A Dangerous Game

Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

Cold as Ice

For Keith,

also known as ‘Big Daddy’, who told me once that a book about his life should

be entitled, Hey, ya’ll, watch this!

And For Cathy,

Busy mother of five wonderful girls, but who still has time to read my work

and encourage me, as well as listen to all my frantic woes as a writer.

Acknowledgements

For as long as I can remember, I have been a follower of mysteries and suspense. When Dick Wolf ’s Law and Order series began, I was an instant fan. I especially fell in love with Criminal Intent and it’s premier detective, Bobby Goren. Like most writers do, I imagine, I created an episode of my own in my head. I liked it so much, I had to use it. That is how Daniel Dillon came into being. I had to make many changes, obviously, since this is a love story, but the feel of the character is essentially the same. Long live Bobby Goren!

Prologue

May 13, 2004 7:42AM

He laid the vest onto the bed. Its hand-sewn pockets were loaded with blocks of an explosive called C-4, but he didn’t fear an explosion. The C-4 was inert until the wires were inserted into the clay-like substance, and even then, it would take the proper detonation signal to set them off.

That stuff scares me, the woman said, backing away from her lover of the last two months.

I know what I’m doing. The man’s voice was gruff. He had been practicing the lowering of his voice for a while now.

He moved to the dresser to assess his appearance in the mirror. He wore a body suit with padding incorporated into the lining around his chest and midsection. The intention was to add approximately thirty pounds to his appearance and it was remarkable how realistic it looked. The material was snug and it was warmer than he liked, but he would be spending some time in the restaurant’s freezer and that would help if he became uncomfortable. He pulled a t-shirt and a pair of camouflage pants out of the dresser drawer and put them on over the body suit.

He looked into the mirror again, this time to determine that his wig and fake beard appeared realistic enough for his satisfaction. He had intentionally used small amounts of baby oil on the wig and on the beard to make them look matted and dirty. Fake hair doesn’t get oily like real hair does, so this gave his disguise more authenticity. He turned his head side to side. Perfect.

He inserted the pads he ordered a couple of months ago from a costume supply house into his mouth and wedged them between his cheeks and upper back teeth. He moved his jaw around experimentally.

You’re sure the envelope was placed on the sergeant’s desk at Dillon’s precinct where it would be easily seen? he asked. The cheek pads behaved just as they had the many times he’d used them before. They were an annoyance and they forced him to concentrate harder on forming his words, but that was a good thing. It was truly amazing how they altered his facial structure.

I did exactly as you said. I went to the precinct at four this morning and waited outside for the desk sergeant to leave the front area. I put the envelope right in the middle of his desk where he couldn’t miss it, the woman said.

There was a slight tremble of nervousness in her voice, but the man didn’t spare her a glance. He expected her to be nervous. She wouldn’t be his problem for very long after today.

Perfect, he said. He looked down at his wrist watch. The envelope will be on Dillon’s desk when he gets there at eight o’clock.

How can you be so sure he’ll come? she asked, moving to stand at his side in front of the mirror.

The man met her eyes in the mirror’s reflection and laughed. He won’t stand me up. I’m an informer with information on the Downing case. That note will have his juices flowing, believe me. He won’t be able to pass it up.

Don’t you think it’s dangerous inviting a homicide detective into all of this?

Dangerous? He shrugged and turned to face her. Maybe, but this is my game. It wouldn’t be as much fun if I didn’t invite the man responsible for making my life a living hell for the past five years, he said.

Fun? You expect this to be fun? she gasped.

He walked to the bed and sat down to slip on his shoes. Unfortunately, his height, at five feet, seven inches, was something he could not disguise. He had considered wearing elevated shoes, but decided against them. He needed to be quick on his feet today and Dillon would certainly notice the thick soles. Neither could he disguise his eye color. His eyes were particularly sensitive and the contact lens’s he’d tried were unbearable.

He stood up and reached for the vest. He picked it up, admiring his handy work for a moment before putting it on. Then, he pulled the old army jacket he’d found at the Salvation Army store a few weeks ago on over the vest. Even over the padding and explosives, it was still loose.

