Running shoes with a suit.
Which made for an easy escape.
A few twists and turns and abruptly the hat was gone. Common sense dictated that Bowler was heading for the exit. Poe raced toward a side door nearby. Stumbling through the labyrinth, he felt blindsided. A chance meeting twice? Not in this solar system. Someone was playing games with him.
Poe bolted out the double glass side doors, into a real alley—a small lane meant as a conduit for taxis. He slowed and looked around. The roadway was sandwiched between two massive buildings which created a wind tunnel.
Dark…narrow…hidden.
Here the breezes had turned to menacing gusts, kicking up soot and dust, moaning a death dirge.
Brushing hair from his eyes, Poe blinked rapidly as he surveyed his options. To the left were the lights of the Strip. On the right were more narrow strips of asphalt and a web of service roads. A few lone souls in the distance, moving like finger puppet shadows against the walls. No hats. In these winds, a hat would have blown off anyway. Most of the foot traffic was headed east toward the Strip. If someone wanted to escape and blend, east was the way to go.
But something told Poe to turn into the bowels of the buildings. The gray night air blackened as the winds blew faster. Poe tightened his jacket around his body. Checking over his shoulder, he walked steadily until boulevard traffic had receded to background noise. He could hear his shoes against the ground. He became aware of his breathing.
A shout!
Poe jerked his head around, his heart doing double-time. Where did it come from? The right? The left? Another blast and suddenly a cab was upon him, honking like a foghorn. Poe slammed his body against the building, cursed the reckless driver. The car motor receded, replaced by the howling winds. Scraps of paper and debris glided through the air like vampire bats. Warm winds. Ominous.
He walked deeper into the darkness.
Stopping at the sight of something. White…fluorescent in the moonlight. He bent down and picked up the item.
A running shoe. Men's size eight.
Someone with a small foot.
Another shout!
More of a shriek echoing through the air. Poe ran toward the sound's direction, to the mouth of the alley as it emptied into the Strip. People had gathered around a spot. Poe could hear high-pitched wails—ululations that spoke words.
Get away!
No!
Nooooo!
"Police! Move back!" Poe shoved his way through the hordes as the woman moaned. "Back!" he screamed. "Back! Police!"
The crowd reluctantly parted. As her face became visible, Poe almost dropped to his knees as if he'd been sucker-punched.
The top of Alison's dress had been ripped away, exposing her breasts. In a weak attempt at modesty, she was hiding her chest with thin, scratched arms. Her stockings had been torn, her feet were bare. Her hair was loose, and her face had been dirtied and scraped. She was kicking aimlessly, lashing out as people tried to approach her.
Poe knelt down beside her, and was immediately smacked in the face by a fist for his efforts. He took off his jacket, tried to cover her, but she pushed it off, kicking with rage as she bayed.
"It's me, Alison," Poe shouted. "It's Rom—"
She caught him in the stomach with her foot. He gasped and screamed, "Someone call an ambulance!"
"Noooo!" She began to flail furiously.
"Alison, look at me!" With his left hand, he managed to secure her hands. He took her chin in his right hand and turned her face to his. "Look at me, Alison—"
She howled as he spoke. It sent chills up his spine.
"Alison! Look at me!"
"What's going on?" someone shouted.
"I'm a cop—"
"Where's your ID, bud?"
As if he had a free set of hands to show the fucker his badge. But people were getting nervous. On the surface, it looked like he was manhandling her. Last thing he needed was a riot on his hands. "Alison, look—"
Abruptly, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her chest into his body. "Oh, Romulus!" She sobbed on his shoulder. "Someone pushed me! Hit me! I didn't do anything and he just pushed me down and started hitting and tearing at my dress. Oh God, it was awful!"
She wept bitterly. As she hung about his neck, Poe picked up his jacket and draped it over her nude shoulders. "Come on, baby! We've got to get you to a hospita—"
"Noooo!"
"Aliso—"
"Noooooooo!" She squeezed him harder, locking on his neck like a wrestler. "I can't, I can't, I can't—"
"Shhhhh." With a free hand, Poe liberated his badge, displayed it to the crowd. "Police! Break it up! Now!"
Another body kneeling next to his. A worried male voice. "My God, what happened?"
Poe looked over his shoulder. It was Y—out of breath and covered with a sweaty sheen. The old man had materialized from nothing. But Poe was too distracted to question him about his sudden appearance.
He said, "She was attacked. We need to get to a hospi—"
"Noooo!"
"Okay, okay," Poe soothed. He turned to the gawkers enjoying the show. Slowly, he stood up, Alison still hanging around his neck. His jacket fell off her back. "Pick that up," he ordered Y.
