Page 128 of Devoted in Death

“You don’t give up. Just keep on digging until you have the bone. Your killers are also very untidy.”

“Yeah, isn’t that handy?” Her lips spread in a feral smile as she studied the litter of fast-food bags, disposable go-cups and receipts. “I don’t suppose there’s a field kit in that new ride of yours?”

“There is, of course, but I think all you’ll want at this point is...” He took tweezers out of his kit.

Nodding, she used them to lift one of the receipts. “From a Stop ’N Go in New Jersey. Another from a café here, on West Broad.

“Lock it back up. We’ve got them now. One way or the other, we’ve got them.”

She tagged Reo first, interrupting the APA’s beauty sleep. Cher Reo would order the search warrant, save time.

The chain of command meant she should contact Whitney next, but her team had earned it. And briefing them first would add to the movement.

“Hey,” Peabody said when she came on screen. She blinked blurry, sleep-deprived eyes.

“I’ve got the van.”

“You—what? Holy crap, Dallas, are you kidding me?”

“They changed the plates. Do a quick run on Lappans, Anthony Charles, on East Broadway just to tie it up. Reo’s getting us a warrant to search it.”

“Where are you?”

“Second level of a permit garage.” She rattled off the address. “Get that to McNab. I want the security feed for the past five days. Have Banner start a search on the three buildings that use this garage. Vacants, missings, DBs. I’m ordering a dozen uniforms to knock on doors in these buildings.”

“Do you want us down there?”

“I want you where you are. Get the data, all of it. I’ll pull you in, if we locate them, for the bust.”

“It’s not about the bust—I mean being there. Me being there.”

“I know it, but I’ll pull you in if and when. Work fast.”

She cut Peabody off, and woke up her commander.

She considered Mira, but she’d need the shrink after the bust. She’d want Mira once she had James and Parsens in the box.

Pacing, she ordered the uniforms, giving her own Uniform Carmichael the lead, with specific instructions. Two uniforms per door, with a story about a lead on a missing child reported seen in the building.

“They can’t and won’t open the door,” Roarke commented. “Or it’s highly unlikely.”

“I know it. So we can cross off any doors that open. Hostages are a possibility—other than Campbell and Mulligan—but I think that’s low. They’d be compelled to hurt and use anyone they have.”

“Another possibility,” he began.

“The van’s here—they’re not.” If that turned out to be the case, she’d deal with the frustration of it later. “We still have to do the door-to-doors.”

She used her comm again, ordered up sweepers for the van.

“Can you find a slot for that machine of yours, leave me the field kit? If Reo comes through before the sweepers get here, I can start processing the van. But I want that thing out of the way. Maybe they’ll decide it’s a good night to pick up fresh meat, and I don’t want to warn them off.”

He took a slow study of their ground, assessed it.

“Why don’t I take out the elevators while I’m at it? That would limit them, if they’re in the building, to the stairs. If they do come in, and from the outside, you’d hear them before they made it up on foot.”

“Good thinking.”

She’d put a couple of uniforms on the garage entrance while she and the sweepers worked. She checked the time, saw it was after midnight.