He inserted the wiring into the C-4, and then picked up a small device from the bedside table. He programmed an instruction into the device and then grinned with exhilaration when the digital display showed the bomb going live. Adrenaline rushed through his body and he could barely contain his glee.

Damned right, I do, he finally answered.

CHAPTER 1

May 13th, 2004 11:17a.m.

Blood was everywhere. Daniel Dillon leaned over the pale, beautiful woman, careful not to disrupt evidence. He reached down with his left hand to open one of her eyelids and check the color of her eyes. He could have looked at her driver’s license in the purse lying nearby, but he needed to see them for himself. The latex gloves he wore kept him from knowing the true feel of her skin against his fingertips.

He brushed his fingers across the smooth skin of the woman’s cheek, pushing a strand of the red-gold hair away from her face. He would be the last one to ever touch her with such gentleness. She has green eyes, he said to the woman standing behind him, his voice soft and reverent, as if he were in a church.

The small red splotches marking her eyes were indications of petechial hemorrhaging. She had been strangled. His eyes moved down to her throat where bruises had formed on her neck, confirming the diagnosis.

There are no bruises on her face, he said. These marks on her throat indicate she was strangled, he said, pointing to the victim’s neck. The wounds on her chest, stomach and thighs are small two-inch cuts, no, more like slices on her skin. Just enough to bring blood. There must be at least fifty of them. He frowned in concentration as he stared at the wounds, trying to make sense of them.

He bent over the woman in an unnatural position, so that his face was only inches away from her skin. These, he said pointing to the cuts just below her ribs, appear to be arranged in some kind of pattern. I can’t tell what it is. We’ll have to wait for the coroner to wash away the blood. A memory from his past flickered before him, but he pushed it away. The information might be significant later, but at the moment, this woman deserved all of his concentration.

He glanced up at his partner, Rainey Townsend. She’s not married, he said, holding a limp hand up for her inspection and then gently laying it back into position. The lack of rings didn’t mean anything, but the lack of a tan line on her left ring finger did. Her skin was still warm. She’d been dead for only a couple of hours.

Daniel, the ID says Dawn Madison. Twenty nine. Red hair. Green eyes. Five-eight. One-thirty-five, Rainey said, reading from the license she took from the expensive leather billfold in the woman’s purse. No pictures of a significant other. There are some pictures of kids. Probably nieces and nephews, she said, eyeing the woman’s abdomen.

Hey, Townsend, one of the CSI guys called from the bedroom. I have some prints. Can’t say how old. May or may not be our guy.

Find a knife yet? she yelled back.

Nah. It’s long gone, unless he kept it as a souvenir.

Or kept it to use it again, Rainey muttered under her breath. She was raped? she asked, turning back to Daniel.

Daniel eased around to the other side of the woman’s naked, prostrate body. He crouched down and studied every nuance of the way she was laid out. He allowed his imagination to take hold and the scene before him changed. He pictured in his mind’s eye the assault as it was happening, using the evidence at hand as his guide. He scribbled his thoughts and several questions into his notebook. His notes were often invaluable to him during an investigation because things that may not make sense in the beginning, often proved important as the investigation began closing in on a suspect. One thing was certain, Daniel knew he would be able to recall every detail of this crime scene even without the notes he was always so scrupulous to make.

The medical examiner will have to say for sure, but I’d say yes. There’s severe bruising on the inside of her thighs, although I can’t detect any semen. He either used a condom or he cleaned her up before he got busy with the knife.

Rainey shuddered and the motion drew Daniels attention. Rainey, his partner in the Homicide/Major Case squad of the last two years, was most certainly a competent detective. She was brainy, thorough, and a bulldog when it came to hunting down evidence, but her difficulty in distancing herself from the victims concerned him. They deserved her respect, but emotions made her vulnerable. If she kept this up, she would burn out on homicide before too long.

Dismissing his concerns for his partner for the moment, he glanced around the victim’s home. Her apartment was situated in an older building, but it had recently been renovated. It was an inviting and comfortable place to live, or at least it had been before blood spatter marred its decor.

