Anton and Gregor were choking on the stench of smoke that permeated the stairwell. Waiting.
The security guard at the lawyer bitch’s office building had said she always took the stairs.
She blew past them in a hurry in the lobby, so they’d left the car and trailed her on foot to the courthouse. She was moving pretty fast, so they were almost a whole block behind. Close enough not to lose her, far enough not to be noticed.
When they got to the courthouse vestibule, she had already gone through the security set up. Gregor hated to draw any attention to them, but he had to know where she went. While he was filling out the paperwork to check their cell phones in the public cubbies, he asked the guard as casually as he could manage, “Which courtroom is Ms. McCandless in?”
The guard raised his hands, palms up. “Beats me.”
But the older guy running the scanner said, “Must be Judge Cook. On the fourth floor. He’s got a nine thirty hearing on a case of Mr. Peterson’s, rest his soul.”
The old guy read every court calendar every morning. Had done so for as long as he’d been working the lobby.
“Fourth floor. Got it. Thanks.” Gregor and Anton strolled over to the elevators. Anton hit the button.
They got off on three and headed for the stairwell. Coughed on the smoke stink and lumbered up one flight of wide marble stairs. Anton had cracked the door to the fourth floor hallway open and stuck his head out.
“All clear.”
“Find out where the courtroom is.”
Anton had slipped through the door and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. He strolled past the men’s room to the courtroom that had Cook’s name above the door, then wheeled around and hurried back to the safety of the stairwell.
“This is the closest stairwell.”
Gregor had nodded, satisfied. He positioned himself at the landing on the fifth floor. Anton walked back down to the third floor landing.