Peter was not keen on the idea of being alone with a potential killer, not knowing if he had backup or not. He told himself it was supposed to be a date and that she would not likely try to kill him until they were married.
Her apartment was grand, with odd designer lamps and more sofas and armchairs than anyone could need.
"Why don't you make us a drink," she said, taking off her jacket, "while I change and put on some music?"
It was not really a question because she disappeared into another room before he could say anything. He scanned around.
"If you can hear me," he mumbled, "I don't see a computer, so the keylogger isn't gonna work." Soft music was turned on. He glanced around in the direction she had left and saw her slipping out of her dress deliberately in his eyesight. She smiled at him, just in her underwear, and walked on into a walk-in closet.
Peter wondered why on earth this woman picked him and not the kid or Jones. Why had he ever agreed to put himself in this situation? This woman would eat him alive.
"I'm going for the bug plant on the purse," he mumbled.
He bent beside the sofa where the purse was, not wanting to be caught red-handed but more of an accidental closeness.
"What are you doing?" Selena asked, returning with a thin red robe over her black underwear.
"Thought I saw a bug."
"I'll call the exterminator in the morning. How about those drinks?"
She passed him, stroking his cheek, walking straight to the bar. She grabbed a sturdy sharp knife and smiled at him. Was it a threat? Why would it be? Why would it not? This was not a normal single woman. This was a woman with four dead husbands.
Selena began to attack the ice in the ice bucket. Peter got to his feet.
"Lemon?" she asked when she was through with the ice.
"Surprise me."
She fished up some ice in the glass and walked toward him, stirring the drink with the knife. A disturbing sight. Would he ask her about it? Would it sound strange?
She removed the knife and handed him the drink.
"Peter?"
"Yes?"
She was hot and sexy, getting closer to him, still with a knife in her hand. If he defended himself now, he would blow it, and later, well, it might be just too late. And god, she was going to have sex, it seemed, with or without a knife, it did not matter. He needed an excuse, any plausible excuse, to get out of there.
He tipped the drink, spilling it on his shirt.
"Oh, oh, I just spilled it on me. Oh! Oh, I'm so clumsy." She did not appear as she suspected it was on purpose. "You mind if I use your bathroom?"
"Oh, no, I can help you with that," she smiled and unbuttoned his shirt. Oh god, his plan backfired.
"Oh, no, no. That's okay. I— These buttons are difficult. Let me—" They both laughed, but not both of them had fun; that was one thing Peter was sure of. "Uh, here, let me get the —" He tried to hand her his drink, but she did not go for it. The cell phone in his pocket started to ring.
"Oh, oh..." she giggled and went for his phone.
"No, no! I can get it. That's not a problem."
She just smiled, teasing him.
"Peter Williams' phone," she answered.
Who was calling? He had had no chance to see it on the screen.
She walked towards the bar listening. Then she turned with a bored face, handing him the phone.
"Sounds important."
"This is Williams," he answered.
"Hello, Mr. Williams," Neal said at the other end. "I'm looking for Phil. Phil Landerer."
"Rrright." Who was Phil Landerer? Some code he was supposed to understand?
"You know him?" the kid asked.
"Okay, on my way," Peter said, ending the call and focusing on Selena, who had not ignored him the whole time, not one bit. "Sorry. I got to handle this."
"Oh..."
"I know it. I know. Selena, I had a great time. I'll make it up to you."
"Oh, you'll make it up to me tomorrow night," she said, pressing her lips against his, and he had to force himself not to duck away.
"Gotta go."
"Yeah."
"Why don't you make us a drink while I change and put on some music?" Neal and Diana heard in the van.
"Is she actually slipping into something more comfortable?" Diana frowned.
"Mm-hmm," Neal nodded. So it seemed.
"I don't like this woman." Her cell phone rang. "Hey, Jones. What's up?"
"Come on, Peter," Neal mumbled to himself, knowing his handler did not hear him. "Plant the bug and get out."
"If you can hear me, I don't see a computer, so the keylogger isn't gonna work," Peter mumbled. "I'm going for the bug plant on the purse."
"Thanks, Jones," Diana said and hung up. "L.A.'s autopsy came in. Selena's fourth victim died of a stab wound to the throat. Street mugging. Selena was the only eyewitness, and they never caught the assailant."
"Well, that's convenient."
"The murder happened while they were out to dinner."
"Maybe she is a serial killer." Neal was not comfortable with the thought at all. Peter could be in more danger than they had participated.
"Or he caught on to her plan."
"What are you doing?" they heard Selena's voice.
"Thought I saw a bug." In any other situation, he and Diana would have giggled.
"I'll call the exterminator in the morning. How about those drinks?"
They listened intensely.
"Surprise me," Peter said without them hearing the question. Then, Neal was not sure, but she seemed to be near him.
"Oh, oh, I just spilled it on me," Peter said. "Oh! Oh, I'm so clumsy."
"He needs help," Diana translated.
"All right, I'm gonna call him," Neal through off his headphones and grabbed his phone. "Can you generate some sound effects? A steel mill, people yelling, something."
"The Bureau can, and I can patch it through to the call."
Diana made a call and made the request. It seemed to take ages, but Neal knew it was less than a minute. She nodded to him and got the sound of a factory through a speaker.
Neal dialed. A few signals went through then:
"Peter Williams' phone," Selena said.
"Where's Mr. Williams?" Neal said, raising his voice to get heard. "Who is this? You know what? It doesn't matter. We need him here, pronto. Hamilton Mill is getting lit up like a Christmas tree. We have an induction furnace that is ready to blow."
There was silence at the other end. Then:
"Sounds important."
"This is Williams." Peter. Neal relaxed. Nothing had happened.
"Hello, Mr. Williams. I'm looking for Phil - Phil Landerer." He smiled at his own joke.
"Right."
"You know him?"
"Okay, on my way." Somehow he felt that Peter did not get the joke with the word philanderer. Well, Peter was alive and healthy, and that was the most important.
"We're good," he told Diana.
Please join me on buy me a coffee do slash altankatt
