It was incredible, but that was how it always went when luck went bad. The smallest thing that could go wrong to screw up things always went wrong at exactly the wrong instant. That bark, just as she was set to strike, had ruined the deletion. A second earlier, and she'd have been a smiling old lady hobbling along behind the target. A second later, and the target would have been out cold on the floor, waiting for the final stroke — game, tip over your king.
If the dog hadn't barked. If the target hadn't had a taser in his pocket. If that chair hadn't gotten in her way—
If, if, if.
Damn!
So now they had the dog, her cane, and unless they were all a whole lot stupider than was likely, they knew that Alexander Michaels was targeted by an assassin. They'd find the place she'd rented in the neighborhood quick enough, though there was nothing in it to tie her real identity to it. They'd know she'd been stalking him. She didn't think there was much they could use from what they had, but one thing for sure:
Getting to the target was going to be a whole lot harder now.
That brought a smile, despite her anger. Oh, yes, she was still going to delete the target, no question of that. The obstacles would be bigger, the risks riskier, but she didn't take a contract and not deliver. Never.
Well. She'd wanted a challenge. She sure as hell had one now.
Alex was trying to pretend it was no big deal, but Toni knew better. He was rattled. He looked calm as he stood there, dressed in tan slacks and a T-shirt, with no shoes, holding the toy poodle that had been part of the would-be assassin's cover. He petted the dog absently as the cops metaphorically tipped their hats and left. They'd kept the local cops from lighting up the place with their flashers, but even so, there was a lot of activity around Alex's condo for this time of night. Neighbors peeped through windows or stood on door stoops, trying to puzzle out what was going on.
Toni was relieved that Alex was all right, that the assassination attempt had failed. And she was also gratified that he had called her first, before he'd called anybody else. That meant something.
Toni had lost no time in co-opting this investigation. It belonged to Net Force, part of the Steve Day case. The local cops had been called in only to provide a net to catch the woman, and it was probably too late for that. The woman wasn't going to be hiding under a bush a block away or anything. If it was a woman. Maybe it was a small man under the disguise?
"Alex?"
"Hmm?"
"We'll need the dog."
He looked down at the poodle, then back at her. "The dog? Why?"
"We'll want to run a scanner over him, see if there is an ID chip implant or anything."
"No, I think he'll stay with me. Have somebody from the lab come by, they can check him here."
"Alex, he's evidence."
"No, he is what kept me from going to fill a hole next to Steve Day's." He looked at the dog and scratched behind one of its ears. "He's a good boy, aren't you, Scout?"
Toni nodded. Anybody who didn't know him would think Alex was used to assassins coming into his house, no sweat, and isn't it a nice night? But she knew him. Maybe better than he knew himself. "I guess we can work on this for a while." She held up the cane, wrapped in no-smear plastic sheeting.
"She wore gloves," Alex said. "White, silk or cotton, probably. I bet it was wiped clean after she put them on. The gloves."
"Won't hurt to look," Toni said.
He shrugged.
The last of the D.C. police were gone, but there were four of Net Force's agents still there. A man on each entrance to the house, one in a car across the street, one standing by the sliding glass door. They'd stay with Alex until they got this sorted out.
Toni felt a surge of anger she had to hold on to. Whoever this person was, she — or he — was going to be sorry if Toni got to them before anybody else did.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. It was just such a surprise, seeing this nice little old lady from my neighborhood ready to knock my head over the left-field wall."
"I bet."
"I've seen her around for at least a week."
"So did the agents on your door during the protocol watch. This wasn't some spur-of-the-moment thing. You were being stalked."
He shook his head. "Because I sit in Steve Day's chair. This woman probably had something to do with that."
"Yeah, that thought had crossed my mind."
"Well. Take that stick into the lab."
"I can stay around if you want."
"No, go back to work. I'm all right."
She left, reluctantly, and the image of Alex standing there petting the little dog stayed with her as she drove back toward HQ.
Johnny the Shark stood in front of Ray Genaloni's desk with a sheet of paper in one hand.
"Okay, what?"
"This just came from our guy in the D.C. cop shop," Johnny said. "I thought you'd like to see it first thing."
Genaloni took the paper, put on his reading glasses and looked at it.
Before he got six words into it, Johnny said, "Seems some woman tried to kill the Commander of Net Force."
Genaloni looked up from the paper, over the top of the reading glasses. "Tried? Tried to?" Then it sank in, the rest of it. "A woman? You saying the Selkie is a fucking woman?"
Johnny held both hands up in an I-dunno gesture. "This is what our guy in D.C. sent."
Genaloni read the paper. It was a copy of an incident report, and it was lean, not much to it. And it didn't look as if the cops were gonna stay on it, either; the feds had kicked them out.
Genaloni shook his head. A woman. He couldn't believe it. He'd talked to the Selkie on the phone three, four times, had never had a clue — she'd sounded like a man. A woman. That bothered him more than that she'd tried the hit and missed. And that bothered him more than a little. What if they caught her? What if she kept some kind of records, linking him to her?
He'd worried about this before, of course, but not really. The Selkie had always delivered. There was a lot of money to be made and it wouldn't serve him — no, her—to rat him out. But now? This was bad. Especially if she was a woman. You couldn't trust women with your ass.
"We got some computer geeks on the payroll, right?"
"Some of the best."
"Put ‘em to work. I want them to run down the Selkie. Find her — if it really is a her."
"And after we find her?"
"Nothing. Just find her. I'll decide what I want to do once you get that part done."
Johnny nodded and left. Genaloni looked at the fax sheet. This whole thing with Luigi and the feds was a fuckup. He didn't like any of it, and it was getting worse. Maybe it was time to cut his losses and tighten up. Find Luigi and put him away, in case he'd said anything he shouldn't have. Find the Selkie, put her away. Take care of the guy she'd tried to kill himself, no loose ends anywhere.
Jesus. He didn't need this kind of crap. The damned road to legitimacy was going to be knee-deep in blood, the way it was looking right now.
Jesus.
Jay Gridley downshifted from fourth to third, enjoying the Viper's muscular rumble as it slowed for the off-ramp to the right. He pulled to a stop at the light, waited for a couple of trucks to go by, then turned right onto the surface street.
Welcome to New Orleans. Laissez les bons temps rouler—let the good times roll…
He'd heard a rumor he had to check out, that there was some kind of rascal going down, a chunk of money being rerouted, and the fingerprints on the deal were invisible. Might be the guy he was looking for.