R is for Ricochet (Kinsey Millhone 18)

"You need a medic?"

"Look at that. I'm bleeding to death."

The nick on her index finger was a quarter of an inch long and she studied it with a frown. "Anyway, bet you dollars to donuts the friggin' room is right there. Press your ear to the wall and see if you can hear anything. Minute ago I heard a humming. Like machinery."

"Reba, that's the elevator shaft. You probably caught the sound of the service elevator going down."

"Not from this floor. We're the only ones up here."

"But we can't be the only people in the building. The elevator equipment is right above us. Of course you'd hear it."

"You think?"

"Let's try the obvious and check it out," I said.

She followed me around the corner where the service elevator was located. From the digital readout on the wall, we could track the car going down, the number changing from 1 to G.

"Told you," I said, and then glanced at my watch. "Shit. We better get out of here before Willard gets anxious and comes looking for us. I can't believe the nonsense you laid on him. Talk about maneuvering."

"I thought I did great… though that begging and pleading shit is only good for limited use. The next time we want in, I'll have to screw the guy for sure."

"You're making a joke, right?"

"Don't be such a prude. Screw one guy, you've screwed ' em all. You're only a virgin once, and after that, you might as well reap the benefits. Besides, I wouldn't mind. I think he's cute." Her gaze was raking the wall again and I could tell she was still speculating about the missing space. She said, "Maybe you get in by way of the roof. Through that little building that looks like a gardener's shack."

"Skip it. We don't have time. Let's get out of here."

"You're such a worrywart," she said, taking out Onni's key ring. "Just give me a second to return these, okay? I'm trying to be a good citizen."

"What about Beck's phony docs."

"Right. I got 'em right here," she said, patting her jacket pocket. She took the hem of her shirt and began cleaning fingerprints from the keys. "Wiping off the prints," she said. "In case they ever dust."

"Just get on with it."

She walked down the hall to Onni's office – not nearly fast enough for my taste – and disappeared from sight. I checked my watch again. We'd been up here twelve minutes. How long was it supposed to take us to find my shoulder bag? By now Willard would be out from behind his desk and on his way up. Reba took her time returning and when she finally appeared, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, instead of getting on the elevator as anticipated, she returned to the alcove where the service elevator was located and stood there staring at it.

"What are you doing?"

"I just figured it out. Hot damn." She reached out and pressed the button, calling the service elevator to the fourth floor. As we watched the digital readout, the elevator began its slow and dutiful climb. Eventually the doors opened. She reached in and pressed Stop Run, then entered the service elevator with me close behind her. The space was twice the width and half again as long as an ordinary elevator, apparently to accommodate moving boxes, file cabinets, and oversize office equipment. The walls were hung with quilted gray fabric like the blankets movers use to protect furniture.

Reba moved to the wall opposite the elevator doors and pulled the padding aside to reveal a second set of elevator doors. On a wall-mounted panel to the right of them, there was a nine-digit keypad. She studied it for a moment and then raised a tentative hand.

"You know the code?"

"Maybe. I'll tell you in a minute."

"Guess wrong and won't you set off the alarm?"

"Oh, come on. It's like a fairy tale – you get three tries before the thing goes berserk. If I blow it, we'll tell Willie we made a wee mistake."

"Just leave it for now. You're really pushing your luck."

She ignored me, of course. "I know it's not going to be his birth date – even Beck wouldn't be dumb enough to use that again. But it might be a variation. He's a narcissist. Everything he does relates to him."

"Reba…"

She flashed a look at me. "If you'd quit whining and help me out we can get on with it and be on our way. I can't pass this up. It may be the only chance we have."

I rolled my eyes, trying to control my panic, which was already accelerating. She wasn't going to budge until we figured it out or got caught. I said, "Shit. Try the same date backwards."