Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [109]
In total disbelief, he lowered himself onto the sofa cushion.
The little bitch had outsmarted him.
She’d outsmarted him.
Who’da thought it. Dumb little Dolores. Dumb, dull little Dolores. Somehow she’d figured it all out.
Even as his anger grew, so did a perverse sort of admiration for her. She’d outsmarted him.
He went up the steps to get his things. With no time to waste, he shoved his clothes, his shaving things, his toothbrush into his travel bag.
For all he knew, she was at the police station right that minute. There was no way of knowing how much time he had before cars came screaming down the street.
“Dolores, Dolores, why’d you do this, baby?” He shook his head as he hurried to the back door. “You know when I catch up with you, I’m gonna have to kill you. . . .”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Sean stepped through the wide doors that opened into the small lobby of the Broeder Police Department and wondered for about the fiftieth time just what the builders had thought might someday be coming through that door that merited so large an opening into so small a room. Joyce was long gone, her place at the desk taken by the officer in charge that night. It was 9:35 P.M., what should have been the end of a long day, and he’d just dropped Amanda off at Greer’s and seen her safely inside. There were two black and whites there, one out front, one parked in the back by the garage, keeping an eye on things from the rear of the property. His brother-in-law, newly returned from his trip, had found the whole thing oddly exciting.
To each his own. Personally, Sean couldn’t wait till this whole thing was over and instead of playing bodyguard to Amanda Crosby, he could think about getting close to her in other ways. These days, it just never did seem to be the appropriate time or place to do much more than watch her back and focus on catching the son of a bitch who’d turned their lives upside down.
“Oh, Chief. I just tried to phone you,” Kevin Reilly, the duty officer, called to him. “You have a visitor. Said it’s really important that she speak with you right away.”
Sean closed his eyes. Honest to God, Ramona, I don’t have time for this. . . .
“Later. See if you can get Chief Benson over at the Carleton P.D. on the line.”
Sean leaned over the counter and took the phone when Reilly handed it to him.
“They’re giving you his voice mail,” Reilly told him. “They said he checks it every fifteen minutes or so at night.”
Sean waited for the prompt, then said, “Bob, Sean Mercer. I need you to pick up Dolores Hall, Connie Paschall’s partner in that hairdressing place. You need to talk to her about her boyfriend. Give me a call back on my cell and I’ll give you the details.”
Sean handed the phone back to Reilly, who looked up and said, “Chief, she’s here.”
“Who’s here?”
“Dolores Hall.”
“Jesus, Reilly, why didn’t you say so? Where is she?”
“The little room just across from your office.”
The conference room door stood open. Dolores Hall was seated in a chair facing the door, clutching a large gray cat in her arms.
They stared at each other for a moment, then Sean asked, “How are you feeling, Miss Hall?”
“Dolores. It’s Dolores.” Her voice was soft and shaky. “And I’m not feeling so good.”
“I know this week has been hard on you. Losing your partner . . .”
Her eyes welled up. “Connie was more than my business partner. She was my best friend. Maybe the best friend I ever had.”
“Funny you should stop in here today, Miss . . . Dolores. I just left a message for Chief Benson down there in Carleton to stop over and pay you a visit. I want to talk to you about Vince Giordano.”
“Who?”
“Vince Giordano. We know he’s been staying with you.”
“You mean Vinnie.” She frowned. “He said his name was Vinnie Daniels.”
“Close enough. Whatever he’s calling himself, it’s the same guy.”
He got up and went across the hall to his office and returned with a folder in his hands. He pulled out several pictures and handed the first one across the