Lying Eyes Read online

  "You volunteered?"

  He shrugged. "The Captain gave a select group of officers the chance to volunteer for this assignment. He wanted a team willing to stay alert all weekend."

  "I'm glad you're here. You're like the voice of reason shouting in the wilderness. Thank Heaven Carlo listens to you," she said, patting his arm. "It's a drag, isn't it? I've never seen him this uptight."

  "I heard that," Carlo said in her ear.

  "Bug off, Carlo. We're having a private conversation."

  Hanson chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to monopolize your time."

  "No, you haven't. You aren't. Carlo is just being Carlo. What do you see when you gaze into his eyes?"

  "I try not to," he said, and added, "When I do, I see a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I don't know how he bears all the stress."

  "What does he do for fun?"

  "Fun? I don't think he knows the word. Eating pizza at an NBA playoff game is the closest he ever comes to having fun."

  "Time for Hanson to move on," Carlo said in her ear.

  Allison said through gritted teeth, "See. Even when he's not around, he's directing my life."

  Hanson laughed as he stood. "Better him than the perp."

  "True. Thanks for letting me vent for a few minutes. See you around."

  Allison opened the Karen Robards' novel, but hadn't read more than one page when Susan slumped beside her on the sofa and asked, "How was your breakfast?"

  "Uneventful, darn it. I'd like to get this show on the road."

  "You and me both. Any idea how long I'm supposed to sit here?"

  "No, but I don't intend to stay here much longer. I need to move around and stretch. Maybe take a potty break."

  "I'll let Carlo know."

  After mumbling something unintelligible into her radio, Susan stood. "Let's go find Marsha. She's heading in this direction."

  Allison grabbed the gym bag at her feet and stood, slowly straightening her back in hopes Carlo was watching, before she stepped away from the sofa and joined Susan's search.

  "Carlo says knock it off. What have you done now that has him so edgy?"

  Allison laughed.

  "Come clean."

  Immensely pleased with herself, Allison grinned as she glanced around, but couldn't spot Carlo. "I've spent the last hour putting on a sensual show guaranteed to drive the detective to distraction."

  "You didn't."

  "Sure I did. I had nothing better to do." Allison started walking again and suddenly stopped. "Whoa."

  "What's wrong?"

  "I could swear I saw Sergeant Knox get in the elevator with that stocky man again."

  "What stocky man?" Carlo growled in her ear.

  "The same one he was arguing with yesterday. Do you think it's important?"

  "Unlikely, but you should have mentioned this sooner. What else have you forgotten to relay?"

  "Oh, for crying out loud, Carlo. Get over yourself." Allison turned to her companions. "Carlo can—Oh, never mind. Let's get a move on. I need to—"

  "Right. Here's Marsha."

  "Stay alert, team," Susan said into her radio. "Norcross, Daniels, and Marble are heading for the ladies’ room."

  She and Marsha turned down the west hall. Susan brought up the rear. "Carlo says don't let go of the gym bag."

  "How am I supposed to—? Forget it. He's the most nervous Nelly I've ever met."

  Susan followed them into the ladies’ room.

  "I knew it," Marsha said. "You and Carlo did the deed?"

  "What deed?"

  "You crossed the police tape. Last night? Or this morning?"

  Allison's cheeks flushed. "Right on both counts. How did you know?"

  "He didn't bite my head off for not waking when the perp came to your door. How was it?"

  Susan poked Marsha in the ribs. "It was Carlo. How do you think it was? Nice girls don't tell."

  Marsha gave Allison a tight hug. "You lucky dog."

  As she stepped out of the ladies’ room, Allison caught a glimpse of Carlo for the first time in an hour. He was on the phone, his expression grim.

  This is definitely wearing on his nerves.

  Chapter Eighteen

  "Detective Demetri, you're needed in the Security Office," a gruff voice on his cell phone said.

  "Who is this?"

  Damn. The line went dead.

  *****

  Preparing to leave her alone, Susan gave Allison a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  Allison settled back against the sofa cushions in the lobby, vowing to stop teasing the detective with her sensual gymnastics.

  "Carlo was called to Security. Hanson is coming to relieve me. Hang in there."

