Point Blank
Page 80
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Savich punched off the phone. “Cops are on their way to Moses’s location. You were right, it is a restaurant, a Denny’s. We’ll know soon if they arrived in time. It sounded like Moses didn’t know she was using his new phone. You can bet they headed right out.” Savich sighed.
Sherlock gave him a long look. “You didn’t tell me Claudia plans to screw your brains out.”
“She’s certifiable, and what makes it worse is that she’s so young. Why would I tell you something that disturbing?”
“Marlin Jones was disturbing, Tyler McBride was disturbing, Günter Grass was disturbing. But Claudia? I feel sorry for her, because of her age. But you should have told me.”
“You feel sorry? She and Moses dug out Elsa Bender’s eyes, Sherlock. She helped pose Pinky’s body over that skeleton at Arlington National Cemetery. She’s a psychopath. The thought of her anywhere near you scares the sin out of me. There was no reason to tell you about their ridiculous fantasies. You shouldn’t have talked to her, Sherlock. It was unprofessional.”
“Unprofessional? Me? This ought to be good. Do tell me what you mean, Dillon.”
“First of all, you answered my phone, knowing full well it could be Moses. That phone is our only link to him, and you should have asked me first. At the very least, you should have given me the phone when I stepped out of the shower.”
“I happen to be a Federal agent who’s on the case with you. You could treat me like a partner, like I’m someone you respect as a fellow agent. Hey, on a good day, maybe even all of the above.”
“Dump the sarcasm. Of course we’re partners. Well, actually, I’m your boss, and I’m your husband.”
Whenever she got angry, Sherlock’s face turned as red as her hair. She could feel the heat rising from her neck, that miserable red stain creeping over her skin, and that made her even angrier because she knew he could see it. “Oh, you want to protect the helpless little wife? The meek little thing who should keep her precious ears unsullied by prurient threats from a crazy teenager?”
“Stop, Sherlock, and listen to me. You are my wife and I would protect you with my life.”
“And you’re my husband, you moron, I’d protect you with my life, too. What does that have to do with this?”
“Because you enraged her, you baited her, and you have her promising to come after you. How could you do that? I can’t believe you would pull something like that without discussing it with me first.”
“Oh, I see. I was to say, ‘Excuse me, Claudia, but I’ve got to ask my husband what to say before we talk.’ That is so infuriating.” She shoved him hard on his bare chest, muttering under her breath, “The old double standard. That garbage coming out of your mouth burns me, Dillon. Stop being a macho ass.”
“Well, if I’m a macho ass, you’re just going to have to live with it.” He gave her a look of frustrated dislike, then stomped back into the bathroom.
She yelled through the door, “Because I’m a good cop, I goaded her into telling us about her mother, how she hooked up with Moses. You were listening, boss. And I would have kept her talking longer if Moses hadn’t grabbed the phone from her.”
Towel wrapped around his waist, Savich stomped back through the door, stopped right in front of her, and crossed his arms over his chest. He was doing it because he knew he looked tough and intimidating, something he was very good at. “I never said you weren’t a good cop, but you crossed the line on this one. This was an ill-advised stunt. I’m saying that as your boss, so suck it up. Let’s get dressed and get to work.”
She fluttered her hands. “Goodness, do you think I can manage that without fainting dead away? Maybe I should have a glass of water first, put my head between my knees, maybe call Dix so the two of you muscle-bound yahoos can go out and chop some wood while you decide what to do.”
He dashed his hand through his wet hair. “This is ridiculous. Sherlock, close it down or I’ll beat your butt.”
She assumed a martial arts position and beckoned him with her fingers. “This is no time to mess with me, macho boy. Try it and I’ll flatten you.”
She was wearing a thick oversized hotel bathrobe, wrapped nearly twice around her. Her feet were bare and her hair curled wildly around her head. Her face was red with rage. And she wanted to fight him. How had it come to this? He laughed even as he wrapped his arms around her waist, threw her over his shoulder, and tossed her onto the bed. He fell on top of her, pulled her arms over her head, and held her down.
