Nemesis by Bill Pronzini Page A

so much I’m still shaking.”
    â€œDid you notify the police?”
    â€œThe police? No. I don’t trust the police, I told you that. You’re the only one I trust.”
    â€œBuilding security?”
    â€œNo, it was too late by the time…” Gulping sound. “Jake … can you come over here? Now? It’s not too much to ask, is it? I’ll tell you everything that happened when you get here. Please?”
    He sat for half a dozen beats, holding the cell tight in his fingers, before he said, “All right. Half an hour.”

 
    8
    The same burly security man who’d been on duty the evening of Runyon’s first visit was behind the desk in the lobby. The name George was stitched above the pocket of his uniform jacket. “Mr. Runyon, right,” he said. “Ms. Daniels is expecting you.”
    â€œShe say anything else when she called down?”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œLike anything.”
    â€œNo. Just that you’d be here about now.”
    â€œHow did she sound?”
    â€œSound?”
    â€œUpset, anxious, nervous?”
    George looked puzzled. “Like she always sounds.”
    â€œCalm, then. Normal.”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œDid you see her when she came back from dinner?”
    â€œTonight? No, sir. If she went out, it must’ve been through the garage.”
    â€œThe guard down there, Frank, said he hasn’t seen her.”
    â€œWell, then, she must’ve been in all evening.”
    Runyon said, “Tell me something. How tight is the security in this building?”
    â€œWhy do you want to know?”
    â€œJust curious. I’m in the security business myself.”
    â€œThat so? What kind?”
    Runyon told him, showed his ID. George frowned as he studied it. “Ms. Daniels didn’t say anything about you being a PI,” he said. “She in some kind of trouble?”
    â€œConfidential matter.”
    George seemed to want to press him, settled instead for saying, “Sure, none of my business. I was a cop myself for four years, back in the nineties.” He sounded bitter rather than proud of the fact. “Didn’t work out, so I went into private security. Pays the bills, but it’s not exactly exciting work. Not in a place like this.”
    â€œSo the security’s pretty tight.”
    â€œTight as it gets. Nobody gets in or out unless they live here or they’re invited or announced.”
    â€œCameras on every floor? All working, all monitored by you?”
    â€œOn my shift, that’s right.”
    â€œAnd you’ve been here all evening.”
    â€œSince I came on at four.” One corner of George’s mouth turned up in a crooked half smile. “Rules here are so strict I have to make an appointment to take a leak.”
    Verity Daniels opened the door so quickly after Runyon pressed the bell that she might have been waiting next to it. Maybe she had been. As soon as he was inside the studio with the door shut, she stepped in close and tried to embrace him, murmuring something he didn’t pay attention to. He caught hold of her, not roughly but not gently, either, and stood her off at arms’ length.
    She blinked, looking hurt, uncertain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean … I’m just so glad you’re here.…”
    â€œTell me what happened.”
    â€œCan’t we sit down first? I’m still shaky.…”
    He let go of her, watched her walk to the blond-wood sofa and lower herself. When she saw that he hadn’t moved, she said, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”
    â€œNo. Tell me what happened.”
    â€œI went out to get something to eat … a restaurant just around the corner. I wasn’t gone more than an hour. He … he was waiting when I got off the elevator. I didn’t know he was there until he grabbed me from behind, told me not to scream or