Dead Aim (6 page)

He scanned the opening paragraphs, which described the events that had led to Logan's offer, and then the dossier itself.

Alex Graham, age twenty-nine. Born and raised in Westacre, New Jersey, of middle-class parents who divorced when she was thirteen. Her mother, Ellen, was a computer information-systems specialist with IBM and her father, Michael, a fireman with the Newark fire department. A civil enough divorce. Though her mother retained custody, she'd spent every other weekend with her father. She won a photo contest sponsored by
National Geographic
at sixteen and was awarded a journalism scholarship to Columbia University when she graduated from high school. She'd quit college in her junior year and gone to photograph the horrendous earthquake in Tibet. The resulting photos had earned her acclaim and a place on the staff of
Newsweek.
From that point on it had been a steady climb upward in her chosen profession. She was now a freelance photojournalist and contributed principally to
World Life
.

Her mother had died of emphysema three years after Alex left school, and her father was killed at the World Trade Center a few years later. She had been engaged once but never married.

All cut and dried, Judd thought. It read like an obituary. Which it might turn out to be if Alex Graham wasn't very careful.

Not his problem. He tossed the dossier back on the table. Let Galen get someone else for the job.

But Galen hadn't said that when Judd was in trouble. He had stepped in and yanked him out from under the threat and kept him safe for months.

Forget it. This was the last job he should get near. They could very well be waiting for him. He couldn't afford to be soft when it might put everything he valued in jeopardy. He picked up the photos and started to jam them back into the envelope. He wouldn't look at them. He wouldn't let Alex Graham become a real person to him. Judd wasn't Galen, and he wouldn't be a quixotic ass and pretend that he was anything but what life had made him. He would do what was best for himself and screw--

Oh, shit.

The photo of Alex Graham was faceup, staring at him.

My God, what a remarkable face. She was not a beautiful woman, unless you considered strength beauty. Her short brown hair was clean and shining, pushed back and styled simply. Her high cheekbones were clean cut and her mouth wide and sensitive. Deep-set brown eyes sparkled with vitality and intensity. The snapshot had been taken somewhere in the mountains, and she was gazing out of the picture with a touch of defiance.

Why?

He glanced at the other photos. One was obviously a passport photo, but the other one was at a disaster site and she looked exhausted and heartsick. Yet her eyes . . . Defiance and wariness. What was behind those barriers she was putting up?

It was just a face. Don't let curiosity influence cool judgment. Don't let her become a person to you. It was always a mistake to--

Dammit, it was already too late.

Okay, she was alive for him. Then bend the situation to suit yourself. He knew how to make himself invisible. He could do the job and no one, not even Alex Graham, would be aware he was around. He could still stay apart and in full control.

His phone rang. "Hello."

"Galen. Have you finished the painting?"

"Yes. Is that why you're calling me at four in the morning?"

"Not exactly. But I didn't want you to have any distractions getting in the way of the job."

"I told you I wasn't--"

"I thought you might have second thoughts."

Judd stared down at the photograph of Alex Graham.

"Judd?"

"Maybe."

Galen was silent for a moment. "How do I turn the maybe into a yes?"

"You and Logan let me do anything I have to do. If I have to take the gloves off, I don't want anyone getting in my way. You see that I have a clear playing field."

"He's not going to agree to get the sanction taken off you yet."

"I'm not talking about the past, only the present."

"What are you thinking about?"

"You don't want to know. It might jar you out of that cozy little cocoon you're sharing with Elena. Just be ready to jump in case I need you."

"Okay. I'll call Logan. If there's any problem, I'll let you know."

"Tonight. If I'm going to do this, it's got to be right away. If this is a professional job, Graham is on borrowed time. I don't want to waste any planning on a dead woman."

"She's not dead yet. If you don't hear from me in an hour, it's a go." He hung up.

Jesus, he should have his head examined, Judd thought wearily. Why had he committed himself? Alex Graham meant nothing to him.

Because he was tired and angry and sick of being a target? Because lately he'd been tempted to just stay and wait for Runne to find him?

Judd leaned his head back on the couch, his gaze returning to the mocking face of the assassin in the painting. "Okay, so it's not the brightest decision I've ever made. . . ."

Chapter 3.

Denver, Colorado

"None of them is here." Alex wearily leaned back in the chair and gazed at Leopold across the desk. "Do you have any more mug shots?"

"None that meet your description. That's why we have databases. You'd have been sitting in that chair for the next year if we'd let you do a random check."

"They've got to have records. People who do things like this don't go through life without stumbling over the law."

"I agree. That's why I've set up an appointment for you at the local FBI field office tomorrow morning. They have a much more extensive database." Leopold poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her. "If you're up to it."

"I'm up to it." She took a sip of coffee. "I've got to be up to it. They can't get away with this."

"Then we'll find them. If the databases don't pan out, we'll call in a police artist and you can give us a description to work with."

"Jesus, why didn't I take their damn pictures that night? I didn't even think of it. I saw Ken blow up and I--" She drew a shaky breath. "I screamed. Isn't that pathetic? Instead of doing something useful. I screamed."

"Even if you'd taken their pictures, your equipment is buried beneath that landslide."

She made a face. "I can't see you letting that stop you if you were convinced the dam was sabotaged. You'd bring in the cranes and every federal security organization in the country. Right?"