It was located in one of Washington’s nicest neighborhoods which indicated that the victim was wealthy. She almost had to be to afford all of this, unless she had a wealthy lover. He frowned as he noted ‘Check for lover’ in his notebook. He wasn’t stereotyping, just covering all his bases.

He walked over to the only door that allowed entrance into the apartment and studied the doorjamb and locks. He saw no obvious signs of lock tampering. The building had door men that covered the building’s lobby entrance and the entrance to the tenant parking garage 24/7, which led to the question of how the perp got in. The only other access to the apartment was the balcony. It was three stories up and it overlooked a scattering of buildings and a park or a playground in the distance. The CSI team confirmed that the balcony doors were locked from the inside when they got here, and that the fire escape hadn’t been used. The ladder sections were nearly rusted shut and would have made too much noise had the perp attempted to enter that way.

He pulled his gaze away from the glass balcony doors and went back to kneel by the victim. He re-covered her body with the coroner’s sheet, remorse for a life cut short buried down deep in his heart.

Let’s go, he said, standing up, and his eyes moved around the room for one long last look. He removed his gloves and tossed them to one of the lab guys. CSI can finish this up. We have to wait on the lab results anyway.

Rainey, suffering from the smell of blood that permeated the air, was happy to leave. He couldn’t blame her; the stench was enough to turn the stomach of the bravest of souls.

He followed her from the apartment and they headed for the elevator. On the way, he re-checked the halls for cameras, but didn’t see any. That was unfortunate, but expected. Contrary to what the public saw on television cop shows, most people often chose privacy over safety.

A few minutes later they were in the tenant parking garage where they’d parked their car. There were cameras in the garage. Daniel motioned for one of the uniformed policeman. Get a copy of those tapes. Not just for today, but as far back as they go, he said, pointing at the camera posted just outside of the elevator. And get all of the tapes from the front entrance, while you’re at it.

The officer nodded and jogged off to do as he was told.

He passed several more uniformed policemen who were searching for evidence around the parking area, especially in the vicinity of the victim’s car. Daniel nodded an acknowledgement to a few of the guys as he passed, but didn’t stop to speak. The woman was killed inside her apartment and he doubted there would be any evidence of the killer in the garage unless there were fingerprints on or inside her car. That task had already been taken care of by the crime scene unit.

He smiled when one of the uniforms nearly tripped over his feet as Rainey passed. The constancy of human nature, particularly the male human nature, amused him. His partner was an exceptionally beautiful woman and men tended to take notice.

Rainey got behind the wheel of their car and glanced down at her watch. We have plenty of time to meet up with the informer about the Downing case, if you still want to check out the note Sergeant Brice found this morning, she said. Hey, we can even have lunch there if we hurry. I’ve wanted to try that restaurant for a while, now.

Five minutes ago you nearly lost your breakfast and now you’re hungry? he asked with a raised eyebrow. Her swift changes of mood fascinated him. She was a passionate woman in the way she worked, the way she ate, and the way she cursed. Unfortunately for him, her passion left him unaffected. He appreciated her value as a partner, but he found it difficult to connect with her on any other level. That was not surprising since he found it difficult to connect with anyone, family included, on any other level.

Rainey drove out of the parking garage and into the street ignoring his barb. Don’t act surprised. I’ve seen how much food you can put away. You leave me in the dust, she said, eyeing his six foot, four inch frame with a speculative look in her eye.

Daniel felt her interest, but he knew it was not serious. She had been hurt by one of his twin brothers—he was not sure which one—not long ago, and that pain was still buried in her heart. I can pack away plenty of food, but I wonder what Matt or Jordan would say if you got fat?

Damn it, Daniel, she growled. I will not get fat. I have a great metabolism. And I don’t care what Matt or Jordan have to say about anything.

Really?

Gina was right about you, wasn’t she? You do read minds. Otherwise, how would you know I was even thinking about Matt? Um, or Jordan?

So that’s the way it is, huh? Matt’s the one you have your eye on, he said.

Neither, thank you very much. Besides, who can tell them apart? They look like a set of damned bookends.

Twins. They’re called twins. Has anyone ever told you that you curse too much?

No, she said pulling into a parking space across the street from the restaurant. And I wouldn’t start now if I were you!

