by Gerri Hill
“Don’t even think about it,” Andrea whispered.
Cameron gave a quiet laugh, turning her attention to the clerk instead.
“Excuse me,” Andrea said. “I’m Agent Sullivan, this is Special Agent Ross.” She discreetly flashed her FBI credentials, Cameron doing the same.
“Yes?”
“We’re investigating a murder. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Me?”
Cameron noticed the trembling of the clerk’s hands and the nervous twitch of her eyes. Unfortunately, FBI badges tended to have that effect on people.
“You’re not in any kind of trouble, ma’am,” she said quickly. “Do you have...working girls here?”
“Huh?”
Cameron glanced at Andrea for help.
“Prostitutes,” Andrea supplied.
“Oh, no. Of course not,” she said, her face turning red. “That’s not allowed.”
“I know it’s not,” Cameron said. “Look, is your manager here?”
“Yes,” she said with relief. “I’ll get him.”
Andrea turned to her and grinned. “Why do you scare people?”
“Me? No, this one’s on you.” She stepped aside, gently guiding Andrea around the counter where they waited for the manager. “They may have two managers, one at night. If so, they would probably have a better knowledge of the working girls,” she said. Her phone vibrated against her leg, and she pulled it out of her pocket, sighing when she saw Rowan’s name. “I should have never given him my number,” she mumbled. “Ross,” she said, moving farther away from the counter.
“Rowan here again. I wanted to let you know that I found our vet clinic,” he said.
Cameron drew her brows together, wondering when she asked him to search. “Murdock was going to run that down. What did you find?”
“Well, I’ve got a program that will dump data from several different databases and compile and sort at will. I downloaded the—”
“Cut to the chase, Rowan,” she said impatiently.
“Sorry. A vet clinic in Morongo Valley reported a break-in ten months ago. Phenobarbital was on the list of drugs stolen.”
“Good job. I’m hoping Reynolds is on his way there now?”
“Yes ma’am. He and Carina. Jack and Eric are going to talk to the police and see if there were any suspects.”
“Great. Keep me posted,” she said and disconnected quickly as the manager walked over.
“I’m Donald Auger, what can I do for the FBI?”
“Can we speak in private?” Andrea asked.
“Sure. My office is back here,” he said, motioning between the rows of chips and peanuts to a back door marked ‘private.’
They followed him inside what appeared to be no more than a cluttered storeroom with a desk shoved in one corner. A large monitor broken into four sections streamed surveillance camera footage and another one showed snapshots of the registers out front. There was only one visitor’s chair and Cameron nodded at Andrea who claimed it.
“Sorry. I don’t normally have visitors back here,” he explained as he sat at his messy desk. “What can I do for you?”
“How well do you know the ladies who work the lots at night?” Andrea asked.
He didn’t pretend to not know what she was talking about. “Look, we don’t condone it, but we can’t really keep them away. The security guys we hire are just for show really,” he said.
“We’re not here to bust you,” Cameron said. “We have three dead women, two are unidentified. One had a tattoo on her shoulder.” She glanced at Andrea who pulled up the photo on her phone and handed it to Mr. Auger. His eyes widened.
“Linda. Linda Blake.” He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “She’s been around a while. Everyone knew her.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
“Maybe a week, maybe more. It’s hard to know. They come and go.”
“Does the name Monica Riddle ring a bell?”
He shook his head. “But they don’t all use their real names,” he said. “Linda actually goes by Lori Lou on the streets. What happened to Linda?”
“Her body was found along I-10,” Cameron said, omitting any details.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“Did Linda have any problems with any of the truckers?” Andrea asked. “Anybody ever threaten her?”
“No. She was well liked.” Then he blushed. “I mean, you know. She’s been around here on and off for ten years or so.”
“Do you know her age?”
“She looked older than she was. It’s a hard life for these girls. She may have been thirty,” he said.
“On and off?” Andrea prompted. “What do you mean?”
