“That’s great,” Jess told her. “I’m glad it all worked out.”
“I got the guy, too,” she said.
“The guy who sold it?” Jess racked her brain, trying to remember his name. “Brad something?”
“Close. Bruce. Bruce Lindell.”
Jess snapped her fingers. “Right. I knew it started with a B.”
“Brought him in for questioning. Turns out he stripped most of the pipes from an abandoned house. So he’ll probably be doing some time and paying a nice fine, too.”
Jess nodded. “Good.” She felt a little twinge of guilt that she’d let him off without giving him a speeding ticket. But it wasn’t as if that would have helped her identify what he’d been up to.
“Anyway,” Camila said as she shuffled some papers stacked on her desk, “I just wanted to let you know that your tip paid off. Thanks.”
The conflicting emotions rose up inside Jessica again as she headed to her desk.
She was glad she’d been right to be suspicious of the amount of metal piping she’d seen in the back of Bruce Lindell’s truck, and glad that Cam had been able to go and investigate. It was always a good day when people or companies who were caught breaking the law were called out on it and the DA could bring charges against them. But there was that part of her that wished she could have been more involved in the case than simply participating as the officer who supplied the lead.
She sighed as she lowered herself into her chair.
She couldn’t dwell on it. It didn’t do any good.
The best thing for her to do would be to simply accept it. This was her job. Being a police officer. And the work she did still made a difference in Aspen Falls. Cam had just provided validation of that.
But still…
Jess stood up, ready to head to the locker room and strip out of her uniform—wash away her night under the steady stream of the shower.
She still wished there was something more.
8
Tuesday, June 27
8:15 am
The manager sounded apologetic. Jarrett would give him that.
He was standing in the small, cramped reception area of Superior Metals, chatting with Gary Desmond. He didn’t know what to call the space, really. The double-door entrance led to a rectangular room equipped with a long counter and not much else. There was a computer monitor on the far right, and various notices were plastered to the countertop, peeling packing tape serving as both an adhesive and a protective measure.
“Can’t say I blame her for coming by and asking,” Gary was saying. He scratched at his balding head. “She was just doing her job.”
Jarrett had read about the citations and arrest on the daily police report, and since it was a slow news day, he thought he’d come out and ask the owner some questions. And just as he’d suspected, it wasn’t much of a story at all.
“Any particular reason why you didn’t get the guy’s info? The person who dropped off all the pipes.”
Gary smiled ruefully. “About a dozen, but none of them good.”
“What do you mean?”
Gary was standing on the other side of the counter, and he pointed to an old printer tucked in the corner, sitting on a wobbly looking printer stand.
“I’m not the best with technology,” he said. “And the printer was giving me grief that morning. He was my first customer of the day and I didn’t have forms printed. Couldn’t get the damn printer to work so I just told him to forget it, he could come by another time and we could get everything squared away. He was in a hurry, too, and I didn’t want to keep him waiting.”
Jarrett frowned. Of course he was in a hurry. The guy had been selling stolen property.
Gary smiled again. “Anyway, I have a new printer on the way and we’re switching out modems here. The internet guy tells me that may help so logging onto the database isn’t so glitchy. Since that was another violation.”
Jarrett stifled a chuckle. The internet guy? Clearly Gary wasn’t terribly savvy when it came to technology.
“And the fines?” Jarrett asked him.
“What about them?”
“How do you feel about them?”
Gary shrugged. “Well, not gonna say I like them, but if we broke the law, we broke the law.”
“You don’t seem too upset by any of this.”
Gary gave another shrug. “What good does getting upset do? Besides, we like to think we’re good members of the community. We provide a service to the people living here, and if we screw up, we want to make things right.”
And there was his quote. Jarrett wrote it down on his pad of paper.
Satisfied he’d gotten what he could from the man, he thanked him for his time and headed back out to his car.
He turned the key in the ignition so he could get the A/C going and finished jotting down a few quick notes about the story. It was a low-profile piece for sure, and definitely wouldn’t be front-page news, but at least he’d gotten some material to work with. He finished writing and tossed the pen and pad of paper back in his bag, then pulled out of the gravel drive and pointed his car in the direction of the police station.
He wanted to see what info he could dig up on the guy accused of selling the pipes. He had a name, and he knew he could do plenty of digging himself, but if Nate was willing to spill some extra details, he’d be all ears.
He parked in one of the visitor’s spaces in front of the station, grabbed his bag, and headed inside. Nate was already at his desk, chugging coffee and sifting through papers.
Jarrett slid into the seat across from his desk.
Nate looked up and grimaced. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Jarrett gave his friend an easy grin. “Is that any way to treat a friend?”
“You aren’t here as a friend,” Nate pointed out. “Not at eight o’clock in the morning. What do you want?”
