Sudden Prey

Unless . . . any of the women in Personnel married to a street cop?”
    Anderson shrugged. “I can find out.”
    “Do that,” Roux said grimly.
    “But, uh . . .” Anderson seemed reluctant.
    “What?” asked Lucas.
    “Personnel has been raided a few times. You know that. Guys want to look at their files, want to look at test scores or salaries. There’d be more than a few guys around here who could get inside, and who probably know enough about computers to pull up the insurance records.”
    “But when you think about how many, I bet it wouldn’t be that many,” Lucas said. “So make a list. We’ll show mugs to O’Donald.”
    “If there’s a cop in on this, we’re gonna get hurt,” Roux groaned.
    “But why would a cop line up with LaChaise? LaChaise is a goner,” the mayor said.
    “Blackmail,” said Lucas. He looked at Anderson. “When you figure out the computer stuff, let’s talk about who’s got the shaky rep. Somebody LaChaise might get to.”
    “If it’s a cop, he’s dead,” Roux said to the mayor.
    The mayor pushed away from the windowsill. “I don’t want to hear that,” he said.
    “I don’t even want to think about it—but somebody would put him down, given the chance. I guarantee it.”
     
     
     
    THE CHIEF OF surgery took Weather aside and asked, “Are you going to be okay?”
    “Sure. I mean, heck, my own secretary can’t track me down. I don’t think some hillbilly gunman’s gonna get me.” She flashed a grin at him. “Don’t worry about it, Loren. If I thought it’d be a problem, I wouldn’t be here.”

14
    LUCAS FOUND WEATHER and another woman in a thirteenth-floor laboratory, looking at skin grafts on a white rat. Weather was surprised when he poked his head in the door: “We need to talk,” he said gruffly.
    The other woman looked at Weather as though Weather should be insulted. But Weather nodded: “Sure . . .” And when they got out in the hall, she asked,
    “How mad are you? You look kind of white around the eyes.”
    “Don’t joke about it,” he said, his voice suddenly rasping. “We have a tape of a phone call and they were talking about you.”
    “About me?”
    “Yeah. They want to get you, because you’re with me. I’m out there busting my balls running these assholes down, and now I’ve got to spend a half hour looking for you because you’ve run off someplace . . .”
    “Hey,” she said sharply. “I did not run off. I went to a hospital, where I work. ”
    “And told everybody you really didn’t want to talk to me, so when we get this phone call, I wind up having to ditch the investigation to find you.”
    “I didn’t ask you to do that,” she said.
    He stopped talking for a second, then said, “Listen, just what the fuck do you think is gonna happen if one of these people shows up here with a machine gun? You think they’re gonna ask for you, and take a number? Or you think maybe they’ll shoot a couple of your friends to make the point, then ask where you’re at. You’re not just risking your life. You’re risking theirs. There are already six people dead from this thing.”
    “Eight,” she said. “Don’t forget the two women at the credit union.”
     
     
     
    MARTIN DROVE DOWN I-35W to Burnsville, then, by memory, took them through a rat’s-nest of suburban streets, and finally to a blue rambler, where a snow-packed driveway led to a double garage. Martin parked in the street. “Hope he’s home,” Martin said, leaning across Sandy to look out the side window. “He is, most days.”
    “Want me to wait?” she asked. She’d run, once Martin was out of sight.
    “Better come along,” Martin said.
    “I was so scared in the store, that somebody would recognize me,” Sandy said.
    “I don’t think Dave’ll recognize you,” Martin said. “He doesn’t watch much TV. And he’s a little shy.”
    Martin rang the doorbell, waited, rang it again and the door opened. Dave—Martin hadn’t mentioned his last name—was an older man with thick glasses, wearing a Patagonia pullover. He pushed open the storm door, saw Sandy behind Martin and blushed.
    “How y’ doing, Dave?”
    “Bill, come on in.” Dave pushed the door wider. “You on a trip?”
    “Yeah, I am—heading out to the Dakotas.”
    “You heard about the trouble we’re having?” Dave glanced sideways at Sandy and blushed again.
    “On the radio,” Martin said.
    Dave said, “And they want to take the guns away from the good people. I