Vanishing Point - Marc Cerasini [33]
"She can do that?"
The pause seemed overlong this time. "She can, especially with Ryan Chappelle making the same noise. Unless we show some progress, we could be shut down tomorrow."
Jack chose not to hide his impatience. "We've made progress. I'll put you through to Morris again. He'll update you."
Before his boss could reply, Jack put Henderson on hold and punched up Morris.
"I heard, Jack. And I might say that from up here, you don't look particularly happy."
"Morris, I want you to brief Henderson about the technology we seized today."
"Will do. Should I mention our corpse down in the basement?"
"Say nothing for now. If Henderson asks, tell him I'm still interrogating the suspect. I need to find out who killed Max Farrow before I can reveal his death."
O'Brian paused. "Gambling again, Jack?"
"Morris. Don't second guess me. Just do your job."
"Right-O, chief. I'll..."
Jack hung up, slipped the cell into his pocket. He felt an impotent rage welling up inside of him. He already knew this operation was running on borrowed time, but Jack was hoping that today's discovery of stolen technology would breathe new life into the investigation. The death of Max Farrow had thrown more than a crimp into his plans. Ironically the man's capture had been their first break, but Farrow's death — once revealed — might end the operation immediately. Before Henderson's call, Jack felt he still had a little time to maneuver. Now, with the entrance of Alberta Green into the equation, his window of opportunity had been reduced from days to hours.
A hand on his shoulder broke Jack's concentration. "Hey, Jaycee. Have you seen —?"
"What?" Jack snapped.
Lilly Sheridan took two steps backwards. "Jesus, I'm sorry I bothered you."
The woman turned away. Jack grabbed her arm.
"Whoa, Lilly. Don't go. I'm sorry I took your head off."
Lilly pulled back. "Don't, Jaycee..." Her eyes were locked on his fingers. Jack released her arm.
"Look, I didn't mean anything," Jack told her. "I'm having a rough day, that's all. You're looking for Stella, right?"
She hugged herself, nodding. "I'm supposed to give her a ride somewhere before I go to work."
Jack nodded. "Yeah, over to Hugo's garage."
The woman frowned. "I didn't want to say."
"Yeah, well..." Jack grunted, in character.
Lilly shrugged. "Look, I don't know what's what... Who knows what game Stella's playing."
"No game, so she says. Just a repair job," Jack replied.
He watched Lilly's expression, saw the skepticism there. He wondered if Lilly was lying. If she really did know something he didn't. Was Stella still working for Hugo Bix?
"Let's go to my table at the Tiki," Jack offered. "Stella's using the shower. She'll be down in a minute."
"I don't know, Jaycee. I have my daughter here."
"Here?" Jack said, genuinely surprised.
A girl Jack guessed was about ten years old stepped around an idle bank of slots. She met his gaze, regarding Jaycee Jager with a mixture of wariness and unconcealed interest.
"This is Pamela," Lilly said, pulling the child close.
Jack blinked. Though Pamela Sheridan was a few years younger than his own daughter, he was suddenly reminded of Kim. Jack wondered what she was doing right now. Was Kim in school, or in rehearsal for the class play — she'd won a prized role, he remembered. With a jolt he also recalled that Kim's show was staged last week, and he'd missed her performance. The realization was so hurtful that Jack immediately pushed it aside. With an effort, he smiled down at the girl, shook her tiny hand. "Hello, Pamela," he said.
Jack's flaring emotions reined, his professional instincts reasserted themselves. He noted that the resemblance between mother and daughter was obvious. Both had wide, expressive blue eyes and high cheekbones. Lilly's blond hair was a shade darker than her daughter's and cut so short it curled around her ears. While Lilly was tall and willowy, her child was skinny, all arms and legs and a neck like a gazelle's.
"Let's go to the Tiki," Jack coaxed. "The joint's deserted this