by Charly Cox
‘Detective, I don’t know where my daughter is, and I’m worried. Yes, she can be a bit spoiled and dramatic, but this goes beyond even her wildest stunt. So, I’d like to know what I need to do to officially file a missing person’s report.’
‘Consider it official. Thank you for calling. We’ll let you know as soon as we find anything out. And please do the same. If you hear from her, or if she comes home, do give me a call.’
As soon as she hung up, Alyssa changed lanes so she could make a U-turn. ‘Since we haven’t heard back from Hal yet on that address for Chance Williams, let’s go have a chat with Beau Cambridge.’
Cord’s face could’ve been carved from stone the way it hardened. Without responding, he tapped the navigation screen and entered the Cambridge family’s address.
It took less than ten minutes to reach Tanoan East, the gated community situated around one of Albuquerque’s golf courses. The Cambridge residence was in the center of the subdivision, and it boasted oversized windows which allowed passers-by to glance into and through their home to the Sandia mountains nestled behind them.
In the driveway sat a souped-up four-wheel-drive Rubicon that Alyssa knew from Holly belonged to Jersey’s boyfriend. Next to it was a newer model BMW convertible with buttery yellow leather seats that looked like they hugged the bodies of its passengers. Situated on two pillars in front of the house were two humongous brass lions.
‘Apparently, I missed the memo that all our interviewees today were going to be swimming in currency.’
‘You’re telling me.’ Cord’s head swiveled as he took in the surrounding area. ‘But next to the Otis residence, this one kind of looks shabby, don’t you think?’ Though his words held a note of humor, there was none to be found in his gaze. She wondered when or even if he’d share what was eating away at him.
Shoving her partner’s frame of mind aside, Alyssa led the way up the walkway and through the courtyard to the front door. Pressing her finger on the white button, she rang the bell, listening to the chime echo throughout the house. Seconds later, the clickety-clack of high heels across tiled floor reverberated as someone hurried to see who was calling.
They heard the sounds of an alarm being disarmed, a series of rattles from a chain lock being removed, and the clap of a deadbolt turning before the door opened to reveal a woman in her early to mid-fifties who appeared to be trying her best to look at least a decade younger. From a distance she probably pulled it off. Up close, however, the stretched look from Botox injections told a different story. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, make-up airbrushed into perfection so that it gave her face the appearance of a porcelain doll. Large sparkly sapphires dangled from her ears, completing the look.
‘Mrs. Cambridge?’ Alyssa asked.
The woman’s gaze flickered between Cord and Alyssa, and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it before she finally answered. ‘Yes. Who’s asking?’
‘I’m Detective Wyatt from the Albuquerque Police Department, and this is my partner, Detective Roberts.’ Twisting her torso toward the driveway, she pointed. ‘Does that Jeep belong to your son, Beau?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is he home then? We’d like to ask him a few questions regarding his girlfriend, Jersey Andrews.’
At the mention of Jersey’s name, Mrs. Cambridge dropped her gaze to the floor but not before Alyssa glimpsed a shadow pass over the woman’s face. And then, with a carefully schooled expression that had Alyssa’s instincts screaming, Mrs. Cambridge said, ‘Beau is home, but I’m afraid he can’t be interrupted right now. He and his father are planning’ – she waved her hand in the air – ‘whatever they plan.’ In the blink of an eye, she’d gone from timid and nervous to self-assured and forceful, if not quite assertive.
Alyssa studied the woman in front of her. ‘I wonder if he would mind being interrupted if he knew the other option would be for us to take him downtown for questioning.’
Mrs. Cambridge paled under her perfectly applied make-up, and she swayed just the tiniest bit. ‘Let me just… let me… I’m sure he won’t mind speaking with you for just a few moments.’ And then she closed the door in their faces as they listened to the receding sounds of her heels traversing back the way they’d come.
‘Who’s she afraid of, do you think? Her husband, son, or both?’ Alyssa kept her eye trained on the door while Cord moved to the left, openly staring into the house through the window.
‘I bet we’re going to find out in a minute.’