Jarrett leaned back in his chair, kicking his legs out in front of him. “What do you know about the metals story?”
“The what?”
“Superior Metals. Cam visited them late last week. Slapped some fines on the company for failure to comply with APS rules and then booked a guy selling stolen goods.”
Nate shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, or you just aren’t paying attention?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, now that you’ve got a wedding to plan…”
Nate’s eyes shot daggers at him. “Fuck off.”
Jarrett grinned. He had to admit, it was kind of fun getting under Nate’s skin.
“So you’re telling me I need to talk to Cam about this?” This was almost laughable. If Nate was a hard ass, Cam was basically made of stone. Getting info from her was like pulling teeth. All of them.
Nate gave him a nod.
“I have the name of the guy who sold the goods.” Jarrett straightened, bringing himself closer to Nate’s desk. “Think you could run it, see if he has any formers? Or if Superior has any other infractions?”
“I could.”
Jarrett chuckled. “But…?”
“You can poke around yourself.” Nate reached for his coffee. “Give your sorry ass something to do.”
“Fine,” Jarrett said, still grinning. “I’ll look myself.” He yanked out his phone and opened his search engine, tapped in the name of the company and started scrolling through the results.
He glanced up quickly before returning his gaze to his phone. Nate was watching him, an unreadable expression on his face.
Then Nate sighed, and Jarrett heard the sound of his chair squeaking as he shifted it forward, closer to his computer. The unmistakable sound of fingers hitting keys made him smile again.
“Nothing about the company as far as other infractions,” Nate said. “Looks like it changed ownership a couple of years ago.”
Jarrett was looking at different information than Nate, since he didn’t have access to the
database Nate had at his fingertips, but he’d essentially found the same thing. “Yeah, new owner right before APS was introduced.”
Footsteps sounded, and Jarrett looked up.
And did a double take.
Jessica Claret was standing next to his chair, her hair damp, her face scrubbed clean. She was dressed in denim shorts and a white camisole that showed off her curves and her sun-kissed skin.
It was an effort to close his mouth and tear his eyes away from her, but he somehow managed.
“Hey, Jess,” Nate offered in greeting.
Her eyes were on Jarrett.
He smiled and she quickly averted her eyes, and he remembered the last time he’d seen her.
At Shorty’s.
She’d stopped at his table, a little flustered, a little tongue-tied, and a hell of a lot adorable, and if he hadn’t been so damned wrapped up in what he and Charlie had just finished talking about, he would have taken her up on her offer of getting another drink.
He would have liked to spend some time with her.
Maybe a lot of time.
“Looks like you guys are deep into something,” Jess said, nodding at Jarrett’s phone and then glancing at Nate’s computer. She squinted, and Jarrett imagined she was trying to see what was on the detective’s monitor.
“Jarrett’s trying to weasel information out of me about a story,” Nate told her.
Jarrett turned his attention back to Nate. “It’s working, isn’t it?”
Nate chuckled. “Not hardly.”
“Oh?” Jess folded her arms. “What story is that?”
Nate was dismissive. “Some case Cam worked last week. Metals recycling.”
Something flickered across Jessica’s face. “What about it?”
“Nothing,” Nate said. “Jarrett’s just hunting up info for a story. Isn’t that right?”
Jarrett nodded, but he couldn’t help but notice Jessica’s expression before she nodded and walked away.
There was no other way to describe it.
She looked hurt.
And then angry.
And he had no idea why.
9
Tuesday, June 27
9:15 am
Dammit.
Jessica was more than pissed.
She was sitting in her car, engine still off, letting the heat build. It suited her mood.
She closed her eyes and threw her head back against the headrest. Frustration and anger overwhelmed her, and she hated that she was so emotional about this.
It was a case. A stupid case, at that. Some guy who sold stolen metal, and a company that neglected to follow procedure.
So why was she so upset?
It was an easy question to answer.
She knew exactly why.
Because she wasn’t involved.
And because everyone else was.
She rubbed her temple, brushing the damp strands of hair off her forehead. Even Jarrett Pryor had his nose in the case…and Nate was helping him.
Once she’d gotten over the initial shock of seeing him, she’d begun to wonder.
She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why he’d come to the station if he really was there because of the Superior Metals case. It was a minor story at best. Stuff like that happened all the time in Aspen Falls. If it had been an assault or a robbery, his presence would have made sense. But theft? Stolen property? That felt like a simple write-up in the paper’s crime round-up section.
She sighed.
What the hell did it matter to her why he was there?
Because you like him, a voice whispered in her head. Because butterflies erupted in your stomach the minute you laid eyes on him.
She shook her head, as if doing so would somehow quiet the words her brain was telling her.
The only thing she should be caring about was that he was getting information about a case she should have worked.
A case that had been given to someone else.
