Page 39 of Concealed in Death

“That’s what you should call it.”

He took a hand off the wheel to lay it on hers. “Then we will.”

She turned her hand under his, linked fingers. “I guess I’m definitely punching you back later.”

“Praise Jesus.”

He found a spot, street level, within a half block of Clipperton’s building. Eve deduced not many people parked their vehicles along this block or two if they wanted to come back and find it in one piece.

She wasn’t worried, not with the shielding and theft deterrents on her DLE.

“You ought to buy this building,” she said as they approached it. “It’s more of a dump than the other one.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Just don’t... Okay, we got lucky. That’s him, coming out of a dive to head to his dump.”

Roarke saw the man in a padded canvas work jacket stumble out of the door of a place called Bud’s, make a weaving turn in their direction.

“Apparently he’s made good use of the dive,” Roarke commented.

He was obviously impaired, his balance iffy, but apparently his vision and cop radar wasn’t affected. He spotted them halfway between dive and dump, did a flash take, a fast, wobbling one-eighty. Then beat feet.

“Seriously?” Eve shook her head and sprinted after him.

He shoved through pedestrians, succeeded in knocking a woman and her bag of groceries to the sidewalk. A trio of anemic oranges rolled out. Eve jumped over them.

“Take care of her,” she shouted to Roarke. “I’ve got this.”

Her target opted to veer right at the corner, or his upper half made the turn while his bottom half tried to catch up.

He tripped over his own feet and skidded along the sidewalk, taking out another pedestrian.

Eve pressed her boot to the back of Clipperton’s neck, glanced over at the stunned pedestrian sitting on his ass clutching a tattered briefcase.

“You okay?” She pulled out her badge. “Are you hurt?”

“I... don’t think so.”

“I can get medical assistance if you want it.”

“I’m hurt!” Clipperton shouted.

“Shut up. Sir?”

“I’m okay.” The man pushed to his feet, shoved a gloved hand through his hair. “Do I have to give a statement? Honestly, I’m not sure what happened. I think he more or less fell into me, and I was off balance.”

“That’s fine. Here.” She managed to pull out a card and increase pressure with her boot when Clipperton wiggled under it like a snake. “If you need to contact me regarding this incident, you can reach me here.”

“Oh, thanks. Okay. Um. Then I can go?”

“Yes, sir.” She unclipped her restraints, bent down, and clapped them on Clipperton.

“Was he running away from you?”

“He was more stumbling away from me.”

“Is he a criminal?”