Except two minutes, then three passed, and Alyssa was considering ringing the doorbell again when an angry voice and heavy footsteps preceded the door swinging open to reveal a middle-aged man dressed in golf attire, gray peppering the edges of his dark hair. Behind him, with a cocky grin on his face, was a boy of about eighteen or nineteen who she assumed was Beau Cambridge.
Mr. Cambridge puffed his chest out and stepped into Alyssa’s personal space, instantly putting her back up as her hand moved to her hip where it hovered above her gun. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Cord tense as he moved in closer to her, his palm resting on his weapon.
‘What’s this about the police threatening to haul my boy downtown for questioning?’
If the man’s booming voice was intended to be threatening, it had the opposite effect, proving instead to piss Alyssa off, especially combined with the way he continued to press forward. ‘I’ve been warning Beau he needed to get rid of that little tart because she was only good for bitching and blow jobs, and he can get that anywhere.’
A horrified gasp escaped from Mrs. Cambridge a second before she clapped her hand over her mouth. The gleam in her husband’s eyes told Alyssa the man was pleased with his wife’s reaction.
Eyes blazing and temper beginning to simmer, Alyssa said, ‘First off, sir, you’re going to want to take a healthy step back and get the hell out of my face.’ At five-three her height might be diminutive, but her temper was not. She didn’t miss the defiant expression that flashed briefly across the man’s face, making it obvious that women didn’t often challenge him. But she wasn’t most women, and he was about to discover that fast if he didn’t back up. After all, he certainly wasn’t the first male chauvinist she’d encountered in her career or her lifetime, and sadly, he wouldn’t be the last.
Without moving, Mr. Cambridge curled his lip and shot a disgusted sneer Cord’s way, as if judging him to be inadequate for his inability to keep his female partner in line. When he stared back down at her, his eyes narrowed to a razor edge. ‘This is my house. Who’s going to make me step back? You?’
Alyssa didn’t blink, didn’t telegraph her intent in any way before she moved in, crowding him now. ‘Yeah, me. Would you like to test that fact?’
Even though she had to tilt her head back to see his face as he towered above her – Mr. Cambridge was taller even than Cord – she knew by the shadows that passed over his face that he was considering how far he could, or should, push her. The wrong choice would find him on the ground in nothing flat, bested by a woman a foot shorter than him. If nothing else did, that would certainly get his attention.
Finally, his face flushed a mottled red, he took two steps backwards into the foyer. His wife stood to the side, eyes wide, lips trembling, hands twisting an enormous sapphire ring around and around on her finger. Near her in an open archway, Beau Cambridge stood with his legs spread and arms crossed over his beefy chest, an amused smile on his face. Alyssa could understand why neither Mrs. Andrews nor Jersey’s friends liked him. Without ever having heard him speak, she found him highly unlikeable.
‘You have five minutes, Detective, and then you need to leave. And if any of your questions seem accusatory, I’ll have you fired for harassment.’ Mr. Cambridge adopted his son’s posture and crossed his arms over his chest as his eyes shot daggers through her.
Alyssa didn’t bother to hide the fact that she was rolling her eyes at his dramatics. You can try, she thought, but refrained from stoking that
fire. Instead she raised her steady gaze to his and countered with, ‘If your son has nothing to hide, then he has no reason to fear any of the questions we choose to ask.’ She let her stare carry over to Beau. ‘Beau Cambridge?’
His eyes shifted toward his father’s before he dropped his head in a brief nod.
‘What happened to your face?’ Two red scratches zigzagged across his right cheek and stretched down his neck where they disappeared beneath his shirt collar.
Again, his gaze flickered toward his father. ‘Why? What’s it to you?’
Before Alyssa could respond, Beau turned to his mother and snapped out an order, punctuating it with a pointed finger. ‘Go get me a Coke.’
She half expected a military salute before Mrs. Cambridge immediately retreated to obey, and it took yet another layer of Alyssa’s willpower not to stop her and demand the spoiled brat get his own damn drink. Forcing him to show a little respect is not why you’re here.
