“We wanted you to take a look at these uniforms,” Sam said, gesturing to the long conference table. Laid out on the table were a half dozen uniform jackets of various colors. “We’ve got bellhops, an elevator operator, and an usher’s uniform from the downtown Cineplex. Do any of them strike you as familiar?”
Nina approached the table. Thoughtfully she eyed each one, examining the fabrics, the buttons. Some of them had embroidered hotel logos. Some were trimmed with gold braid or nametags.
She shook her head. “It wasn’t one of these.”
“What about that green one, on the end?”
“It has gold braid. The jacket I remember had black braid, sort of coiled up here, on the shoulder.”
“Geez,” murmured Gillis. “Women remember the weirdest things.”
“Okay,” Sam said with a sigh. “That’s it for this session. Thanks, everyone. Pressler, why don’t you take a break and get some supper. I’ll bring Miss Cormier back to her hotel. You can meet us there in an hour or so.”
The room emptied out. All except Sam and Nina.
For a moment, they didn’t speak to each other. They didn’t even look at each other. Nina almost wished that the earnest Officer Pressler was back with her again; at least he didn’t make her feel like turning tail and running.
“I hope your hotel room’s all right,” he finally said.
“It’s fine. But I’ll be going stir crazy in another day. I have to get out of there.”
“It’s not safe yet.”
“When will it be safe?”
“When we have Spectre.”
“That could be never.” She shook her head. “I can’t live this way. I have a job. I have a life. I can’t stay in a hotel room with some cop who drives me up a wall.”
Sam frowned. “What’s Pressler done?”
“He won’t sit still! He never stops checking the windows. He won’t let me touch the phone. And he can’t carry on a decent conversation.”
“Oh.” Sam’s frown evaporated. “That’s just Leon doing his job. He’s good.”
“Maybe he is. But he still drives me crazy.” Sighing, she took a step toward him. “Sam, I can’t stay cooped up. I have to get on with my life.”
“You will. But we have to get you through this part alive.”
“What if I left town? Went somewhere else for a while—”
“We might need you here, Nina.”
“You don’t. You have his prints. You know he’s missing a finger. You could identify him without any question—”
“But we need to spot him first. And for that, we might need you to pick him out of a crowd. So you have to stay in town. Available. We’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
“I suppose you’ll have to. If you want to catch your man.”
He took her by the shoulders. “That’s not the only reason, and you know it.”
“Do I?”
He leaned closer. For one astonishing moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Then a rap on the door made them both jerk apart.
Gillis, looking distinctly ill at ease, stood in the doorway. “Uh…I’m heading over to get a burger. You want I should get you something, Sam?”
“No. We’ll pick something up at her hotel.”
“Okay.” Gillis gave an apologetic wave. “I’ll be back here in an hour.” He departed, leaving Sam and Nina alone once again.
But the moment was gone forever. If he’d intended to kiss her, she saw no hint of it in his face.
He said, simply, “I’ll drive you back now.”
In Sam’s car, she felt as if they’d reverted right back to the very first day they’d met, to the time when he’d been the stone-faced detective and she’d been the bewildered citizen. It was as if all the events of the past week—their nights together, their lovemaking—had never happened. He seemed determined to avoid any talk of feelings tonight, and she was just as determined not to broach the subject.
The only safe topic was the case. And even on that topic, he was not very forthcoming.
“I notice you’ve circulated the police sketch,” she said.
“It’s been everywhere. TV, the papers.”
“Any response?”
“We’ve been inundated by calls. We’ve spent all day chasing them down. So far, nothing’s panned out.”
“I’m afraid my description wasn’t very helpful.”
“You did the best you could.”
She looked out the window, at the streets of downtown Portland. It was already eight o’clock, the summer dusk just slipping into night. “If I saw him again, I’d know him. I’m sure I would.”
“That’s all we need from you, Nina.”
All you want from me, too, she thought sadly. She asked, “What happens tomorrow?”
“More of the same. Chase down leads. Hope someone recognizes that sketch.”
“Do you know if Spectre’s even in the city?”
“No. He may be long gone. In which case we’re just spinning our wheels. But my instincts are telling me he’s still here somewhere. And he’s got something planned, something big.” He glanced at her. “You could be the wrench in the works. The one person who can recognize him. That’s why we have to keep you under wraps.”
“I can’t stand much more of this. I’m not even allowed to make a phone call.”
“We don’t want people to know your whereabouts.”
“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. It’s just that I feel so cut off from everyone.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “Who do you want to call?”
“I could start with my sister Wendy.”
“I thought you two didn’t get along.”
“We don’t. But she’s still my sister. And she can tell the rest of the family I’m okay.”
He thought it over for a moment, then said, “All right, go ahead and call her. You can use the car phone. But don’t—”
“I know, I know. Don’t tell her where I am.” She picked up the receiver and dialed Wendy’s number. She heard three rings, and then a woman’s voice answered—a voice she didn’t recognize.
“Hayward residence.”