Y picked up the jacket and replaced it around Alison's shoulders. Gasping, the old man was still sweating hard. Poe hoped the old man wasn't contemplating a heart attack. Again, he flashed his badge. "Disperse now! Back away or you will be arrested!"
"That's talking tough," Y said.
Poe stabbed Y with murderous eyes. Alison continued to weep on his shoulder. Y clapped his hands several times. "Okay, folks. Party's over. Go home."
A pause.
"I said go home!" Y pointed to Poe. "Or he'll arrest you." He held up two fingers. "Scout's honor."
Slowly the lookie-loos began to break up, increasing their speed when they realized the freak show was over. After most of the people had gone, Poe spoke to Alison.
"Sweetheart, I've got to get you to a hospi—"
"Noooo!" Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth. "No, Rom. No, Rom. Please, please, no, no, no."
"Take her home," Y suggested.
"I've got to call Steve—"
"Noooo," Alison wailed. "Don't call Steve. I won't go home. I can't go home. Not like this. I can't…the kids…I can't see Steve—"
"Take her to your house," Y tried again.
"I can't do that," Poe retorted. "Baby, let me take you to this doctor friend of mine—"
"No!" She pushed him off and began to run down the taxi lane. Poe easily caught up with her, grabbed her to his chest. She hugged him and sobbed. "Please let me come with you. Please, I beg you, Romulus." Crying like a wounded puppy. "I beg you! Just this once. Please?"
Poe stalled. "Where were you attacked?"
Alison wiped her nose. "I was just walking…taking a shortcut. He just crept up on me."
Poe swallowed hard. "Did you see him?"
She shook her head. "He pushed me down. I fell on my face. For no reason, Rom! Then he…he began to rip off my clothes."
Again, the sobs. Poe said, "Alison, let me take you somewhere safe—"
"Take me to your house…just for a little bit. I swear I won't be a problem." A pause. "I'm begging you!"
Poe bit his lip. He looked down, saw the running shoe sticking out of his coat pocket. To Y, he said, "I'm parked at the Luxor. Get the car and take her to my place—"
"You're not coming?" Alison cried out.
"Baby, I have to look around—"
"Please don't leave me, Rom. Just this once, don't leave me."
Y said, "Call up one of your other detectives."
"Like it's that easy." Poe exhaled. "Y, get the car! We'll all drive to my place—"
"Thank you, Romulus!" Alison kissed him hard on the lips. "Thank you, thank you." She burst into tears.
"Where's your parking ticket?" Y asked.
With Alison hanging on, Poe couldn't reach his p
ocket. "In my pants pocket…in my wallet."
Y pulled out Poe's wallet, removed the parking ticket along with two twenties. He slipped the bills into his own pocket, ignoring Poe as he glowered.
Y said, "For chauffeuring money."
"Just get the damn car."
As Y jogged off, Poe tried to organize his thoughts. Alison was still clinging to him. He closed his jacket around her upper body, tying the sleeves around her neck. He said, "Just a few minutes and then we'll be off."
"To your house?"
"Just for a little while. I really have to look around. Try to find out something."
"Don't leave me, Rom."
"No, I won't. Don't worry."
It couldn't have been Bowler who hurt Alison. The timing doesn't fit. He couldn't have taken time out to attack a woman with me on his heels.
A pause.
Or maybe he did just that. Because Alison was one hell of an excellent distraction. Certainly took me off his ass.
Poe asked, "How long ago did the attack happen?"
"Maybe…" Alison sniffed. "Maybe ten minutes ago."
"How'd you get away from him?"
"I didn't. He suddenly stopped and ran away. Something must have scared him off." A beat. "Thank God it did."
He felt his eyes water. "I'm so sorry, Alison."
"It doesn't matter," she bleated out. "It's over. That's all that matters."
But he knew all of it mattered. He said, "We'll get you home soon—"
"Don't send me home!"
"I meant to my house." Poe bounced on his feet. "You can rest there."
"Thank you." Alison embraced him with force, whispering in his ear. "Don't leave me, Rom. Don't ever leave me."
TWENTY-FIVE
ALISON HAD drifted into sleep within minutes. She had curled in a fetal position in the backseat of Poe's Honda, sleeping with her mouth slightly agape, eyes moving rapidly as she dreamed. Clearing a lump from his throat, Poe picked up his cellular and called Jensen's house. The answering machine picked up after three rings. Poe hung up and moved on to Steve's pager, but it, too, rang and rang. Thinking he had dialed wrong, he tried the beeper number again.
Again, it tolled continuously.
Poe disconnected the line. Strange. Steve didn't always answer his pages, but he always left his beeper on. Poe had always been able to leave a message. Again he phoned the house. This time he left word.