As soon as Mrs. Cambridge was out of sight, Cord pushed further into the foyer, edging closer to the two men, his stance indicating a hyper sense of awareness, the expression on his face unfamiliar to her. His nostrils flared, and the tendons in his neck stood out, as he leveled both men with a fiery stare.
‘What it is to me,’ Alyssa enunciated clearly, ‘is that your girlfriend hasn’t been seen since leaving the restaurant where she and her friends had dinner. And I’m wondering if those scratches could have anything to do with her disappearance. So, I’ll ask again. What happened to your face?’
That cocky, arrogant smile spread across his face once more, and he leaned back against the wall, one heel resting on it as he crossed his arms in a way that showcased his gym-made muscles. He and his father shared a smirk before he focused his gaze on Alyssa. ‘A cat scratched me. And Jersey’s not my girlfriend anymore. You heard my dad. She was only good for two things. And she wasn’t much good at one of those. I’ll let you guess which one.’
The way Cord’s body tensed, as if he was a snake coiled to strike, had Alyssa on edge. She tried to catch his eye, to convey to him that he needed to calm down, but his narrow-eyed gaze remained steadfast on Beau’s.
She refocused her attention back on Jersey’s boyfriend – or ex – if what he claimed was true. ‘But you were with Jersey yesterday, is that correct?’
Beau flicked an imaginary piece of lint from his jeans, turning as his mother returned with a glass filled with ice and Coke for him, and a smaller one filled with what appeared to be whiskey for her husband. Great. Handing hard liquor to a man who was already an ass was a tremendous idea.
Only after chugging half the drink did Beau answer. ‘Yeah. I was with her at her house, but I broke up with her before I left.’
‘But she was still your girlfriend when you suggested the threesome she declined?’
Beau’s eyes shot up before he relaxed, shrugged, and presented a bored face. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I’m talking about your suggestion that your girlfriend have sex with two men at the same time while you watched.’ Alyssa didn’t miss the small grin on Mr. Cambridge’s face, nor the smirk on Beau’s.
‘I don’t know who told you that, but it’s a lie.’
Whatever Alyssa would’ve said next was interrupted when Cord stepped forward. ‘Why don’t you show me your hands?’ He may have posed it as a question, but his tone made clear that this was an order.
Beau stiffened. ‘What for?’
‘Let’s just call it curiosity. Worried I’ll see something you don’t want me to see?’
After shooting a nervous glance his father’s way, Beau held his hands out, first palms down, then flipping them up, before shoving them back into his armpits.
Alyssa noted another scratch on the outside of his left hand. ‘From the cat?’ she asked, allowing the sarcasm to drip through.
‘Yeah.’
‘Whose cat?’
‘What?’
She shrugged. ‘Whose cat? Yours?’
‘No, a buddy’s.’
‘You don’t mind if we have a look at your room and in your vehicle, do you?’ Cord asked.
Beau shoved himself off the wall, his arms dropping to his sides, his gaze flitting to his father. ‘What the hell for?’ Was it panic or something else that caused his face to flush pink?
At the same time, Mr. Cambridge said, ‘Not without a search warrant you won’t!’
Alyssa shrugged, not surprised by the response. ‘No problem. We can do that. Maybe even impound it if we feel it was used in connection with a crime.’
Between her steady gaze and Cord’s, Beau began shuffling his feet, but all he said was, ‘I didn’t commit no crime.’
‘What did you do, and who were you with after you left Ms. Andrews?’ Cord asked.
The way he perked up, preening at Cord’s question told Alyssa what Beau was going to say before it ever left his mouth. He was with another girl.
‘I had company. Here. All night. In my room. Do you want pictures?’
The glow from Mr. Cambridge’s face was bright enough to guide a ship home. Unfortunately, he was the wrong port. On the other side of the room, Mrs. Cambridge blushed.
‘We don’t need pictures, thank you,’ Alyssa said, pretending she’d taken his question at face value. ‘However, we will need the girl’s name and contact information.’
Another smirk crossed his face, and this time, Alyssa’s palm itched to slap it off.
‘I don’t have her contact info,’ Beau said now. ‘She wasn’t good enough for me to get it.’ He chuckled as his dad snickered, and Alyssa felt the temper that had been simmering just below the surface begin to boil.