Won’t say another word, he said with a grin as he got out of the car. So, are you coming to Gina and Sam’s wedding? Matt and Jordan will be there, of course.

I’ll be there. I’m not letting your sister down just because your boneheaded brothers are going to be there. It’s Saturday at two o’clock, right? she asked.

Right, he said, following her as she hurried to cross the street before the light changed. Two more days of madness before the big day. Mom has her hands full with all the preparations. All of Sam’s family are at the house.

He jumped ahead of her to open the door of the restaurant. He let a woman whose arms were busy with her two small children come out before motioning for Rainey to go in ahead of him. The Maitre’d met them just inside the door.

Smoking, Daniel said to the woman, and he grinned when Rainey gave him a dirty look. What? One little cigarette won’t kill you, he said, following the head waitress to a table near the bar. Daniel pulled out a chair for Rainey and then went around the table to sit so that he was facing the front door. He wanted to make sure he would see the informer when he or she came into the restaurant. He picked up the cloth napkin in front of him and placed it in his lap.

Rainey sighed in exasperation. No, but it might kill you, she muttered. I thought you were supposed to be quitting.

He didn’t respond to her remark. He did, however, take a moment to glance around the room to see if anyone was watching him. Their mysterious informer could already be here, although he and Rainey were thirty minutes early for the meeting. He didn’t notice anyone unusually interested in him.

He studied the interior of the restaurant, admiring the wooden beams placed decoratively along the edges of the huge dining room and the faux cracked painted look of the walls. Live Ivy was interspersed heavily around the room, made to look almost as if it were growing out of the walls. There was the expected mural on the back wall by the restrooms as no Greek restaurant would have been complete without one. The waiters were dressed in peasant clothing. The room smelled deliciously of herbs, spices and baked bread. His stomach growled. It was barely noon and yet the dining room was nearly full. He and Rainey were lucky to have gotten a table.

Laughter erupted at a table nearby and Daniel glanced their way. The sight of the young women having a good time turned his mood introspective. The difference from this atmosphere and that of the apartment twenty minutes ago didn’t belong in the same, sane world.

He shook off the melancholy thought and picked up his menu. Rainey was still stewing about his refusal to acknowledge her remark about his smoking. He could tell she was about to bring the subject back up, so he dropped his napkin to the floor in an attempt to derail her argument. As he reached for the napkin, he noticed her smirk of bemusement. She was beginning to catch on to his antics.

He often used clumsiness as a shield. Most people associated clumsiness with stupidity, which was exactly what he intended. Perps often tended to underestimate him, much to their later displeasure.

He had just grasped the napkin from the floor when he heard her chair scrape back.

Gun! she screamed as she jumped to her feet. In the same motion, she pulled her weapon from its holster beneath her jacket and aimed it somewhere over Daniel’s head.

She was too late.

Daniel watched the impact of a bullet as it slammed into Rainey’s shoulder. Her arms flailed out in defense as she fell to the ground, all of it happening in a blur and yet every moment was scribed onto Daniel’s brain like snapshots he could pull out and look at later.

Rainey hit the floor hard, and blacked out.

CHAPTER 2

Daniel swung around with his gun drawn, aiming at the man who just shot his partner. The gunman, a male of about forty to forty-five years old with dirty brown, longish hair, a scraggly beard, and shabbily dressed in overly large army fatigues, had grabbed one of the restaurant’s female patrons. He held her in front of him like a shield as he backed up against the bar.

Nobody move, the gunman screamed, barely heard over the din caused by the fear and panic of the people who were scrambling to get away from him.

A feral smile glared off of the man’s scruffy face. He was enjoying the chaos he was causing. His eyes feverishly darted around the room like a cowhand riding a stampeding herd. I’ll kill her, he yelled into the fray.

Daniel moved toward the man with both arms extended in front of him, bracing his weapon in the classic stance. He waited for the frightened crowd to quiet down a bit. He didn’t want to shout at the gunman because it was too volatile a situation and he had no sense of the suspect as yet.