Sherlock gave him a long look. “You didn’t tell me Claudia plans to screw your brains out.”
“She’s certifiable, and what makes it worse is that she’s so young. Why would I tell you something that disturbing?”
“Marlin Jones was disturbing, Tyler McBride was disturbing, Günter Grass was disturbing. But Claudia? I feel sorry for her, because of her age. But you should have told me.”
“You feel sorry? She and Moses dug out Elsa Bender’s eyes, Sherlock. She helped pose Pinky’s body over that skeleton at Arlington National Cemetery. She’s a psychopath. The thought of her anywhere near you scares the sin out of me. There was no reason to tell you about their ridiculous fantasies. You shouldn’t have talked to her, Sherlock. It was unprofessional.”
“Unprofessional? Me? This ought to be good. Do tell me what you mean, Dillon.”
“First of all, you answered my phone, knowing full well it could be Moses. That phone is our only link to him, and you should have asked me first. At the very least, you should have given me the phone when I stepped out of the shower.”
“I happen to be a Federal agent who’s on the case with you. You could treat me like a partner, like I’m someone you respect as a fellow agent. Hey, on a good day, maybe even all of the above.”
“Dump the sarcasm. Of course we’re partners. Well, actually, I’m your boss, and I’m your husband.”
Whenever she got angry, Sherlock’s face turned as red as her hair. She could feel the heat rising from her neck, that miserable red stain creeping over her skin, and that made her even angrier because she knew he could see it. “Oh, you want to protect the helpless little wife? The meek little thing who should keep her precious ears unsullied by prurient threats from a crazy teenager?”
“Stop, Sherlock, and listen to me. You are my wife and I would protect you with my life.”
“And you’re my husband, you moron, I’d protect you with my life, too. What does that have to do with this?”
“Because you enraged her, you baited her, and you have her promising to come after you. How could you do that? I can’t believe you would pull something like that without discussing it with me first.”
“Oh, I see. I was to say, ‘Excuse me, Claudia, but I’ve got to ask my husband what to say before we talk.’ That is so infuriating.” She shoved him hard on his bare chest, muttering under her breath, “The old double standard. That garbage coming out of your mouth burns me, Dillon. Stop being a macho ass.”
“Well, if I’m a macho ass, you’re just going to have to live with it.” He gave her a look of frustrated dislike, then stomped back into the bathroom.
She yelled through the door, “Because I’m a good cop, I goaded her into telling us about her mother, how she hooked up with Moses. You were listening, boss. And I would have kept her talking longer if Moses hadn’t grabbed the phone from her.”
Towel wrapped around his waist, Savich stomped back through the door, stopped right in front of her, and crossed his arms over his chest. He was doing it because he knew he looked tough and intimidating, something he was very good at. “I never said you weren’t a good cop, but you crossed the line on this one. This was an ill-advised stunt. I’m saying that as your boss, so suck it up. Let’s get dressed and get to work.”
She fluttered her hands. “Goodness, do you think I can manage that without fainting dead away? Maybe I should have a glass of water first, put my head between my knees, maybe call Dix so the two of you muscle-bound yahoos can go out and chop some wood while you decide what to do.”
He dashed his hand through his wet hair. “This is ridiculous. Sherlock, close it down or I’ll beat your butt.”
She assumed a martial arts position and beckoned him with her fingers. “This is no time to mess with me, macho boy. Try it and I’ll flatten you.”
She was wearing a thick oversized hotel bathrobe, wrapped nearly twice around her. Her feet were bare and her hair curled wildly around her head. Her face was red with rage. And she wanted to fight him. How had it come to this? He laughed even as he wrapped his arms around her waist, threw her over his shoulder, and tossed her onto the bed. He fell on top of her, pulled her arms over her head, and held her down.