Beau continued. ‘This bitch was hitting on me, and when she told me what she wanted to do, I had her follow me home. We didn’t exchange names.’
‘What time did she leave?’ Cord asked, controlled fury in his voice.
Beau’s shoulders lifted and dropped. ‘Maybe two, three in the morning. When we finished, she didn’t seem to want to hang around, and I didn’t ask her to. Already got what I wanted and didn’t need a repeat. Like I said, she wasn’t all that good, and definitely not worth more of my time.’ He actually winked at Cord, and Mr. Cambridge laughed out loud, laughing harder as Mrs. Cambridge finally decided she’d heard enough, turning on her expensive high heels and stalking out of the room and down the hall, where a door closed loudly enough to indicate anger and disgust, but not so much that it would be considered to be slammed.
A second later Cord decided he was done playing nice.
To Alyssa’s shock, her partner lost his composure, and in two quick steps, he was across the floor and in Beau’s face, and when Mr. Cambridge moved to intercept him, Cord’s right hand shot out to stop him in his tracks. Never taking his eyes from the boy in front of him, he growled between gritted teeth. ‘If you did something to Ms. Andrews, we will find out, and when we do, we’ll see how arrogant you are when we toss you in jail. Maybe see how you like being someone else’s b—’
Alyssa stepped in and laid a hand on her partner’s arm, stopping him from saying what was on the tip of his tongue, not only because it was condescending and sexist in its own right, but because she was afraid he might actually punch Beau in the face. Not that he didn’t deserve it.
She knew it was only because Cord allowed it that she was able to draw him back. Seething, he turned his barely contained fury on Beau’s father.
Mr. Cambridge’s frame shook as the color in his face surpassed red and morphed into purple. ‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with or the people I know. My lawyer will be contacting your boss and the mayor. You’ll be out of a job before you can leave this neighborhood.’
Cord’s head fell back in unamused laughter before his neck snapped up, and he stepped closer to Beau’s father, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. ‘You don’t know who I know, either, man. Should we place bets on whose threat’s going to hold more water? Because if you’r
e smart, you’ll bet on me.’
And with that her partner stormed out. Unlike Mrs. Cambridge a few moments earlier, Cord made certain he slammed the door hard enough to rattle the windows, and Alyssa had to fight back a cringe, hoping they didn’t shatter. Not once in five years had she ever witnessed him lose his composure, not even when he interviewed hardened criminals. In fact, he was often the calming force that kept her from exploding.
Before following him out, she removed a business card and placed it on the small table near the door. ‘You’ll call if you think of anything you might’ve forgotten to mention,’ she said, making it a demand instead of a request. Back outside she made her way to the curb where Cord stood facing away from the house, the muscles in his back vibrating.
She pushed the key fob to unlock the car, and without turning around, Cord yanked open the passenger door and slid inside. After she buckled herself in, Alyssa turned the ignition, peeked at her partner’s profile, then slowly pulled away from the curb. ‘Want to tell me where all that came from?’
She glanced over in time to see his fingers squeezing his thighs as he breathed slowly in and out through gritted teeth. The ticcing in his jaw grew more pronounced as her question lingered in the air, the weight of it heavy in the space between them. Just when she was sure he wasn’t going to respond, he finally spoke.
Chapter Nine
Monday, May 20
Heavy footsteps above their heads drew the girls’ attention, and they all looked up, necks craning. And as if some evil fairy had sprinkled silent dust over them, they fell eerily quiet, the sounds of their breathing hushed, barely audible wisps of air.
A key jiggled in a lock just before the door opened and a bright overhead light flipped on, burning Rachel’s retinas as she reached up to shield her eyes from the brutal glare. Still, she focused on two stocky men as they made their way down the stairs, stepping into the center of the room outside the metal enclosure. No words passed between them as they slowly shifted their gazes from left to right, their intense concentration seeming to undress and inspect each of the girls in turn, and Rachel chomped down on her cheek to keep her teeth from chattering against each other. The urge to close her eyes battled against her will to watch their every movement.