“Hello, this is Nina. I’m Wendy’s sister. Is she there?”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. and Mrs. Hayward are out for the evening. I’m the baby-sitter.”
That’s how worried she is about me, thought Nina with an irrational sense of abandonment.
“Would you like her to call you back?” asked the baby-sitter.
“No, I, uh, won’t be available. But maybe I can call her later. Do you know what time she’ll be home?”
“They’re at the Brant Theater for that Legal Aid benefit. I think it runs till ten-thirty. And then they usually go out for coffee and dessert, so I’d expect them home around midnight.”
“Oh. That’s too late. I’ll call tomorrow, thanks.” She hung up and gave a sigh of disappointment.
“Not home?”
“No. I should have guessed they’d be out. In Jake’s law firm, the business day doesn’t end at five. The evenings are taken up by business affairs, too.”
“Your brother-in-law’s an attorney?”
“With ambitions of being a judge. And he’s only thirty years old.”
“Sounds like a fast-tracker.”
“He is. Which means he needs a fast-track wife. Wendy’s perfect that way. I’ll bet you that right at this moment, she’s at the theater charming the socks off some judge. And she can do it without even trying. She’s the politician in the family.” She glanced at Sam and saw that he was frowning. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“What theater? Where did they go tonight?”
“The Brant Theater. That’s where the benefit is.”
“Benefit?”
“The baby-sitter said it was for Legal Aid. Why?”
Sam stared ahead at the road. “The Brant Theater. Didn’t it just reopen?”
“A month ago. It was a disgrace before. All those porn flicks.”
“Damn. Why didn’t I think of it?”
Without warning, he made a screeching U-turn and headed the car the way they’d come, back toward the downtown district.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“The Brant Theater. A Legal Aid benefit. Who do you suppose’ll be there?”
“A bunch of lawyers?”
“Right. As well as our esteemed D.A., Norm Liddell. Now, I’m not particularly fond of lawyers, but I’m not crazy about picking up their dead bodies, either.”
She stared at him. “You think that’s the target? The Brant Theater?”
“They’ll need ushers tonight. Think about it. What does an usher wear?”
“Sometimes it’s just black pants and a white shirt.”
“But in a grand old theater like the Brant? They just might be dressed in green jackets with black braid….”
“That’s where we’re going?”
He nodded. “I want you to take a look. Tell me if we’re warm. Tell me if that uniform you saw could’ve been a theater usher’s.”
By the time they pulled up across the street from the Brant Theater, it was 8:20. Sam didn’t waste his time looking for a parking space; he left the car angled against the red-painted curb. As he and Nina climbed out, they heard a doorman yell, “Hey, you can’t park there!”
“Police!” Sam answered, waving his badge. “We need to get in the theater.”
The doorman stepped aside and waved them in.
The lobby was deserted. Through the closed aisle doors, they could hear the bluesy wail of clarinets, the syncopated beats of a snare drum. No ushers were in sight.
Sam yanked open an aisle door and slipped into the theater. Seconds later, he reemerged with a short and loudly protesting usher in tow. “Look at the uniform,” he said to Nina. “Look familiar?”
Nina took one glance at the short green jacket, the black braid and brass buttons, and she nodded. “That’s it. That’s the one I saw.”
“What’s the one?” demanded the usher, yanking himself free.
“How many ushers working here tonight?” snapped Sam.
“Who are you, anyway?”
Again Sam whipped out his badge. “Police. There’s a chance you have a bomb somewhere in there. So tell me quick. How many ushers?”
“A bomb?” The man’s gaze darted nervously toward the lobby exit. “Uh, we got four working tonight.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. One didn’t show up.”
“Did he have a missing finger?”
“Hell, I don’t know. We all wear gloves.” The usher looked again toward the exit. “You really think there could be a bomb in there?”
“We can’t afford to make a wrong guess. I’m evacuating the building.” He glanced at Nina. “Get out of here. Wait in the car.”
“But you’ll need help—”
He was already pushing through the door, into the darkened theater. From the open doorway, she watched him walk swiftly down the aisle. He climbed up to the stage and crossed to the conductor, who regarded him with a look of startled outrage.
The musicians, just as startled, stopped playing.
Sam grabbed the conductor’s microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said curtly. “This is the Portland Police. We have had a bomb threat. Calmly, but without delay, will everyone please evacuate the building. I repeat, stay calm, but please evacuate the building.”
Almost immediately the exodus began. Nina had to scramble backward out of the doorway to avoid the first rush of people heading up the aisle. In the confusion, she lost sight of Sam, but she could still hear his voice over the speaker system.
“Please remain calm. There is no immediate danger. Exit the building in an orderly fashion.”
He’s going to be the last one out, she thought. The one most likely hurt if a bomb does go off.
The exodus was in full force now, a rush of frightened men and women in evening clothes. The first hint of disaster happened so quickly Nina didn’t even see it. Perhaps someone had tripped over a long hem; perhaps there were simply too many feet storming the doorway. Suddenly people were stumbling, falling over each other. A woman screamed. Those still backed up in the aisle instantly panicked.
