At Any Cost by Cara Ellison Read Free Book Online Page B

scared.”
    â€œWhy did he call you? Had you ever met him before?”
    â€œNo, I never met him and I have no idea why he called me. But I felt strongly that it was a legitimate call, not a hoax or … whatever.”
    â€œSo he called you, said someone was going to kill him, and then he killed himself while we were waiting for him …”
    Fallon shook her head. “He didn’t kill himself,” she said, surprised at the conviction in her voice. The fear in Antoine Campbell’s voice, and barely controlled hysteria, came to her again clearly, clanging in her skull. She’d never forget that sound, however much she would pray to. “I heard his voice. He was desperate for help. He was not suicidal. He said they were going to kill him, that they were chasing him.”
    Tom’s scowling gaze was solidly fixed on her, seemingly with undivided attention. The angular planes of his face made her think of arrogance, but arrogance born from pure, cold competence. She admired that quality. His fair-mindedness was admirable, but it was also frustrating; he was not cheerleading her. The impartial observer was allowing her to figure this out herself, which, she supposed, was the appropriate role of a Secret Service agent assigned to protect her.
    He pressed his fingers to his earpiece, then looked at her. “The limos are ready for you downstairs.”
    The building where Antoine Campbell leaped to his death was adjacent to the Four Seasons Hotel. It was a six-story historic building of red brick and shining windows; a Chase Bank branch occupied the ground floor.
    From the backseat Fallon said, “Stop here, please. I want to walk.”
    The SUV stopped and Tom jumped out, glanced down the street with his Death Glare, then determining there was no immediate threat, opened her door. Fallon stepped out, scanning the front of the building, relieved there was no lurid blood or gore marking Antoine Campbell’s death on the snow-specked sidewalk. In fact, there was no tarp or police tape. Nothing at all remained of the man who had leapt to his death in this very location only seventeen hours previous. It seemed unreal, except for the faintly buzzing sadness in her chest that confirmed it had really happened; he had called; he had pleaded with her to help.
    Fallon proceeded inside and to the elevators.
    â€œMiss Hughes, may I ask what you are hoping to find here?” Tom asked, unerringly polite as always.
    â€œI don’t know.” She nursed an irrational hope she would find a note or something that would confirm Antoine Campbell was crazy and his suicide had nothing whatsoever to do with pernicious people following him, tapping his phone, and some mysterious thing called map of the keys .
    They rode up to the top floor, which was dominated by a glitzy international law firm. Fallon and Tom walked toward the red exit sign at the extremity of the hall. There was no access to the roof. At the other side of the hallway, they were confronted by the same problem: it was impossible to get up to the roof.
    Puzzled, Fallon tossed up her hands. “What in the world?”
    â€œFallon—Miss Hughes—I wasn’t sure at first but now I am. I was on the advance team when the Vice President visited an office in this building two years ago. The blueprint for the building showed there were escape routes on every floor except this one. I remember it because it threw the advance team into havoc trying to figure out how to get him out of the building in case of emergency.”
    Fallon suddenly grinned. “You are so bloody useful.”
    As they exited the elevator one level below, they walked to the end of the hall to the exit sign. Opening the door, Tom presented a narrow metal ladder welded to the wall that led to the sixth floor. Behind that, in a narrow crawlspace, a ladder went all the way to the roof.
    Fallon mused aloud, “How would Antoine Campbell know about a secret