Then he slid in the disc.

Eighty-Nine

As Striker made his way out through the front doors of the annexe, his cell phone went off. He looked down at the screen, saw the name Sue Rhaemer, and felt a jolt of hope. It was Central Dispatch. Maybe they had a hit on one of the Ostermanns. He answered the call and stuck the phone to his ear. ‘Sue,’ he said. ‘What you got?’

She laughed softly. ‘Calm down, Big Fella, nothing about the Ostermanns, so you can get rid of your hard-on.’

Striker felt his renewed optimism disintegrate. ‘Then what’s the occasion?’ he asked, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice.

‘The occasion is Bernard Hamilton,’ Sue said.

That made Striker take notice. ‘Bernard? Now what has the idiot done?’

Sue chuckled at that. ‘Nothing too crazy, really. But it’s strange. He keeps calling me up and asking me questions – about you.’

‘About me?’

‘And the case you’re on. This one with Larisa Logan.’

Striker felt his fingers ball up. ‘You didn’t tell him anything, did you?’

‘No, I told him to buzz off in my usual polite way. But he did pique my interest. So I got a little creative up here and ran his GPS history. A weird thing came back – Bernard’s position is the exact same as yours, and it has been all day long.’

Striker thought that over. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Hundred per cent. And it was the same yesterday. Wherever you put yourself out, he does, too. It’s almost like he’s been following you – or at least following your unit status, seeing where you went, then re-attending.’

‘The devious little—’

Striker cut himself off. He couldn’t believe his ears. The prick had no shame, and his motive was obvious. Bernard was planning on following their leads, then sneaking in and making the grab on Larisa right from under their noses. Not only was it a shitty thing to do to one of your fellow officers, but it was putting the woman at greater risk.

He had had enough.

‘There’s something wrong with that guy,’ Sue said.

‘Darlin’, you don’t know the half of it.’

‘Bernard’s not supposed to be using us to check up on you. Want me to do something about it? Speak to one of my superiors down here?’

‘I’ll deal with it myself,’ Striker said. ‘Though I might need your assistance, if you feel like helping me put the screws on him.’

‘Shipwreck, you’ve come to the right girl.’

Striker smiled. ‘I’ll call back.’

He hung up the phone, and walked out on to Cordova Street. Felicia was already on the sidewalk, waiting for him with two cups of coffee in her hands. She handed him one, then took a quick look at his hard expression and lost her smile.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. He told her everything he’d just learned about Bernard Hamilton, and she let out a worried sound. ‘He’s gonna screw up everything.’

Striker just shook his head and smiled at her.

‘Here’s what I need you to do.’

Fifteen minutes later, Striker parked on the corner of Burrard and Pender and waited for Felicia to get out. She hopped out of the car, closed the door, and stood ten feet away on the sidewalk, in a nook to get away from the wind. Once she was ready and gave him the thumbs up, Striker grabbed the radio mike. He depressed the plunger and spoke.

‘Detective Striker to Radio,’ he said.

Sue Rhaemer answered. ‘Go for Radio.’

‘Did you get that address I asked for?’

‘The one for Logan?’ she replied. ‘Yes, I sent it to your screen.’

‘Thanks,’ Striker said. ‘Can you get my partner to switch to the Chat channel?’

Sue Rhaemer raised Felicia over the air, and Felicia responded.

‘Switching to Chat,’ she said.

Striker ramped the radio up to the next level, and waited to hear Felicia come across the air. ‘Felicia on Chat,’ she said. He waited a few more seconds, to be sure that Bernard would be eavesdropping on the conversation. Then he depressed the plunger.

‘Hey, Feleesh, where are you?’ he asked.

‘Fifth floor. Why?’

‘Get down here. I know where Larisa is hiding out.’

‘Awesome, where?’

‘She’s up in Shaughnessy. 5142 Osler Street. Apparently her aunt lives there and has been letting her hide out for the last two days. I’ve got confirmation she’s there right now. We’ll be pushing our way in. The chief wants this done ASAP and kept under wrap.’

‘I’m coming down now,’ Felicia said. ‘Pick me up.’

‘Will do,’ Striker said. ‘Leaving Chat.’

He ramped the radio channel from Chat back to Dispatch. Then he called the Central Dispatcher. Sue Rhaemer answered on the first ring. She was already laughing.

‘Did it work?’ he asked her.

‘I’m checking his GPS now,’ she said. ‘And . . . Bernard is heading due south.’

Her reply made Striker smile. It was perfect.

He thanked Sue for her help, then said goodbye. Felicia returned to the car just as he hung up. She crashed down in her seat, giggling, and closed the door behind her.

‘So?’ she asked. ‘You think he was listening?’

‘Oh, he was listening. You can count on it.’

Striker put the car into Drive and headed west. They’d gone less than a block before Felicia spoke again. ‘5142,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘The Shaughnessy area? What’s that Osler Street address for?’

Striker just grinned and kept driving.

‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to know.’

Ninety

‘Whistler,’ Felicia said again.

Striker nodded. ‘Larisa’s text was pinged there.’

He drove down Hastings Street towards the Stanley Park Causeway and, from there, the Lions Gate Bridge. Once into North Van, it was just one long winding Trans-Canada Highway stretch to the Whistler Blackcomb ski resort.

‘Whistler or Blackcomb?’ Felicia asked.

‘I don’t know yet, one of the villages.’

Felicia looked at him like he was crazy. ‘You know how many people are up there right now, Jacob. The ski season’s on, for God’s sake. There’ll be more than—’

‘I know, Feleesh, I know. But she’s up there. Without a doubt. What if something happens and we’re all the way down here with no way to get to her? I can’t think of any other choice we have at this point.’

‘I can. It’s called the Feds. They have units all over that area.’

Striker cast her a hot stare. ‘Absolutely not. If Larisa thinks we’ve sent another cop after her, it’s all over. I won’t let that happen. We do this one on our own.’

Felicia said nothing for a moment, then shook her head. ‘It’s not our jurisdiction, Jacob. You have to get permission from Car 10.’

‘You know as well as I do what Laroche will say.’

‘We have to tell him, Jacob. He’s the Road Boss.’

Striker felt his knuckles tighten on the wheel. ‘Not this time, Feleesh.’

‘I really think—’

He pulled over to the side of the road and slammed the steering column in Park. When he turned to face her, his adrenalin was starting. ‘I’m not doing anything that’s going to jeopardize my chance of getting Larisa back. You’re right. Calling Car 10 is the protocol, but you know what? I’m not doing it. Because I know what Laroche’s response will be. He’ll get all the different jurisdictions involved, we’ll have another boondoggle like we had at Metrotown, and the next thing you know Larisa will be gone forever. Well, forget that. I owe her this. And I’m more than willing to risk my career doing it. You can get out right now and I’ll completely understand. But know this: I am going.’

He reached over and opened the door for her.

Felicia just looked back at him with a surprised look in her eyes. Then he saw the anger. For a moment, he thought she might actually leave. But then she grabbed the door and slammed it shut. ‘We’re not going to get there any faster if you leave the car in Park.’