“The girls will hang around for a few months, then next thing you know, they’re gone. Six months later, they show up again.”
“So no one would really consider them missing. Like Linda,” Andrea said.
“Right.”
“They get rides out with truckers?” Cameron asked.
“Yeah. Mostly. They take them to another stop along the way and the girls work that one for a while. It’s like a circuit,” he said. “Unfortunately, it’s one most of them can’t get out of.”
“Do you think some of the girls would talk to us?”
He shrugged. “Hard to say. They don’t trust cops. But if you want to talk to them, they come out at dark.”
“What do you think?” Cameron asked as they sat in the truck, the AC blasting cool air around them.
“I think we’re damn lucky to get a hit on our first stop,” Andrea said. “But still, he picks her up here and then what? Where did he kill her? Did he promise to take her somewhere? LA maybe?”
“Does he have a bag with him, syringe all ready?”
“From where her body was found and here is over a two-hour drive. Is that all the time he has with her? You would assume he’d take her somewhere to kill her and not use his truck. Then there’s the matter of the heads.”
“So you’re not liking the trucker theory now?” she asked. “Local?”
Andrea shrugged. “No, I don’t think a local. Too dangerous. Too many people would know you.”
“I agree. You can remain anonymous at truck stops. Pay by credit card at the pumps, you never have to go inside.”
“Have we thought about that?” Andrea asked. “Credit card receipts?”
“What?”
But Andrea shook her head. “Never mind. I’m overthinking,” she said. “We only have the one truck stop so far.”
“Okay, yeah. If we can find where Monica Riddle worked, then we can have Rowan run receipts and see if we have a match at both places.”
“Of course, seeing as how big this place is, we could have hundreds of matches.” She paused. “What was Rowan’s call about earlier?”
“He found a vet clinic,” Cameron said. “Reynolds and Carina were going to check it out. Morongo Valley. Do you know where that is?”
“It’s north of I-10. Not that far from Indio.”
Cameron watched Andrea’s reaction to the mention of her former lover. It was very subtle, but she could see a slight tightening of Andrea’s jaw. It had been as much of a surprise to her as Andrea that they’d meet up with an old lover, much less team with her. She hadn’t seen Carina since she left Rome, and she hadn’t really given her much thought over the years. They were lovers, yes, but nothing more. And no matter how flirtatious or how many sexual innuendos she dropped, Cameron wasn’t the least bit interested. She was no longer that person. What she had with Andrea was far more than she thought she’d ever have with someone...far more than she thought she even deserved.
“Burglary or rogue vet?”
Cameron smiled. “Burglary. But you have to admit a rogue vet would be much more interesting.”
“Did he have details?”
“I didn’t ask. Eric and Jack were checking with the police. He said it was reported about ten months ago.”
&nbs
p; “Will this help us?”
Cameron started the truck and pulled out to the highway. “Only if they have suspects.” She glanced at Andrea. “What’s next on the list?”
“Barstow.”
“I don’t remember seeing a truck stop,” she said as she sped up to beat a truck.
“It’s on the west side, before the city limits. We didn’t take that route,” Andrea reminded her. “By Rowan’s notes, it appears to be as large as this one.”
They were silent as she drove, Andrea reading through the notes on her phone. Cameron’s gaze traveled across the desert, wondering at the attraction. While remote and wild, it held none of the charm that Sedona did, at least not for her. It appeared to be devoid of life—only sand and rocks, cactus and scrub brush with no vibrant green to be found.
“Tell me about you and Carina,” Andrea said unexpectedly.
As was her habit, Cameron tried to find a deeper meaning to Andrea’s request other than simple interest on her part. Was it just curiosity? Did Andrea feel threatened? So she shrugged nonchalantly.
“Nothing much to tell. We were in Rome. She was working for the CIA back then. We had a joint mission.” She glanced at Andrea quickly, then back to the road. “It was a short-lived affair.”