She hated that it bugged her so much. She didn’t want it to, but it did.
She tried to rustle up some anger toward Camila, but failed. It wasn’t her fault. She’d just been doing her job. Kellan had told her to go check things out at the recycling center, and she’d done so.
Jess could be angry with her boss, but even that didn’t make much sense. He was just doing his job, too. And all he’d done was make sure the right person had looked into the situation. Jess had told him about it right when her shift was ending, so it made perfect sense for him to send out someone who was available. In this case, it had been Camila.
She sighed again.
There was only one person to blame, one person to be angry with.
Herself.
10
Thursday, June 28
7:30 am
Jarrett yawned and reached for the coffee in his cup holder.
He was sitting outside of an older rambler situation about six blocks from the community college. Despite the early hour, a construction van was already on site, and a crew was up on top of the roof, flinging black roofing tiles to the ground.
He glanced at the time displayed on the dash. When he’d called Alaina, she told him she’d be at this particular job site sometime around eight o’clock. He’d erred on the side of caution and gotten there ahead of time, not wanting to arrive too late and then run the risk of missing her.
The sound of a car engine pulling in next to him got his attention. A large SUV parked on his right, and he watched as Alaina hopped out of the driver’s side. He bit back a smile as he noted how small she looked next to her behemoth of a car. She was probably 5’2 on a good day.
He opened his own car door and worked his way in her direction.
She eyed him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, her smile reserved.
“How are you?” he said as he extended his hand.
She shifted the folders she was holding into her left hand and shook. Her grip was firm, catching him a little off guard.
“Fine,” she said, her tone a little guarded. She shielded her eyes from the early morning sun. “What can I do for you?”
Anyone else might think she was being standoffish but Jarrett knew better. Although their paths hadn’t crossed much over the years, he knew about her, and he knew her story. She’d carved out a successful business for herself, buying old houses and renovating them, then selling them for a profit. Stepping into a world dominated by men couldn’t have been easy, but she’d done it. And she’d thrived.
Jarrett didn’t think she’d gotten where she was by pussyfooting around anything.
And she certainly wasn’t going to pussyfoot around him. She’d already proved that when they’d argued over what information he was going to include in a story he’d written about one of the renovations she was working on.
“Heard you might have had an unwelcome guest a few days ago,” he said. “Sometime last week?”
Alaina’s delicate features puckered into a frown. “Guest? You mean the asshole who broke in and ripped out all the copper piping in the basement?”
Jarrett nodded. He’d done a little digging the day before and found out that the house where Bruce had lifted the pipes was one Alaina had recently purchased. It had sat empty for a few months and she’d just closed on it last week, had gotten contractors lined up and ready to go. Either Bruce knew his window of time to make his move was closing, or he’d just decided that house was going to be his target. Either way, Alaina was the victim.
Jarrett couldn’t ask Bruce Lindell about it, since he was currently sitting in a cell in the county jail. They’d manage to tie him to a couple of other thefts in neighboring counties, and with the charges continuing to mount, he hadn’t been able to post bail.
Which meant Jarrett hadn’t been able to talk to him.
And meant Alaina might be his only source of information about it.
“At least they got the stolen property back,” he said to her, trying to offer some small consolation.
“What do you mean, what to do with him?”
“If he’s going to stand trial. That kind of thing.” She blew out a breath. “So yeah, looks like I’ll be buying new pipes.”
He felt bad for her. “That probably wasn’t an expense you were counting on.”
Alaina shrugged. “There’s always the possibility of running into unexpected expenses when you flip a house. If anything, I’d say it’s unusual when there isn’t something that comes up.”
At least she had a good attitude about it; he’d give her that.
He waited for a minute, his thoughts circling back to the conversation he’d had with Dorothy last week.
“So this is pretty common, then? In the houses you buy?”
She raised her eyebrows. “What? That people rip out the pipes?”
“No,” he said with a chuckle. “Dealing with crap like that. Stuff you don’t expect.”
“Oh yeah, definitely. It’s always something.”
“You bought another house recently, right?”
She cocked her head. “I’m always buying houses.”
“Right,” he said, still smiling. “This one was a few months ago. Out by County Road 12.”
Her expression immediately sobered. “Oh, yeah.”
“What? Something up at that house, too?”
“No, the flip went fine. Just sad circumstances.”
“The sick little boy. Kyle, I think is his name?”
“How did you know?” she asked. “Were you friends with them? Write an article or something?”
Jarrett shook his head. “No, just heard through the grapevine.” He paused, debating how he should bring up what he really wanted to ask.
“Why are you asking about him?”
She was too shrewd, too perceptive for him to try to beat around the bush. He decided the best approach with Alaina would be too simply go ahead and ask. “You think anything in the house might have made him sick?”
Dire Straits Page 6