“You’ll get the whole shot in a few minutes. Tag Feeney. I need an e-man, and now. Bullpen.”
As Peabody made contact, Eve stuck her hands in her pockets.
She believed in the system, but sometimes the system needed a kick in the ass.
“It’ll take some time for them to deal with the paperwork, then he’ll need to come here, get his stuff, then get to the penthouse. She’ll be with him every step for that.”
“If she’s going to help him run, why go to the penthouse at all? And yeah, she’s going to help him run,” Peabody added. “But they’ll have to ditch the tracker.”
“That’s why the penthouse first.”
“I won’t say they’re a hundred percent effective,” Reo began. “Nothing is. But they’re damn close.”
“That much money buys expertise. How about the lawyers? Would they conspire on this for a big, fat payday?”
Reo didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely not. They’ve earned their reputation, and this would ruin them.”
“Good. I didn’t think so.”
She hopped off the glides and strode straight into the bullpen.
“Court,” Baxter said, gesturing at Jenkinson and Reineke’s empty desk. Then at Carmichael’s and Santiago’s. “Follow-up. On their way back.”
She decided the hell with a conference room.
“You and Trueheart, soft clothes. Officer Carmichael! Pick two officers. I want you and them on surveillance. Visibly on surveillance. Peabody, give them printouts of Ebersole and Harper’s ID shots. I want you seen. I want you obvious.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The woman comes and goes as she pleases. If you spot or believe you spot Ebersole leaving the building, contact me. Do not move on him.”
“How’s he going anywhere?” Baxter demanded. “He’s in custody.”
“He made bail.”
“What the—”
She cut Baxter off with a look. “Soft clothes,” she repeated. “I don’t want you seen. You’re fucking invisible. If you see or believe you see Ebersole, contact me. Do not move in. Follow. Be prepared to follow a vehicle.”
“Sir, Lieutenant,” Trueheart said. “They didn’t let him out without a tracker. I mean, with all we had.”
“They didn’t, but he won’t be wearing it when he leaves the building. And he will leave the building. If they have to exit the building on foot, they won’t leave together—she’ll go out first. He’ll be disguised. He’ll either have a car waiting, or walk a short distance to where a car’s waiting—with her in it.”
She shook her head. “Watch for that, but they’ll have a better way.”
When Feeney walked in, face stony with anger, she nodded. “I feel the same, but we need to set this up fast. Use Peabody’s unit, and get this on-screen.”
She handed him a disc.
“The better way. The building has underground parking. The slickest way out for him, use the penthouse’s private elevator all the way down to the waiting car. Has to be a car, as the building doesn’t have roof access for air vehicles.”
“How’d you get all this so fast?” Feeney asked as he studied the blueprints on-screen.
“Some help from the consultant. I’d like McNab, or whoever you assign, to ride with Baxter. I want to know how many people are in the penthouse at all times.”
“I’ll get you McNab.”
“Good. The Harpers have a private airstrip in their compound upstate, but that’s a long way to go, and they’re in a hurry. We factor for that, and we have a jet-copter and pilot on call, but best bet is private shuttle. Bring up the map on there, Feeney.”