Nobody has to get hurt here, Daniel enunciated clearly when the man finally glanced at him. His gaze flickered to the woman who had the unfortunate luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her eyes were dilated and her hands clutched defensively at the arm that was surrounding her throat, but she did not cry or try to break his hold. She followed the gunman’s lead, but her eyes never left Daniel’s as she waited for an indication of what she should do next. The connection built between them that fast.

He shook his head side to side indicating that she shouldn’t try anything.

She blinked and then looked down.

Daniel saw her body relax and knew she wouldn’t be causing any trouble. With that worry out of the way, he glanced at the weapon in the man’s hand. It was a .32 which would do plenty of damage at close range. He imagined, just for a second, what a blast from that weapon would do to the woman’s head, but then he pushed the picture out of his mind. The image of Rainey bleeding on the floor behind him was enough distraction for now. Then something else caught his attention and he froze. Although the man had the woman’s neck wedged in the crook of his elbow, there was something gripped in his left hand. It looked like a small remote. He hoped it was a cell phone, but deep down inside he knew exactly what it was.

His lousy day had suddenly gone straight to hell.

The gunman saw what captured Daniel’s attention and smiled. He loosened his grip on the woman’s neck and pulled his jacket open to let Daniel see what lay beneath. The sight brought mingled gasps and moans from the people close by.

I have a bomb strapped to my chest, he said loudly, turning so that most of the others could glimpse the square pouches and wiring wrapped around his torso. This, he said, indicating the remote in his hand, is all I need to blow us all to smithereens. He laughed, the sound coming out like staccato barks.

The woman inched away from the gunman when he let her go, and tried to fade into the wall behind her. Daniel expected the gunman to jerk her back around, but he didn’t seem to notice her withdrawal. He just started walking backwards towards the back of the dining room, parting the frightened patrons behind him as efficiently as God parted the Red Sea.

"Okay, listen up. Everybody move to the front of the restaurant. Don’t go near the doors or the windows and make damned sure you stay away from the walls. Go! Move! Push the tables out away from the center of the room, and then I want you all in the middle of the floor together. Do it!

You, he said, pointing at Daniel. Put your gun on the table here. Your partner’s gun, too. And bring your handcuffs. I want ’em all over here.

Daniel felt hackles rise on the back of his neck, but he turned away from the guy and hurried to where Rainey was lying on the floor.

He faltered as he neared her, the sight of so much blood bringing him up short. Fury ignited inside him and it was all he could do not to turn around and blow the bastard’s head off. If he could have been sure what kind of remote was involved, he would have. But if it was one of those remotes where the gunman only had to release a button and the explosives would activate, they’d all be dead in an instant.

He crouched down and picked up the gun that was still clutched in her hand. Even unconscious, she didn’t let go of it easily. His hand shaking, he reached into her jacket and pulled her handcuffs out of her coat pocket and then rose to his feet.

Is there a doctor in here? A nurse? he asked, looking around the room at the frightened faces. My partner’s been shot, she needs help now, he said, his fear and frustration levels rising when no one came forward.

Get those guns over here now! the gunman ordered, his attention swinging between Daniel and the rest of his hostages.

I…uh…I’m a nurse.

Daniel turned towards the voice and saw the woman that the gunman used for cover just moments before. She headed his way, grabbed a couple of the cloth napkins from a nearby table and then kneeled down beside his partner. Her position drew her black skirt taut over her thighs and one of her high heeled shoes fell off. She kicked the other one off as well, and then she got to work. Her hands were shaking, but she seemed to be doing everything necessary to stop the bleeding.

Relieved that something was being done to help his partner, Daniel pushed his fear for Rainey to the back of his mind and turned back to the gunman. He walked over to the man, laid the guns and handcuffs on the table near him, and then backed a couple of steps away to study the man carefully.

He took in every detail of the bomb, determining that the blocks of explosive were C-4 and not Semtex, the newest explosive material on the market. C4 was bulkier, but it would do the job and the wiring on the bomb was simple, but effective. He wished he could get a better look at the remote device in the man’s hand, but he couldn’t tell much about it with the coat sleeve of the army jacket hanging low over the gunman’s wrist.

What’s your name, Detective? the man asked, his tone loud and abrasive.