"It's Rom. Page me as soon as you get this. It's important." He clicked off and continued to drive along a lonely stretch of road. To Y, he said, "Steve's not home."
"That's not unusual."
"His pager isn't working. That is unusual."
"Maybe he didn't want to be interrupted."
Poe shook his head. "Something's going down. I don't like it." He paused. "I can't keep Alison at my place without her husband knowing. It doesn't look good."
Y said, "I'll vouch for you."
"No offense, old man, but that won't cut it. I'm dropping both of you off. I have to find Steve."
"What do I tell Alison when she wakes up? That you lied to her?"
Poe drummed the steering wheel. "Okay. You take the car and find Steve."
"What do I say if I find him?"
The car turned silent.
What the hell should he say?
Poe said, "Tell him I found Alison on the Strip and she seemed unsteady. When I couldn't locate him, I took her home to keep an eye on her. Tell him to contact me ASAP."
No one spoke.
Poe said, "Unless you want to tell him the truth."
"Me? Are you kidding?"
"So tell him what I told you."
"Okay, Romulus. I'm not arguing with you."
Poe drove the next few minutes in silence, a thought pricking his brain. "How'd you happen to come on us? Just walking by?"
Y kept his face flat. "Just walking by."
"Bit of a coincidence."
"Just like you being there when she was attacked."
Poe raised his brows. "Guess so."
But something was bothering him. The first time he had chased and lost Bowler, he had also bumped into Y. Poe reached into his jacket, fished out the running shoe. A small size. Y's feet were small….
What on earth was he thinking? He'd known Chief all his life. He was tired. He was upset. Still…
He picked up the phone and dialed Patricia's number. A human voice actually answered.
"It's me."
"What's up, Sarge?"
She sounded sleepy. Poe wondered if she was alone. "Do you happen to know where Steve is?"
"Haven't the foggiest notion." A beat. "Why?" A yawn. "Did something go down?"
"His wife was mugged or attacked—"
"What? Alison?"
"Yes, Alison. By coincidence, I happened to be there. I don't think she was sexually assaulted, but I don't know for certain. She said she was pushed down. Then something scared off her attacker. She's scratched up, but she refused to go to the hospital or to her home. I can't find Jensen. Which is why I'm taking her to my place."
"I'll go look for him right now."
"First, I've got another assignment for you. Go back to the scene and see if the perp left anything behind." He gave her the precise location. "Check up and down the entire alley. And bring along help. It's dark and I don't want you nosing alone."
"I'll call up Marine Martin."
Poe waited a beat. "Patricia, I found a running shoe."
"A running shoe? Like an athletic shoe?"
"Exactly." He described it and gave her the size. "See if you can find its mate. And also…" He winced. "You might want to look for a bowler hat."
"A bowler!" A beat. "As in the hatted man in Nate's composite?"
"Possibly." Poe filled her in with the details. "It's unlikely that Bowler attacked Alison. He wasn't out of my sight more than five minutes before I heard the screams. If Hat did attack her, he worked at mach speed."
"Five minutes is long enough. It could have been him."
"True, but I'd like a better candidate. Go over there and let me know what you find."
Patricia said, "I'm leaving now."
"Page me when you get there. We'll maintain phone contact."
"Will do." She cut the line.
Poe glanced back at Alison. She was breathing deeply and unhurriedly. To Y, he said, "You know, I was actually looking for you tonight."
"Why?"
"What do you know about Linda Hennick's death?"
Y's face was stoic. "People hear things in their sleep."
"It's important."
"Not now it isn't."
Again, Poe drummed against the wheel. Antsy with a few minutes left to go, he tried Jensen's number once again. Hearing the machine kick in, Poe disconnected. Without thinking, he dialed Rukmani's number, realizing he just wanted to hear her voice. To his surprise, he got her machine.
"Ruki, it's me. Can you pick up? Ruki?"
Silence.
"Ruki, are you there? Guess not. I'll call your office."
He called her office. Three rings and her voice mail picked up. Rukmani didn't have lots of girlfriends. More likely than not, her companion was a male.
Her big get-even for his ill-fated encounter with Honey two weeks ago. Both of them as faithful as dogs in heat. Why bother with marriage…asking him to get down on his knees to propose? What the hell was that all about?
Y said, "As long as I got your car, should I look for Rukmani, too?"
"Not necessary," Poe answered too quickly.
"If I find her, I'll tell her to call you."
"No," Poe blurted out. "I've got Patricia hunting around the crime scene. Don't want to tie up the line for personal reasons. But thanks anyway."
"Sure."
Poe tried to appear casual, knowing Y could see right through him. He depressed the accelerator, speeding up the dirt road that led to the western foothills. Five minutes later, he parked the car in front of his clay pod. "Could you wait with
her while I go make up the bed?"
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