Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #4: Books 13-16 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (ereader iphone txt) 📖

the words sounded suddenly hollow. I realized that he was lost inside his mind, and I was out of mine, and free. “It’s not too late. Cut me loose and stop this before you get completely lost. I can show you the way back.”

There was movement, a shuffling of feet and the figure seemed to grow within the doorframe. I strained my eyes to make out some detail. I imagined I could see some pallor where the face was, but hard as I strained, the details fogged and merged and became hazy.

I flopped my head back again. “You must realize that you are in a maze. You must realize that you are in a game of Troy. The only way out is death. You can’t kill me, I am already disembodied. But you, you are lost.”

I looked again. The shape shifted, warped slightly and the door slowly closed.

* * *

Dehan took an unmarked Charger and, with two patrol cars, headed with sirens howling along the Cross Bronx Expressway, and, at the George Washington Bridge, hurtled south down the Henry Hudson Parkway.

They screeched to a halt outside Penelope’s block and Dehan scrambled from her vehicle shouting to Vazquez and Torres, “Stay on the door! Get security! Find out if there is a rear door. Cover every damn exit on the building!”

And as they ran to their task, she bellowed at Günther and Brown, “You! With me!” and stormed into the lobby, holding her badge in front of her. The guy on the desk looked startled. Dehan snapped at him, “Detective Dehan, NYPD. Get security! Has Detective Stone been here?”

“Yes, Detective. He went up, oh, two hours ago? A little more… Ninth floor, Miss Peach…”

“Just the two elevators?”

“Yes!”

“You two,” she pointed to Günther and Brown, “Take that one. I’ll take the other.” To the guy on the desk, she snapped, “You, get security to cover the stairs. Nobody leaves!”

They rode to the ninth floor and as the doors slid open, she pushed through and ran down the red-carpeted passage to the walnut door where she hammered with her fist, bellowing, “NYPD! Open the door! This is Detective Carmen Dehan! Open the damned door!”

As Günther and Brown caught up with her, she drew her piece and they drew theirs. She hammered again and rang the bell. “NYPD! Open up or I’ll kick down the door!”

The door opened and Penelope stood staring at her. Her face was pale and her hair was drawn back from her face. She was still in her satin housecoat.

“Carmen… Detective Dehan, what on Earth?”

“Is Detective Stone here?”

“He was, a couple of hours ago, but he left. What is this about?”

“Ma’am, we have cause to believe that a serious crime might have been committed in this apartment and we are going to enter and make a search. Please stand aside.”

“What?”

One look at Dehan’s face told her not to argue and she stepped aside. Dehan pushed her way in, snarling over her shoulder, “Every room, every wardrobe, every cupboard. Search the damn toilet cisterns! I want every nook and cranny in this apartment scoured!”

When they had disappeared into the bedroom, Dehan turned on Penelope, took a handful of her satin gown in her left fist and rammed her against the wall. When she spoke, her voice was an ugly rasp.

“Between you and me, sister. You like taking other men’s husbands? You like hurting them? Let me put you on notice, babe. If you have touched him, if you have breathed on him too hard, I will make sure not a day goes by for the rest of your miserable life that you don’t weep and regret what you did today. Do we understand each other?” Before Penelope could answer, Dehan pushed her face closer, so they were barely an inch apart, and whispered, “Let’s cut the crap. I promise you, if you have hurt him, the law will not protect you. He’s my partner, but he’s my husband too, and I am a bad, bad bitch from the Bronx.”

She held her eye for a long moment, then let her go and said, “Now, Penelope, is there anything you want to tell me?”

Penelope stared at her wide-eyed. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Count on it. Where is he?”

“He was here, but he left.”

Günther and Brown came out of the bedroom. Brown made for the kitchen and Günther went out onto the terrace. Dehan repeated, “Where is he? What have you done with him?”

Penelope’s voice began to rise. “I keep telling you, he was here and he left!”

Günther’s voice came from the terrace. “Detective, two cups of coffee out here!”

“You better start talking, Penelope. You’d better tell me where my partner is or things are going to get real ugly for you.”

Her voice was getting shrill. “Will you please listen to me! He came here. He had found discrepancies in my story. He wanted to know why I had changed my telephone number, why I had lied about calling Jack…”

“I’m pretty curious about that myself.”

“We talked and I explained it. When I had finished, he said he wanted me to go to your station house this afternoon and make a new statement. I was just getting ready to go when you showed up. He left and that was the last I saw of him.”

“You called Jack, and lied about it. He came to your apartment and disappeared. Stone catches you in that lie, comes to your apartment, and disappears… You’d better pray he turns up safe, Penelope. You better pray. Get dressed, you’re coming down to the station.”

Penelope gave a ragged sigh and went to the bedroom. Dehan gave Brown a nod and she went with her.

“Günther, go down. You, Vazquez and Torres start canvassing the area, start with security and the guy on the desk, I want