"Right." Leopold smiled. "But you didn't take their pictures, and all the experts are still saying there was no sabotage. We've never found proof that Nader's helicopter was brought down. So all we have is an attempt on your life." He held up his hand. "I don't want to minimize the seriousness of that, you understand."

"I know." Leopold was a good guy and he had been as sympathetic and helpful as he could during the last few days. "The proof's got to be there."

"Then maybe the FBI can find it." The phone rang and he answered it. A moment later he handed the phone to her. "Speak of the devil. Bob Jurgens. He wants to talk to you. Remember him? I introduced you to him at the hospital."

"Why shouldn't I remember him? I wasn't that banged up." She remembered Jurgens very well. Smooth, polite, and very disapproving.

Jurgens's voice was just as disapproving when she took the phone from Leopold. "I understand you're not having much luck with identifying the men who attacked you. I think you'd better reconsider our offer to put you in protective custody. A safe house is the obvious solution. I have just the place that--"

"
No
. Not only no, but hell, no." Her hand tightened on the phone. Why wouldn't he leave her alone? "Maybe I didn't make myself clear. Arapahoe Junction isn't that much different than what happened at WTC. You give in to people like this and let them change your life and they win. I won't let them win."

"I'm sorry to hear you say that. I hope Leopold can persuade you to change your mind. I'll be in touch."

She handed the phone back to Leopold. "He wants to put me in some safe house and let me twiddle my thumbs while he completes his investigation."

"So I understand. Personally, I don't care much for those by-the-book FBI agents, but he appears to be very thorough and he's got a team out there scouring the entire crash area."

"He said he hoped you could convince me to let him tuck me away. Does he have you in his pocket?"

Leopold shook his head. "We try to work together, but we run our own show. I admit he did call and suggest I try to influence you. The safe house isn't a bad idea."

"It's a very bad idea." She stood up. "And it probably originated with John Logan." She shook her head as she translated a flicker of expression on Leopold's face. "You too?"

"He talked to me. I didn't think you'd go along with it. I told him we had your security well in hand."

"So you're responsible for that blue unmarked Toyota that's been following me since I left the hotel this morning?"

He grinned. "Busted. But how do you know it's not someone more sinister than my humble self?"

"That's why I'm telling you about it. Is it a Toyota?"

He nodded as he picked up the phone and dialed a number. "What color and model car are we using for the surveillance on Alex Graham?" He listened. "And the license number?" He jotted the number down on his pad. "Thanks." He handed Alex the slip of paper. "This one is ours. If you suspect anyone else is following you, then get on the phone and call me right away."

"Don't worry." She tucked the note in her purse. "I'll yell if I even get a glimmer I'm in danger. I believe in letting the police earn those tax dollars. Particularly when it means keeping my neck intact." She moved toward the door. "Thanks for everything, Detective."

"Thank you." Leopold walked her out of the office and down the steps. "I'll just see you to your car. Wouldn't want you to be cheated out of those tax dollars."

Alex glanced in the rearview mirror as she turned the corner and approached the Golden Nugget Hotel.

The blue Toyota was still behind her, keeping a discreet one-block distance.

She turned left, went down the underground parking ramp, and parked beside the elevator doors. She glanced quickly around before getting out and punching the button for the elevator.

She tensed.

Another car was coming down the ramp.

The elevator doors opened and she quickly stepped inside and pushed the button for the seventh floor.

No response.

She pushed the button again.

The car was closer, coming down the last curve in the ramp.

Her hand reached inside her bag for her .38 revolver. Dammit, why didn't the doors of the elevator--

She stabbed the button again.

The car on the ramp came into view.

It was the blue Toyota.

She breathed a sigh of relief and released the grasp on her gun to wave at the driver behind the wheel.

He waved back. He parked in a space a short distance away as she punched the elevator button one more time.

At last the elevator doors slid shut.

Lester muttered a curse as he threw the radio-control device on the seat beside him. What the hell had happened? Decker had promised him the elevator doors would jam if he pressed the damn switch. He should have known better than to trust anyone but himself. Fucking screwup. Now he'd have to find a way to get into Graham's hotel room.

He got out of the blue Toyota and strode toward the bank of elevators. He had to move fast. He pressed the button for the elevator. He didn't know how much time he had left before--

The doors of the elevator opened.

"Pardon me."

He whirled to see a man coming down the emergency stairs.

"I do hate to spoil your plans," the man said softly. "But I really can't let you get in that elevator."

Shit.
Cop?

Lester's hand dove into his jacket for his holstered Glock.

"Too late." Morgan shot him in the head.

Alex was just picking the phone up to call Sarah when the fire alarms in the hall started wailing.

She stiffened. A little too convenient? A fire was a great way to get someone out of a hotel room. She dialed the front desk. Busy.

She dialed Leopold at the precinct. "There's a fire alarm going off at my hotel. Will you check and see if it's legitimate?"

"I'm on it." He hung up.

Well, if the alarm was legitimate she wasn't going to stay here and burn up. She'd already gotten her handbag and camera equipment from the bedroom when the phone rang.

"The fire department is on the way. The hotel called and reported a fire in a car in the underground lot," Leopold said when she picked up. "It reached the gas tank and exploded. The smoke has entered the ventilating system. They're afraid there will be other explosions down there, so they're evacuating the hotel."