RESIDENT EVIL PIERSHERRY

Chapter 26

AT BRUNCH THE following morning, Collin took a seat in the chair
next to Sherry. Piers had left the table a moment ago to answer his cell
phone.
"So," Collin said, getting comfortable.
Sherry set down her forkful of blueberry pancakes, ready to begin.
"So."
Collin started things off with some not-so-subtle innuendo. "You look
tired this morning," he said with a pointed look in the direction of Piers, who
stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows while talking on his phone.
"You look pretty beat yourself," Sherry replied, nodding toward
Richard, who had made his way over to Amy and Aaron's table to offer his
congratulations.
"We were up all night, talking things through. That's it," Collin said.
"Oh. Well, I can't say the same thing."
"Alrighty then. About time. Let's hear it."
Sherry opened her mouth to answer--of course she'd tell Collin
about her night with Piers, she told Collin everything--then . . .
Nothing. She hesitated for a moment longer before shutting her mouth
with merely a smile.
"That good, huh?" Collin said with a laugh.
Sherry blushed and waved this off. "Tell me how things went with
Richard. Did you guys work things out?"
"There's some fine-tuning that still needs to be done, but I think we're
going to try moving back in together."
Sherry was happy for him. If working things out with Richard was
what Collin wanted, that's what she wanted, too. "So did you make him do
some major groveling?"
"I didn't have to. He said plenty on his own--all I had to do was listen."
From their table, she and Collin watched as Richard shook Aaron's
hand and hugged Amy. A few feet away, by the windows, Piers finished his
call and made another, keeping one protective eye on Sherry at all times. He winked at her, and she smiled.
"You are so smitten," Collin said.
Two things happened then, in response to Collin's comment. First,
Sherry realized just how right he was. Second, her thoughts turned
strangely serious. Or, in light of current events, perhaps not so strangely.
As long as she was in danger with this investigation, Piers was, too.
And everyone else close to her. Collin had already been hurt--what if
something had happened at the wedding, to him again, or to Amy? She
trusted Piers--and the FBI in general--to keep them all safe, but still. As long
as Mandy Robards's killer was out there, she would always have a sense of
dread hanging over her.
It was the FBI's investigation, and she would do whatever they told her
to. But she'd been working an idea in the back of her mind, something that
could possibly speed things along. For all their sakes.
Piers finished his call and came back to their table.
"How are the pancakes?" he asked as he took his seat.
"Delicious. How did your call go?"
"The security system at your house is set up and ready to go. Which
makes me feel a lot better about being there." Piers grabbed his fork and
stole a bite of pancake from her plate. "You're right. These are good."
His comments about the security system got Sherry thinking. "You
know, having seen you in action this weekend, I'm surprised you felt
comfortable being down the hallway from me that first night. While we've
been here, you haven't let me out of your sight for more than a half hour."
She caught the look on Piers's face. "What?"
"In the interest of full disclosure . . . I didn't let you out of my sight that
night. I slept on your floor. Actually, more like against your wall." He mistook
her silence. "I didn't say anything because I was trying not to scare you."
She shook her head. "No, I get it. I just . . . didn't realize you had done
that for me."
Piers lowered his voice so Collin couldn't hear. "Don't look so serious.
Trust me--you more than made up for it last night."
Sherry put on a smile, not wanting to ruin the mood. "Sorry. I'll just
be glad when this investigation is over."
"It will be soon. I promise," Piers said.
She nodded in agreement.
Particularly if she had anything to say about it.
THEY GOT ON the road shortly after the brunch. Sherry wasn't
eager to tempt fate--the entire weekend had been wonderful, and she
wanted to keep it that way.
She had a lot of time to think during the drive home. She had some
thoughts on a possible next step in the Robards investigation, but she didn't
want to bring it up until they were back at her house. After Piers confirmed
that the security system was working, and after they had settled in and
unpacked from the wedding, she was hoping the two of them could sit down
and talk through her idea. She had a feeling Piers wasn't going to be
particularly receptive, at least not at first.