  As Susan strolled off Allison dropped the gym bag to the floor where it wouldn't cause anyone to stumble, and leaned back again.

  Hanson stood at the far end of the hall talking to someone she couldn't see. Bored, Allison reached in her purse for her nail file.

  Something cold and hard poked her in the ribs, making her heart race. Carlo?

  A stranger sank onto the seat beside her.

  I doubt Carlo expects his undercover agents to sit this close.

  Hotel Security?

  Prepared to tell the officer to move over, she turned to him.

  A pair of dark beady eyes set in a scowling, tanned face squinted back at her.

  Uh oh. The same man who grabbed me at the ice machine.

  "Do exactly as I say," the man murmured, glaring at her. "Understand? And don't even think about touching that radio."

  She nodded.

  Where are my bodyguards?

  Carlo hadn't mentioned this possibility.

  What would he want me to do?

  She caught Hanson's eye.

  Stay calm, he motioned.

  "No. Do not turn around."

  The hard tip of his gun poked Allison again.

  She nodded.

  "See those stairs leading to the parking garage? Grab the money, stand, and slowly walk to those stairs without attracting attention. I have a .45 rammed in your side and I intend to keep it there. Don't make me use it. Understood?"

  "Yes," she murmured, having no difficulty sounding frightened.

  Much as she'd like to, Allison decided not to do anything to attract attention. If she did, Carlo or one of his team could get shot.

  "Get a move on."

  Grabbing the bag, she stood and cautiously threaded her way through the throng of hotel guests blocking their way.

  "Good girl," the perp muttered shakily. "I may let you live."

  Allison aimed for the staircase and paused.

  "Move," the perp almost shouted.

  He sounded desperate.

  Is that good?

  Allison's legs shook uncontrollably and she switched the gym bag to her left hand so she could slide her right hand along the stair rail to keep from falling.

  Carefully placing her foot on the step, she started down the first flight of stairs.

  As they neared the landing a man's voice shouted, "Police. Stop. Right. There."

  Carlo. Thank God.

  The perp whirled and fired three quick shots, making Allison's ears ring.

  Before she thought to scream, he reached for her again.

  She ducked out of his reach as Carlo aimed and fired at the off-balanced perp.

  The bullet whizzed past them.

  Carlo crumpled to the floor.

  Allison screamed.

  Startled, the perp tottered on the step below her.

  Gripping both handles of the gym bag she swung it in a wide arc, smacking the perp's forehead with a satisfying thump.

  Shrieking, he tumbled head first down the next flight of stairs.

  Screaming, "Carlo," Allison fled back up the stairs.

  Her heart raced.

  Carlo isn't moving.

  Then she noticed the growing stain on his pants leg.

  Hanson and a security guard charged down th
e stairs. Susan and Marsha kneeled at Carlo's side.

  "Are you hurt, Allison?" Hanson asked as he raced by, his gun leveled on the perp.

  "No, but Carlo is," she shouted, frantic to reach him.

  "An ambulance is on the way," Susan assured her, checking Carlo's pulse as Marsha pressed one palm hard against a wound in his right thigh, the other firmly against the growing stain below his other knee.

  Susan unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his belt.

  "Allison, I need you to apply pressure to the exit wound in Carlo's thigh," Marsha ordered.

  Allison dropped the gym bag and knelt beside her.

  Forget about the growing pool of Carlo's blood.

  "Here," Marsha said, scooting out of her way. "Press the palm of your hand firmly against this other wound in Carlo's thigh and keep pressure on it until the medics arrive."

  "Hey, Demetri," Hanson called, yanking the handcuffed perp to his feet. "Aren't you looking for a suspect with a tattoo of a knife on his right hand? We just bagged one."

  "Good job, Detective," Allison said, smiling at Carlo in spite of her fear.

  "Don't congratulate me. You and Hanson caught him," Carlo muttered as his eyes began to roll back in his head. "I failed again."

  "Stay with us, Carlo," Alison begged, caressing his ghostly cheek with her free hand. "Failed what?"

  "Failed... to keep you safe."

  *****

  We'll take over," an Emergency Medical Technician said, tapping Allison on the shoulder. "What happened?"