“Because you left?”
“Yes. Like I said, I haven’t seen her since.”
Andrea put her phone away. “She’s very pretty. Glamorous. She could be a model.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “She’s also very good at her job. Or she was back then. The sign of a good operative is to never let it get personal,” she said.
Andrea stared at her. “Is that why you think you failed? You let it get personal?”
Cameron knew Andrea was no longer speaking about Carina but rather her days as a sniper, as the assassin she turned out to be.
“Yes.”
Andrea reached over and rubbed her hand against her thigh, squeezing lightly. “I’m glad you failed then, Cameron. Killing should be personal. I’m glad you’re not that person anymore.”
Cameron covered Andrea’s hand, holding it against her leg. It was one of the things she loved about Andrea. Such simple words, yet they had profound meaning to her. Andrea had no more questions and the silence settled around them again, their hands still linked as she drove toward Barstow.
CHAPTER TEN
After a fruitless visit to the truck stop in Barstow—no one had heard of Monica Riddle—they once again found themselves in Reynolds’s hotel room. This time, a much less luxurious Holiday Inn in Indio, not far from the resort where the rig was parked.
“Clean entry,” Eric said. “The alarm was disabled.”
“With the code or a bypass?”
“Bypass. It wasn’t anything sophisticated,” he said.
“Police did the standard check on all employees, including the doctor himself. They didn’t have video surveillance. It’s just a small-town clinic, one doctor,” Jack said.
“And no suspects?” Andrea asked.
Eric gave her a smile, a smile Cameron was growing to hate. He seemingly couldn’t keep his eyes off Andrea. “Not a one.”
“Besides the phenobarbital, propofol and ketamine were also stolen.”
“And ketamine was on both coroner’s reports,” she said, nodding. “So we’ve found our source. Who’s our guy?”
“I don’t see your normal long-haul trucker pulling a vet clinic burglary,” Andrea said.
“So back to thinking it’s a local?” Cameron asked.
“I disagree with your partner,” Carina chipped in. “Why not a trucker? The clinic is just off of the highway. He may pass it every time he travels this route. He would know it well.”
Cameron again saw the slight tightening of Andrea’s jaw, yet she hid it with a smile.
“I suppose you’re right,” Andrea said. “But it’s a little conspicuous having a big rig parked in front of a vet clinic in the middle of the night.”
“We can speculate one way or the other all day long,” Reynolds said. “It doesn’t really help us.”
“Speculating is how you form possible scenarios,” Cameron countered. “We have no evidence, no suspects.”
“Speculating can send you down the wrong path,” he said.
“At least it’s a path, Reynolds. Unlike you, using Collie’s habit of sitting on your ass until evidence is dropped in your lap,” she said a bit louder than she intended.
“Are we going to start this again?” Jack asked. “Every time you two have a disagreement, Collie is going to be brought into it? Can’t the man rest in peace?”
“I agree,” Reynolds said.
“Great,” Cameron said. “Quit acting like Collie and I’ll quit bringing him up.”
Andrea cleared her throat, her eyes purposefully avoiding Cameron’s.
“How about dinner?” she asked. “I’m starving.”
“Me too,” Eric chimed in. “Perhaps we can discuss our evidence—or lack thereof—over a drink.”
“Dinner is sounding better and better,” Carina said as she moved beside Cameron, linking their arms together. “Maybe we could catch up, yes?”
Cameron’s eyes flew to Andrea then realized everyone was watching so she nodded. “Sure.”
“Okay, dinner,” Reynolds said. “But I want normal food.”
“Normal?” Eric asked.
“Yes. Not Mexican, not Italian, not Chinese. Normal. In other words, I want a steak.” Then he looked at the group as he adjusted his tie. “Please tell me no one’s a vegetarian on this team.” He smiled when no one spoke up. “Great. Steak it is.” He looked pointedly at Cameron and Andrea. “You two are going to change, right?”