Daniel Dillon.

All right, Danny boy, he said, I want you to go into the kitchen and both bathrooms. Bring everybody out here. Pronto. Then he turned towards the crowd in the middle of the room to announce his intentions.

Listen up. I’m only going to say this once. He pushed a button on the device in his hand and all around the room on the walls, windows and doors small red lights came on and started flashing. He strutted around the room pointing out the blinking lights. "You see these lights? I just activated a perimeter system that covers this entire restaurant. Every wall, every window, every door has been wired and linked to this little device in my hand. If anyone tries to leave or come into this building by the door or by breaking a window or even by going through a wall, the connection will break and the explosives that I’ve planted all around this restaurant will go off. Oh, the same goes for the ceiling and the floor, so don’t anybody get any bright ideas.

You, he said, pointing to a man standing close to the front door. Don’t let anybody come in. If somebody touches that door, we go kaboom! The gunman cackled at his joke and the man he appointed as guardian of the door turned pale as he looked out the glass window at the sidewalk teeming with people. The man stood in the doorway frozen for a moment, and then he started flapping his arms up and down threateningly. He was getting a few weird looks from passerbys, but his performance was effectively keeping people away.

Danny boy, the madman yelled. Hurry up and tell Petros and his kitchen help to get out here. If they go out that back door, there won’t be enough left of us to bury.

Daniel hurried. He pushed through the swinging kitchen doors and found the kitchen staff in full lunch mode, none of them aware that anything was going on. He made his way through the boisterous throng of chefs and waiters to the back door and checked it out.

The same red flashing lights were activated back here as well. He saw a mechanism on both sides of the door that allowed a steady electrical connection as long as the door was closed. If that door was opened, then the connection would break.

He cursed under his breath in frustration, then turned towards the room and held up his badge. The staff was too busy to notice him. He put two fingers in his mouth and let out a piecing whistle.

Listen up, he yelled when he had their attention. I need you all to do exactly as I say. There’s a man with a bomb in your dining room. He’s wired all the doors and walls to explode on contact. So please, don’t even think about trying to leave the restaurant. He wants me to bring all of you out into the dining room with the others. And remember, don’t touch any of the outside doors or walls. They’ve been wired to explode.

The owner, a small man in stature who was Greek in coloring as well as attitude, came running up to him, What is going on? What do you mean, explosives? His accent was strong in his distress.

Are you Petros? he asked.

Yes, sir, I am.

There’s a man out there with a gun and about five pounds of C-4 strapped to his chest. He shot my partner, who’s lying out there in a pool of her own blood and he has your restaurant wired with explosives. He wants you out there where he can watch you. I’m not joking about the doors. Do you see those blinking lights?

The man looked at the lights as if surprised to see them activated. Yes, that is the security system that Abraham set up for me last week.

Abraham? Daniel asked, frowning.

Yes, Abraham Lincoln. Like our sixteenth president, the owner said, his head bobbing up and down. He gets many jokes about his name. He is a very funny man.

He’s not so funny now, Petros, he said grimly. He’s holding your restaurant hostage. Daniel was getting a clearer picture of the kind of man he was dealing with. This whole thing had been planned far in advance. Abraham was not just some coked up junkie with a bad plan for financing his habit. His skills at wiring and explosives were impressive.

Go on out, all of you. Don’t try to be a hero or you’ll get us all killed, Daniel ordered, herding Petros and his twelve employees out to the dining room and placing them with the others.

That done, he checked the restrooms, embarrassing one woman when he waited for her to come out of the stall. He found two men in the men’s restroom and got them out after explaining the situation to them.

That’s everyone, he told Abraham, waiting to see what the man would do next.

Good, Abraham said. "Now use your cell phone to call your station and tell them what’s happening. Be sure they know to keep away from the restaurant. I’ve built redundancies all the way around. They might find and deactivate one part of the system, but if they do, they’ll activate another. The bombs will detonate if the power is deactivated, so messing with the electricity won’t help. If I were you, I would make sure they didn’t test my word on that. It could get messy. So, go ahead. Call ’em. We don’t want cops coming in here and