  "Multiple gunshot wounds in the legs. Exit wound in the right thigh. Pulse faint," Susan said, moving out of his way.

  A second EMT arrived and sank to his knees beside Marsha. He dropped the equipment bags he'd carried in and began ripping the packaging off sterile bandages and handing them to the first EMT.

  He cut off Carlo's pants legs and slapped a bandage on the entry wound on Carlo's right thigh and his left calf and turned to Allison.

  Reluctantly, she scooted over, making room for him. "Will he be all right?" she asked as he slapped a bandage on the exit wound.

  "He's lost a lot of blood. We'll do our best."

  Despite her bloody hands, Allison gathered Susan and Marsha in her arms for a prayerful hug.

  Long minutes passed before two IV's began flowing into Carlo's arms and the first EMT on the site announced, "Ready to transport."

  The EMTs efficiently pushed the stretcher toward the ambulance parked where the tour buses boarded.

  "Where are you taking him?" Allison asked, glancing askance at the dark pool of Carlo's blood and abandoned packaging now littering a wide expanse of the hotel lobby.

  "City of Angels," the tallest EMT said as he hurried past.

  Susan said, "Come on, I'll drive. I don't think the Captain will object to all three of us going to the hospital with Carlo."

  They took the elevator to the parking garage.

  "Guess I don't need to haul this around anymore," Allison said, tossing the cumbersome gym bag to the floorboard as she climbed into the back seat of Susan's SUV.

  "I'll let the Captain know what's happened while you drive," Marsha said as Susan backed out of her parking space.

  Allison yanked out her phone and called the hotel desk. "This is Allison Marble in room 510. My plans have changed. I won't be checking out today after all. Please have the luggage I had you hold returned to my room."

  No way am I leaving town until I know Carlo will be okay.

  *****

  By the time Allison returned from washing her bloody hands, Carlo's casually dressed co-workers, uniformed officers, and friends had crowded the hospital waiting room.

  Captain Samson had arrived and Detective Aiken was filling him in. She joined the circle around them to listen, but didn't interrupt.

  "From what I was told, Hanson made the arrest, thanks to Miss Marble's help. I heard Hanson read him his rights and now both are on the way to Central for booking."

  "Was the perp hurt?"

  "No, just stunned from his fall. I had the second pair of EMTs on scene check him out before they left the scene."

  "Are any of our officers still at the hotel?"

  "The evidence team, a photographer, and Radisson from Internal Affairs."

  "Carlo got off a shot?"

  "Yes, as he slumped to the floor. The perp ducked and Carlo's round lodged in the wall of the stairwell. Radisson confiscated Carlo's gun. The perp squeezed off at least three shots before Miss Marble put a sizeable knot on his forehead with the gym bag. He took a tumble, head first."

  Nodding, the Captain turned to Allison. "You've had a busy morning. Are you all right?"

  "I will be as soon as my ears stop ringing."

  "I understand three or four shots were fired in an enclosed concrete stairwell, so it may take a while for your hearing to return to normal."

  "How is Carlo?" I sound like I've fallen in a well.

  "He's on his way to surgery in critical condition, thanks to the bleeding. Susan and Marsha and a number of Carlo's many friends are donating blood. I'm next."

  "I could—"

  "Not a good idea. You're still in shock. I hear congratulations are in order. What did you use to hit the perp?"

  "This bag of pretend money."

  "A bag of shredded paper sent him tumbling?"

  "I stuffed my running shoes inside to give the bag more weight. They are my favorite shoes and the reason I'm still lugging this bag around."

  *****

  An intern wearing a blue skull cap came out of the emergency room and walked toward them. "Anyone here for Carlo Demetri?"

  Three-fourths of the crowd in the waiting room promptly surrounded him.

  He blinked. "The detective is having emergency surgery. The next twenty-fours will be critical to his recovery."

  "Any chance he'll lose a leg?" the Captain asked.

  "Probably not. The left leg suffered the most damage. They're trying to repair it now. If you want to wait, you'll be more comfortable in the surgical waiting room. Once the surgery is complete, the surgeon will come out and update the detective's prognosis."