And rushed for the door.
Eleven
Nina watched in horror as a woman in a long evening gown fell beneath the stampede. Struggling to reach her, Nina shoved through the crowd, only to be swept along with them and forced out the lobby doors and into the street. To get back inside the building was impossible; she’d be moving against the crowd, against the full force of panic.
Already the street was filling up with evacuees, everyone milling about looking dazed. To her relief, she caught sight of Wendy and Jake among the crowd; at least her sister was safe and out of the building. The flood of people out the doors gradually began to ebb.
But where was Sam? Had he made it out yet?
Then, through the crowd, she spotted him emerging from the lobby door. He had his arm around an elderly man, whom he hauled to the sidewalk and set down against the lamppost.
As Nina started toward him, Sam spotted her and yelled, “This one needs attention. Take care of him!”
“Where are you going?”
“Back inside. There are a few more in there.”
“I can help you—”
“Help me by staying out of the building. And see to that man.”
He has his job to do, she thought, watching Sam head back into the theater. So do I.
She turned her attention to the elderly man propped up against the lamppost. Kneeling beside him she asked, “Sir, are you all right?”
“My chest. It hurts…”
Oh, no. A coronary. And no ambulance in sight. At once she lowered his head onto the sidewalk, checked his pulse and unbuttoned his shirt. She was so busy attending to her patient she scarcely noticed when the first patrol car pulled up in front of the theater. By then the crowd was a mass of confusion, everyone demanding to know what was going on.
She looked up to see Sam push out the lobby door again, this time carrying the woman in the evening dress. He lay the woman down beside Nina.
“One more inside,” he said, turning back to the building. “Check the lady out.”
“Navarro!” yelled a voice.
Sam glanced back as a man in a tuxedo approached.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Can’t talk, Liddell. I’ve got work to do.”
“Was there a bomb call or not?”
“Not a call.”
“Then why’d you order an evacuation?”
“The usher’s uniform.” Again Sam turned toward the building.
“Navarro!” Liddell yelled. “I want an explanation! People have been hurt because of this! Unless you can justify it—”
Sam had vanished through the lobby doors.
Liddell paced the sidewalk, waiting to resume his harangue. At last, in frustration, he shouted, “I’m going to have your ass for this, Navarro!”
Those were the last words out of Liddell’s mouth before the bomb exploded.
The force of the blast threw Nina backward, onto the street. She landed hard, her elbows scraping across the pavement, but she felt no pain. The shock of the impact left her too stunned to feel anything at all except a strange sense of unreality. She saw broken glass pelt the cars in the street. Saw smoke curl through the air and scores of people lying on the road, all of them just as stunned as she was. And she saw that the lobby door of the Brant Theater was tilted at a crazy angle and hanging by one hinge.
Through the pall of silence, she heard the first moan. Then another. Then came sobs, cries from the injured. Slowly she struggled to sit up. Only then did she feel the pain. Her elbows were torn and bleeding. Her head ached so badly she had to clutch it just to keep from throwing up. But as the awareness of pain crept into her consciousness, so too did the memory of what had happened just before the blast.
Sam
. Sam had gone into the building.
Where was he? She scanned the road, the sidewalk, but her vision was blurry. She saw Liddell, sitting up now and groaning by the lamppost. Next to him was the elderly man whom Sam had dragged out of the theater. He, too, was conscious and moving. But there was no Sam.
She stumbled to her feet. A wave of dizziness almost sent her back down to her knees. Fighting it, she forced herself to move toward that open door and stepped inside.
It was dark, too dark to see anything. The only light was the faint glow from the street, shining through the doorway. She stumbled across debris and landed on her knees. Quickly she rose back to her feet, but she knew it was hopeless. It was impossible to navigate, much less find anyone in this darkness.
“Sam?” she cried, moving deeper into the shadows. “Sam?”
Her own voice, thick with despair, echoed back at her.
She remembered that he’d stepped into the lobby a moment before the blast. He could be anywhere in the building, or he could be somewhere nearby. Somewhere she could reach him.
Again she cried out, “Sam!”
This time, faintly, she heard a reply. “Nina?” It didn’t come from inside the building. It came from the outside. From the street.
She turned and felt her way back toward the exit, guided by the glow of the doorway. Even before she reached it, she saw him standing there, silhouetted in the light from the street.
“Nina?”
“I’m here. I’m here….” She stumbled through the last stretch of darkness dividing them and was instantly swept into an embrace that was too fierce to be gentle, too terrified to be comforting.
“What the hell were you doing in there?” he demanded.
“Looking for you.”
“You were supposed to stay outside. Away from the building. When I couldn’t find you…” His arms tightened around her, drawing her so close she felt as though it were his heart hammering in her chest. “Next time, you listen to me.”
“I thought you were inside—”
“I came out the other door.”
“I didn’t see you!”
“I was dragging the last man out. I’d just got out when the bomb went off. It blew us both out onto the sidewalk.” He pulled back and looked at her. Only then did she see the blood trickling down his temple.