With the shorter fall days, it was just beginning to turn dark outside
when Piers pulled the car into her garage. He told her to wait in the car while
he checked to make sure the backyard was safe. Then he came back,
grabbed their suitcases, deposited them at the back door, and escorted her
to the house.
Coming out of her garage, Sherry noticed the new French doors on
her upstairs balcony. "They look just like the old ones," she observed.
"I had our security team put them in over the weekend. We needed
them with the new alarm system."
Piers unlocked the back door, left her standing outside for a few
moments, then gestured for her to enter. To her, everything felt quiet and
secure, but she followed him from room to room as he checked the house,
waiting for him to confirm this.
"We're good," he finally said after finishing up with the third and last
floor.
Sherry breathed easier after that, and even more so when Piers
brought her over to the security keypad next to the door that led to the
rooftop deck.
He pushed a few buttons on the keypad, then showed her how it
worked. "We've got alarms on all the doors and windows, and glass-break
sensors on every floor. You can arm the entire house by pushing this button
right here. You should see this red light come on, and then you know you're good to go. You should always have the system armed. I've programmed in
a short delay--you'll only have ten seconds after you enter the house to
disarm the system before the alarm goes off. The security team put panels
next to all the doors, so that should give you enough time. To disarm the
alarm, you just enter the security code."
"What's the code?" she asked.
"You pick--any four-character combination that's easy to remember.
Not your birthday or anything obvious like that."
He watched as she entered the code. "What's five-two-two-five?"
"It spells 'Piers' on the keypad. Should be easy enough to remember."
They headed back downstairs to the main floor. Piers had left her
suitcase in the foyer, and Sherry grabbed it to bring it up to her bedroom to
unpack.
Piers's arms came around her and turned her to face him. "Do you want
to talk about whatever has been bothering you all afternoon?" His eyes
searched hers carefully. "You were quiet during the car ride."
Of course he would pick up on that. "There is something I want to talk
to you about," she admitted. "But I thought maybe we could get settled in
first." She saw the stubborn set to his jaw. "I'm guessing you're not so keen
on that plan."
He took her by the hand and led her through the kitchen and into the
great room. "Good guess." He gestured for her to take a seat on the couch.
"How come every time we have one of these conversations, I feel like I
should be in a room with a two-way mirror and a bright light shining in my
face?"
"Then I'll spare you the usual interrogation tactics and get right down to
it," Piers said. "Is it us?"
"Is what us?"
"Whatever's bothering you--is it about us?"
Sherry looked at him strangely. "Of course not--this was probably
the most incredible weekend of my life. Why would I suddenly have a
problem with us?"
She saw the tension drain out of Piers's face. He took a seat on the
couch next to her. "Oh. Good." He grinned and threw his arm along the back
of the couch, getting comfortable. "Me, too, you know. The most incredible weekend part."
"But you're still not going to like what I have to say."
Glowering ensued.
"Do I get the bright light now?" Sherry asked teasingly.
"I think I might skip the light and go straight to that paper clip technique
we discussed earlier if you don't start talking."
"Just promise me that you'll consider everything I have to say before
you answer."
Piers looked her over with his dark, predatory eyes. "All right," he finally
agreed.
Sherry tucked her knees underneath her. "I'm obviously very
worried about the Robards investigation. This is a strain on me, on you, and
it puts everyone I know at risk. I know your team is doing all they can, but
nobody's come up with anything so far."
She could tell from the way Piers's jaw twitched that he didn't like being
reminded of this.
"I hate that the ball is all in this asshole's court, and that I pretty much
just have to sit here and wonder if he's going to come after me again."
Sherry could tell from Piers's expression that he liked being
reminded of that even less.
"But maybe there's a way we can control the situation," she said.
"How do you propose we do that?" Piers asked.
