Keeper by Greg Rucka Read Free Book Online

of them made me think of a bridal fitting, but I kept that observation to myself.
    “I hate this thing,” Dr. Romero told me as she slipped her coat back on over the vest. “As if it’s not hot enough out there already.”
    “You’ll love that thing when it stops a bullet.” I handed her back her briefcase and the plastic bag she had put her paint-stained clothes in. “You ready?”
    She nodded, and I looked at Natalie, and Natalie nodded. I used my radio and told Dale, “Pogo’s coming out.” The code name had been chosen by Felice herself, and she looked faintly embarrassed every time I said it.
    To Natalie I said, “Go.”
    Natalie went out the door and headed straight to the Ford while I held Romero back in the hall. Natalie opened the car door, then came back into the building, turned around, and now, with Romero close behind her, went back out. I took up the rear, and then we were all in the car, Natalie, Dr. Romero, and myself, a cozy protective sandwich. I closed and locked our door, said, “Charlie,” to Dale, and sat back as he pulled out onto 135th.
    “We did Charlie day before yesterday,” Natalie said, looking out the window.
    Dr. Romero shifted uncomfortably between us.
    “Everybody’s a critic,” I said, and looked out my own window. I’d worked out seven routes for our travel, and each had a call sign, A to G. All of us were absolutely familiar with them. All I had to do was give Dale a letter and he would know which route I wanted to take.
    The routes mattered to me because, in my opinion, cars are death traps. If I’d had the people and the money, there would’ve been four more bodyguards on the road with us, two in a follow car and two in a lead car. All the security professionals I know have a particular paranoia—for some it’s snipers; others, bombs. Mine is ambushes. When I’m not working, it doesn’t bother me, but when I’m on, I’m very careful about avoiding anything that could be used to set up an ambush. And it’s too damn easy to ambush someone in a car.
    “I’m clear on my side,” I said.
    Dale grunted.
    “Clear,” Natalie said.
    “So we’re not being followed?” Dr. Romero asked.
    “We are most definitely not being followed,” Dale told her.
    She sighed and wiped sweat from her forehead. “I don’t suppose that means I can remove the vest?”
    “No,” Natalie said.
    “Dale, you want to put the air conditioner on?” I said.
    He shook his head. “Car’s too heavy. We’ll overheat.”
    I looked at the doctor sympathetically. The ride was hard for her, cramped between both Natalie and me. With the New York humidity, the vest, the tension of the ride, and the rotten day she’d had, she had every reason to get pissy. But she hadn’t yet. She even managed to not smoke in the car, knowing that the windows couldn’t be opened.
    I radioed Rubin, told him we were fifteen minutes out. He said he’d be ready.
    After a moment, Romero said, “I’m melting, I’m melting.”

“Mommy, my mommy’s home,” Katie said, taking the stairs as fast as she could. It wasn’t very fast, honestly, but it was endearing as all get-out to watch. She jumped off the last step and flung her arms around Felice’s waist. “I missed you, come sit with me, I missed you.”
    The Romero apartment was a halfhearted trilevel, and we entered at the bottom, the short flight of carpeted stairs Katie had descended from the main level off to our right, beyond the closet. To the left was a small bathroom, the door open and the light on. Rubin locked the front door behind us and headed back up the stairs with Dale and Natalie while I stood with Dr. Romero.
    Felice kissed Katie on the forehead and said, “In a moment, sweetie. Your mother wants to change first.” She gently stepped out of Katie’s grasp and took off her coat, then the vest. She hung both on the coatrack.
    Katie put her arms around my waist and said, “ ’Cus! I missed you, too, I did.” It was a tight squeeze,