“Change?”
“Clothes,” he clarified.
“No,” they said in unison.
Reynolds was a stickler for suits and ties, she knew, but Cameron didn’t know he had a fetish about it.
“I hardly think what you’re wearing is proper.”
“Well, if they won’t let us in, we’ll have to settle for pizza or something,” Cameron said with a smile as she glanced at Andrea.
Rowan was able to locate the most popular steakhouse with a few keystrokes and he announced that it appeared to be casual attire. Cameron was hoping for the opposite. Not that she wouldn’t mind having a steak, but she was actually afraid of what Carina might be planning.
They settled on taking two vehicles and thankfully, Eric and Rowan got into Cameron’s backseat before Carina could. Even then, for a second she wished her truck wasn’t a super cab as she saw Eric’s eyes following Andrea’s every move as she brought the monitor to life.
“Sweet,” Eric murmured. “You have an onboard computer?”
“Yes.”
“Always connected?”
“When we have service.”
Rowan stuck his head over the seat. “Did Jason design this?”
Cameron and Andrea exchanged amused looks. “Yes,” she said. “When they asked me what I needed, they put this together along with the motor home’s computers at Quantico.”
“What kind of computer do you have in your motor home?” Rowan asked. “Do you have a server? Do you—”
“There’s a lot of stuff,” she said. “I don’t know what all of it is, and Jason won’t let me touch most of it so he logs in remotely. But yes, there is a server. I’ve got some algorithms that Jason wrote that I can run.”
“How cool,” he said. “I’d love to see your setup sometime. Do you know how big your server is?”
Cameron had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Jesus, he wanted to do the geek-speak with her. “He said it’s a beefy server, whatever that means,” she said.
“Can I see it sometime?”
Cameron again glanced at Andrea. “Sure.”
“Calm down, man,” Eric teased. “You got a hard-on for her computer. We get it.”
Rowan blushed profusely but thankfully sat back without asking any further questions.
Te
n minutes later they were pulling into the crowded restaurant parking lot and Cameron wondered how much work they would be able to discuss if the place was packed. She scowled as Eric politely held Andrea’s door open for her while she got out. Rowan tried to do the same to her but apparently the look on her face scared him away.
“Be nice,” Andrea whispered as they waited for Reynolds’s group to join them.
“I’m hoping for a ‘no jeans’ sign on the door,” she murmured back with a smile.
As soon as they were led to a table, Andrea and Cameron became separated as Carina took the opportunity to sit next to Cameron. Andrea found herself between Eric and Rowan with Cameron at the opposite end. She smiled a thank you when Eric held her chair out for her. He was attentive, and she hoped it was only politeness on his part.
“So, what’s a pretty gal like you doing in a job like this?”
She laughed. “Same thing as you are, I guess.”
He grinned. “Can’t be the money. Love of country?”
She shrugged. “Once a cop, always a cop?”
He leaned back as a waiter placed a glass with water next to him, then he put his arm behind her chair and moved closer.
“So you really live in a motor home?”
“Yes, we really do.”
“Pretty crowded for two people, isn’t it?”
“A little. But the loveseat makes into a bed, so we still have our own space.”
He laughed quietly. “I’m going to guess you don’t even know how that loveseat works, do you?”
She felt a blush but could not hide it. She doubted it would do any good to deny it. “Is it that obvious?”
“Oh, it’s not talked about if that’s what you mean,” he said. “But obvious, yes.” He leaned closer, his voice quiet. “Because Cameron is giving me the stare down.”
“I don’t know why. She’s got Carina all up her ass,” Andrea said without thinking.
Eric laughed loudly causing everyone else at the table to stare at them. Again, she felt a blush and only dared to meet Cameron’s eyes briefly.
“Sorry,” he said to the group.
“Something funny? Want to share?” Reynolds asked.
“No, no. Andrea just...made a funny,” he said. “Sorry,” he whispered to her.