He didn’t sound as alert as usual, but it wasn’t bad enough for her to remark on it. “I’m thinking it’s not the wife who’s going to get it, if you know what I mean.”
There wasn’t a security stop, so the team easily caught up to Crockett just as he was getting out of his car and heading toward a condo. Beyond the modest wooden gate, on the door, a golden kitty spread its paws, spelling out “Welcome” with childlike letter blocks.
As Breisi cruised past, Dawn slid on a pair of oversized sunglasses that her coworker had brought for her.
Veering around the corner and coming to a stop, Breisi kept the engine running.
“Go,” she said.
Dawn and Kiko wasted no time, leaving the SUV calmly enough not to scare off Crockett yet quickly enough to make sure he didn’t get away. Kiko circled around so he would be approaching the lawyer from the back. He stumbled once, and Dawn’s adrenaline ratcheted up a notch.
But she didn’t have an opportunity to worry about him.
“Excuse me, sir?” she said.
Hand raised to open the wooden gate, the lawyer turned around, just as Kiko came into view behind him, advancing on quiet feet.
Milton Crockett ran a gaze over Dawn, seeming to appreciate her bared legs most of all. He was shorter than he looked on TV, but he was still imposing, with his smooth suit and intellectual glasses. Even garbed in layers of silk, he seemed as cool as autumn. His expression was politely inquisitive, well suited to greet a female stranger who was dressed for a lovely lunch.
Good. At least this asinine dress hid her real identity, one he’d probably be familiar with if he actually was a Servant.
Dawn rushed to speak, gesturing behind her just to divert Crockett from the advancing Kiko for one more second. “I’m sorry to bother you, but is that building nineteen over there?” She smiled winningly—or the closest she could come to it.
Acting!
Crockett followed her pointing finger, and that was all the distraction they needed. From behind, Kiko grabbed the man’s hand, immediately closing his eyes in concentration.
Startled, the lawyer jumped back, just as Breisi joined them. In spite of Crockett’s movement, Kiko still had a firm hold, his whole body clenched as he got a reading.
“Robby Pennybaker,” Breisi said.
She was using a phrase that would hopefully force Crockett’s mind where Kiko—and The Voice—needed it. On the Underground, not necessarily the murder. They weren’t giving anything away by saying Robby’s name, either, since it’d been public knowledge that they were investigating him.
Gasping in obvious shock, the lawyer raised his other hand to cuff Kiko away, but Dawn whipped off her glasses and sprang to her friend’s defense, bolting Crockett against the gate. Sucking in a breath—of pain, terror?—Kiko backed away, out of Dawn’s line of sight.
“Don’t you touch him!” she grated.
Crockett’s nostrils flared at her garlic scent, but he wasn’t repelled, and she could look into his eyes without consequence, proving he wasn’t a vamp. But, this close up, she could see some kind of recognition burst open in his pupils, expanding the darkness over the light brown of his irises.
He knows who I am, she thought.
Yet he covered that really well, his expression hardening into a mask of outraged cluelessness in the next instant.
“Who are you? I’ll have you arrested—”
“Let’s go!” Breisi yelled.
Taking stock of her position, Dawn noticed Kiko wasn’t around; he must’ve gone to Breisi already. So she pushed away.
Then, on second thought, she straightened Crockett’s fine collar, his tie, and looked into his eyes the entire time.
God help him if he was a part of the vamp nation, because if they had Frank…
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” she said.
Letting go of Crockett, she held up her hands in mocking defiance, then walked backward as the growl of the SUV hit the air. Behind the outraged lawyer, the condo door began to
There wasn’t a security stop, so the team easily caught up to Crockett just as he was getting out of his car and heading toward a condo. Beyond the modest wooden gate, on the door, a golden kitty spread its paws, spelling out “Welcome” with childlike letter blocks.
As Breisi cruised past, Dawn slid on a pair of oversized sunglasses that her coworker had brought for her.
Veering around the corner and coming to a stop, Breisi kept the engine running.
“Go,” she said.
Dawn and Kiko wasted no time, leaving the SUV calmly enough not to scare off Crockett yet quickly enough to make sure he didn’t get away. Kiko circled around so he would be approaching the lawyer from the back. He stumbled once, and Dawn’s adrenaline ratcheted up a notch.
But she didn’t have an opportunity to worry about him.
“Excuse me, sir?” she said.
Hand raised to open the wooden gate, the lawyer turned around, just as Kiko came into view behind him, advancing on quiet feet.
Milton Crockett ran a gaze over Dawn, seeming to appreciate her bared legs most of all. He was shorter than he looked on TV, but he was still imposing, with his smooth suit and intellectual glasses. Even garbed in layers of silk, he seemed as cool as autumn. His expression was politely inquisitive, well suited to greet a female stranger who was dressed for a lovely lunch.
Good. At least this asinine dress hid her real identity, one he’d probably be familiar with if he actually was a Servant.
Dawn rushed to speak, gesturing behind her just to divert Crockett from the advancing Kiko for one more second. “I’m sorry to bother you, but is that building nineteen over there?” She smiled winningly—or the closest she could come to it.
Acting!
Crockett followed her pointing finger, and that was all the distraction they needed. From behind, Kiko grabbed the man’s hand, immediately closing his eyes in concentration.
Startled, the lawyer jumped back, just as Breisi joined them. In spite of Crockett’s movement, Kiko still had a firm hold, his whole body clenched as he got a reading.
“Robby Pennybaker,” Breisi said.
She was using a phrase that would hopefully force Crockett’s mind where Kiko—and The Voice—needed it. On the Underground, not necessarily the murder. They weren’t giving anything away by saying Robby’s name, either, since it’d been public knowledge that they were investigating him.
Gasping in obvious shock, the lawyer raised his other hand to cuff Kiko away, but Dawn whipped off her glasses and sprang to her friend’s defense, bolting Crockett against the gate. Sucking in a breath—of pain, terror?—Kiko backed away, out of Dawn’s line of sight.
“Don’t you touch him!” she grated.
Crockett’s nostrils flared at her garlic scent, but he wasn’t repelled, and she could look into his eyes without consequence, proving he wasn’t a vamp. But, this close up, she could see some kind of recognition burst open in his pupils, expanding the darkness over the light brown of his irises.
He knows who I am, she thought.
Yet he covered that really well, his expression hardening into a mask of outraged cluelessness in the next instant.
“Who are you? I’ll have you arrested—”
“Let’s go!” Breisi yelled.
Taking stock of her position, Dawn noticed Kiko wasn’t around; he must’ve gone to Breisi already. So she pushed away.
Then, on second thought, she straightened Crockett’s fine collar, his tie, and looked into his eyes the entire time.
God help him if he was a part of the vamp nation, because if they had Frank…
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” she said.
Letting go of Crockett, she held up her hands in mocking defiance, then walked backward as the growl of the SUV hit the air. Behind the outraged lawyer, the condo door began to
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