The Devils Teardrop

honor, this is a federal operation and I’ll have to ask you to leave right now.”
    They were in the parking garage. Lukas noted immediately that there was a controlled entrance and exit—to get in you needed to take a ticket. That meant that license plates were recorded and that in turn meant that the Digger would probably not come in this way—the unsub would have told him not to leave a record of his visit. But Mayor Kennedy and his damn entourage were headed for the main entrance to the hotel, where he and his uniformed bodyguards could be spotted in a minute by the killer.
    And for God’s sake, a camera crew?
    Kennedy looked down at Lukas. He was a head taller. He said, “You have to get the guests out of here. Evacuate them. When the killer shows up let me talk to him.”
    Lukas ignored him and said to C. P., “Any of them get into the hotel itself?”
    “No, we stopped ’em here.”
    Kennedy continued. “Evacuate! Get them out!”
    “We can’t do that,” she said. “The Digger’ll know something’s wrong.”
    “Well, tell them to go their rooms at least.”
    “Think about it, Mayor,” she snapped. “Most of them aren’t guests. They’re just locals—here for dinner and parties. They don’t have rooms.”
    Lukas looked around the entrance to the hotel andthe street outside. It wasn’t crowded—the stores were all closed for the holiday. She whispered fiercely, “He could be here at any minute. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Thought about adding “sir.” She didn’t.
    “Then I’m going to have to go over your head. Who’s your supervisor?”
    “I am,” Cage said. No shrugs now. Just a cold glare. “You have no jurisdiction here.”
    The mayor snapped, “So, who’s your supervisor?”
    “Somebody you don’t want to call, believe me.”
    “Let me be the judge of that.”
    “No,” Lukas said firmly, glancing at her watch. “The Digger could be in the building right now. I don’t have time to argue with you. I want you and your people out of here now!”
    Kennedy looked at his aide—what was his name? Jefferies, she believed. A reporter was nearby, filming the entire exchange.
    “I’m not going to let the FBI risk those people’s lives. I’m going to—”
    “Agent Ardell,” she said, “put the mayor in custody.”
    “You can’t arrest him,” Jefferies snapped.
    “Yes, she can,” Cage said angrily now, with the most minute of shrugs. “And she can arrest you too.”
    “Get him out of here,” Lukas said.
    “Lockup?”
    Lukas considered. “No. Just stay with him and keep him out of our hair until the operation’s over.”
    “I’m call my lawyer and—”
    A flash of anger burst inside her, as bright as the one that made her explode at Kincaid. She looked up at him, pointed a finger at his chest. “Mayor, this is my operation and you’re interfering with it. I’ll let you go on your waywith Agent Ardell or, so help me, I’ll have you detained downtown. It’s entirely up to you.”
    There was a pause. Lukas wasn’t even looking at the mayor; her eyes were scanning the parking lot, the sidewalks, the shadows. No sign of anyone who might be the Digger.
    Kennedy said, “All right.” He nodded toward the hotel. “But if there’s any bloodshed tonight, it’ll be on your hands.”
    “Goes with the territory,” she muttered, recalling she’d threatened Kincaid with the same words. “Go on, C. P.”
    The agent led the mayor back to his limo. The two men got inside. Jefferies stared defiantly at Lukas for a moment but she turned quickly, and together she and Cage walked back toward the hotel.
    “Shit,” Cage said.
    “No, I think it’s okay. I don’t think the Digger could’ve seen anything.”
    “That’s not what I mean. Think about it—if Kennedy found out we were here, that means we’ve got a leak. Where the hell do you think it is?”
    “Oh, I know that.” She opened her cell phone and made a call.
    * * *
    “Detective,” Lukas said, struggling to control her anger, “you know that information about tac operations is secure. You want to give me a reason why I shouldn’t refer what you did to the U.S. attorney?”
    She expected Len Hardy to deny or at least offer some slippery excuse about a mistake or getting tricked. But he surprised her by saying briskly, “Refer whateveryou want but Kennedy wanted a chance to negotiate with the shooter. I gave it to him.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you’re willing to let, what, a