  Allison followed the solemn crowd to the waiting room where coffee and light snacks awaited them. She poured a cup and found a quiet place to sit and call her boss.

  "Hi, Larry," she said once he answered. "I need to stay in LA for a few more days."

  After listening impatiently to Larry's rant, she said, "I know, but it can't be helped. I don't have time to explain now, but I will as soon as I get back in town."

  She ended the call and placed another. As soon as her mom answered, Allison burst into tears.

  Several long moments of silence ensued before she was able to say, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much I needed to hear your voice."

  "What's happened, sweetie? Where are you? Are you all right?"

  "Still in LA, and yes, I'm all right, but a... close friend has been shot. Someone I just met. He's still in surgery."

  "Dear God. How did it happen?"

  "It's too long a story to go into right now, but he needs your prayers."

  "That's a given. What's his name? I'll put my prayer group on it right away."

  "Detective Carlo—" The name choked in her throat. "Detective Demetri. He was shot trying to keep me safe."

  Chapter Nineteen

  The nurses changed shifts, the crowd in the waiting room thinned, and Allison stood for the first time in hours.

  My feet hurt. My head, too, but there's no way I'm leaving this hospital until I know Carlo is out of danger.

  A dark haired, pleasantly plump woman hurried across the room. She tried to smile at Allison but her lips trembled instead.

  This must be Carlo's mother. She has his shining eyes.

  "Mrs. Demetri?" Allison cautiously asked.

  "Yes?"

  "I'm Allison Marble. I was with Carlo when he was... hurt."

  "How bad is it? A nurse called. I was too frightened to ask."

&nbs
p; "Carlo's in great physical shape. He should have no trouble pulling through this, the Captain says."

  "I was told in the lobby that I'd just missed him, Miss Marble."

  "Allison, please. And yes, Captain Samson will be updating the public about the shooting at a news conference in about an hour."

  "How do you know my son? Carlo didn't... Please tell me everything that happened. Maybe I can stop shaking, once I know. Traffic over the mountain from the San Fernando Valley slowed to twenty miles an hour. I didn't think I'd ever get here. If Carlo—"

  "He'll be fine. We met by accident at Union Station on Thursday and shared a taxi to the Caprice Hotel where the writers' conference we were both attending was being held. Carlo... befriended me."

  "When my son told me he was giving a weapons workshop for a bunch of writers he sounded amused. Is that how he got shot?"

  "No, Mrs. Demetri. His audience loved him. You would have been proud."

  She smiled faintly. "You were there? And please, call me Angela. Everyone does."

  "Yes, I was. Carlo has hardly been out of my sight this entire weekend."

  "He called me from his hotel, but he didn't say anything about having a girlfriend with him."

  Allison shook her head. "Not a girlfriend. A friend. We've been working together to solve a mystery at the hotel. It finally came to a head this morning and—"

  "—Carlo was shot." Tears welled in Angela's pretty eyes.

  "Yes, a drug dealer holding a gun to my ribs was forcing me to go with him to the parking garage. That's where your son confronted him, on the stairs. Carlo didn't shoot right away. I think he was afraid I'd be hit. The shooter got off three shots and hit Carlo twice in the legs."

  Angela's eyes widened. "Dear God. How did you get away?"

  "In all the commotion, the shooter lost his balance and fell."

  "Carlo...?"

  "Saved my life, but one of the bullets he took severed an artery in his thigh. He... lost a lot of blood."

  "The nurse said he was in surgery—"

  "Yes, but he should be out soon. An hour ago a nurse reported the surgeon was almost through."

  Angela's tense shoulders relaxed. "Thank God."

  A doctor wearing rumpled green scrubs entered the room and crossed to them. "Are you Detective Demetri's family?"

  "This is his mother," Allison said, taking Angela's hand.

  "Good. I'm Doctor Hilstrom. Your son is going to be fine. He lost a lot of blood before and during the surgery but we successfully repaired the artery, stitched his right thigh and removed a shattered round from his left calf. I suspect it will be needed as evidence. I'll leave it at the nurses' station on the surgical floor for someone to give to Captain Samson. His left leg sustained the most damage and your son will be immobilized for a while, but with time I expect a full recovery."