"That's what I was thinking about in the car. And I might've come up
with something. We figured out that there's a leak--perhaps we can use that
to our advantage. We know that the killer knew how to avoid the hotel
cameras. But what if we spread the word that you guys have identified a
guest who was using a camcorder in the Peninsula that evening--maybe for
a vacation or a bachelor party, something like that. You let it be known that
this guest caught on tape a man wearing a gray hooded T-shirt, blazer, and
jeans, exiting the hotel shortly after Mandy's murder. You say that the FBI
crime lab is trying to enhance the tape to come up with an image of the guy's
face, and that you're hopeful you'll be able to identify him soon. Hopefully
word will spread to the right person."
Piers got up from the couch. Odd that she'd ever found him hard to
read--because right then she had absolutely no problem seeing how much he disliked this idea.
"You know as well as I do that a man exiting the hotel wearing a gray
hooded T-shirt around the time of the murder means nothing by itself," Piers
said. "You are the one who can tie that person to the murder. The only one.
And the killer knows that. So what you're really suggesting is that we give
Mandy Robards's murderer extra incentive to get you out of the picture."
"I'm suggesting we motivate the murderer to make a move that we will
be prepared for."
"Cut the crap--you want me to use you as bait. You want me to provoke
this guy into attacking you again."
"I think it's an option we need to think about, yes."
"No."
"You said you would consider everything before you answered."
"It's been considered." Piers stared her right in the eyes. "And I will
spend the next twenty years sleeping on your floor before I ever willingly put
you in danger."
Hearing that, Sherry got up from the couch and walked over. "After
this weekend, I probably wouldn't make you sleep on the floor, you know."
But Piers wasn't in the mood for teasing. He moved away from her, over
by the window. "I'm serious about this, Sherry."
"With you covering me, and a team of FBI agents who we'd set up in
advance, don't you think I'd be safe? If you came to me as a prosecutor, this
is exactly the type of operation I'd approve. Particularly with such a
high-profile crime."
"If I came to you as a prosecutor, you would ask me about the risks.
And I would tell you that no one, including me, can ever guarantee safety in
an operation like this. I can take those risks with other people. But not with
you."
His words hung in the air between them. Sherry finally spoke first.
"I agreed that you're in charge. So if you don't think this is a good idea,
I'll drop it. For now," she added. She knew he wanted to be all moody and
broody right then, but too bad--she wasn't going to let him. "I can't promise I
won't bring this up again in the future, though. I can be kind of fussy about
these things when I want to be."
She caught the glimmer of amusement in Piers's eyes. "When did you ever actually agree that I was in charge?" he asked. "I
think I missed that."
"It was more of an implied consent. I didn't reject the concept the two
times you brought it up."
He shook his head. "You are such a lawyer." He looked out the window
and sighed. "I do think it's a good idea, Sherry. And I want this to be over
just as much as you do." He turned back to the window, gazing out as he
thought things through. He ran his hand over his mouth. "I don't know,
maybe if we could find a look-alike . . . some female agent who looks like
you, who I could station in this house in your place . . ."
He turned around. "Maybe if--" He stopped suddenly, presumably
seeing the look on her face. "What? What's wrong?"
It was the thing he'd done right then. When he'd run his hand over his
mouth.
It struck Sherry--the piece she'd been missing all this time about the
night of Mandy Robards's murder. There'd been something in that moment
when she'd seen the killer through the peephole as he'd left Mandy's room,
something she'd never been able to put her finger on.
It was the way his blazer had pulled tight across his shoulders as he'd
reached forward to push open the stairwell door. There'd been a faint imprint
underneath his blazer, the same kind she'd just seen underneath Piers's
blazer when he had reached up to rub his mouth.
Sherry stared at Piers in surprise.
"I don't know if this means anything . . . but I'm pretty sure the guy who
killed Mandy Robards was wearing a gun the night he strangled her."