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Keller thought it over "There is one thing," he said at length
"I’ht Griffey was all ears, and ht have flown if he’d been able to flap theure out the absolute maximum the collection is worth to you," he told the man "The most you can pay and still make your employers happy"
"And?"
"And that’s your bid," Keller said "Write it down and seal the envelope If it’s higher than either of the others, you win"
The address Dot had furnished was on Arapahoe Street, in that part of don Denver known as LoDo Keller wasn’t clear on where the teruess he’d have opted for LOwer DOn, the same way New York’s SoHo and NoHo were NOrth and SOuth of HOuston Street
He prograht about Dot, and how she’d driven all the way to Flagstaff to use a rental co Because if she used her own computer, there’d be an electronic trail you couldn’t rub out
Well, what about his GPS? He’d already punched in the address on Otis Drive, including the precise number of the house that had burned to the foundation And now he’d added another address, the LoDo loft that was hoo up in smoke to draw attention fro in and out of Cheyenne, and he’d be returning his Cheyenne rental car with a GPS showing just where he’d been in Denver
He took the next exit off the interstate, found a place to park, thought the whole thing over The si, he realized, was to take out the Pablo phone, call Dot, and tell her he wanted to scrap the whole thing They had the first payment, and that was plenty Then he could turn the car around and have a ro to have to go to Denver this evening," he’d told Denia, after Marty Roh had delivered his sealed envelope and taken his leave
She’d offered to hold dinner, and he said he wasn’t sure how long his business ht take "Here’s a house key," she said "In case you’re very late But I’ll probably be up, and if you’re back before ten we can dine together"
And if he went back now? The sun wasn’t even down yet, and he’d have to explain how his urgent business engagement had wrapped itself up in no tiested theht--and he told hi the situation
He could delete the Arapahoe Street address, but wouldn’t it still be recorded soet’s history? Probably, and he’d only saddle hi Tricia Heaney’s loft without the patient guidance of the nice GPS lady
He started the car, got back on the road "Recalculating route," the voice said, infinitely patient, and only the slightest bit judgy for deviating from the script, and followed her instructions all the way to LoDo
"You have arrived," she said, and there was the address he wanted, a squat six-story brick building with big industrial-type s
Keller was glad he wasn’t conte looked like a hard structure to burn down
Forty-Three
Keller, returning to Arapahoe Street from where he’d parked the car, re He was si a call on a woman at her residence If she wasn’t hoht opportunity failed to arise, he’d go back to Cheyenne and eat a good dinner
And there was Trish Heaney’s building, right where he’d left it, with a row of buttons next to the less red door Helpful little cards marked each button, and he pressed the one that said HEANEY
Waiting, he re That he’d neither misrepresented himself nor broken any laws
"Yes?"
Just a citizen, ringing a doorbell
"Hello? Who is it?"
"Officer Griffey," he said "Police"
There was a lengthy pause
Well, he’d just broken a law It shouldn’t take too long to drive back to Cheyenne He wouldn’t even need the GPS, although it would probably be sira and infinitely patient voice aiting to guide hiet hiood cook, no question about it, and--
The buzzer sounded He pushed the door open and went on in
The elevator was industrial, but it had been converted to self-service when the building turned residential There’d been a 4 next to the bell marked HEANEY, so he pushed the appropriate button and rode to the fourth floor The elevator door glided open, and there she was, holding a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other
While he hadn’t formed a mental picture of her in advance, it would have been hard to improve on reality Trish Heaney was no more than five foot four, but she made an impression She heat-colored jeans and a fuzzy pink sweater, both garht on anyone asn’t severely anorexic, but most women who could have squeezed themselves into the jeans would have found the sweater a loose fit
And that ht, before so nip-and-tuck artist had put her in competition with Dolly Parton The result was i than the vivid red hue of her upswept hair She had a butterfly tattoo on her neck, and the Geico gecko inked onto the back of one hand, and enough piercings to put a metal detector on tilt, and God knohat else she had underneath the sweater and jeans
"You’re a cop," she said "You don’t look like a cop"
"You don’t look like a kindergarten teacher"
"Who said I was--" She broke off, frowned, took a deep drag on her cigarette "That supposed to be a joke? You want to show me some ID?"
"I could," he said