come with me.” He started down the street. “I’ll have Bartlett keep an eye on the dorm to make sure Donnell doesn’t come back for the money.”
“Bartlett’s here?”