by Gerri Hill
“Right. Avoid the boulder trap, go around it, then back on the trail.” She shrugged. “Of course, that’s been a month. Small chance these tracks are from our guy.” She walked back to the trail where they’d come from, looking for signs of where the four-wheeler would have gotten back on track. She didn’t see anything that looked disturbed. She turned back around, feeling Cameron’s eyes on her. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw just what Cameron had been looking at. “You were checking out my ass? Seriously?”
“What? You have a very nice...derriere. There’s nothing wrong with looking.”
“Really? Nothing at all?”
Cameron smiled. “I haven’t made it a secret that I find you attractive.”
Andrea put her hands on her hips and stared at her. “Your original dinner date notwithstanding—I’m not interested.”
“No? Still holding out for Rosa, the waitress?”
“For your information, I’m not holding out for anyone, least of all you,” she said as she stomped back to her horse.
“Oh, I see. Still grieving.” Cameron shrugged. “It’s been what? Three years now? How long are you going to carry that torch?”
Andrea pulled herself into the saddle, turning her horse around to face Cameron. “That’s cruel, even for you. How long I grieve for someone I loved is my own damn business.” She nudged her horse, then stopped. “Or is that something you can’t relate to? Loving someone?”
“Now who’s being cruel?” Cameron took the reins of her horse and walked closer. “I have loved before, you know.”
“Oh really? And is it classified as well?”
“Look, my whole damn life is classified.”
“Of course it is. It’s easier that way. Then you don’t have to talk about it. I just wish you would afford me the same luxury.”
Cameron held out her hands. “Why are we fighting?”
“You started it.”
“Me? All I did was look at your ass.”
“Exactly.”
Andrea jerked her horse around Cameron, continuing down the trail. She didn’t know why she’d gotten so upset. So Cameron was ogling her ass? Frankly, other than Rosa, no one had even bothered to flirt with her since she’d been in Sedona. She should be flattered.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Cameron called from behind her. “So you’ve got a nice ass? I’ll refrain from looking at it.”
Andrea hid her smile. She knew she’d severely overreacted, but she was enjoying hearing Cameron grovel in her apology. “Sure,” she called back, as sarcastically as she could manage.
“I mean it. I’ll also quit trying to imagine you naked.”
Andrea whipped her head around, her retort dying on her lips when she saw the grin Cameron sported. “Oh, so now you’re teasing me.”
Cameron kneed her horse, breaking into a trot to catch up with Andrea. “Teasing? No.” Her eyes raked across Andrea’s body, pausing at her breasts. “I would just imagine you’d have—”
“Stop.”
Cameron laughed. “Okay, I’ll stop. But really, you went a little nuts—”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Andrea said.
“I wasn’t trying to belittle your relationship,” Cameron said. “But if you carry your grief too long, you stop living yourself.”
And as quick as that, Andrea got angry all over again. “You have no idea how difficult that was for me. Maybe you can relate. Maybe you’ve had something similar happen to you, but you don’t know me. And you don’t know what I went through. Alone. So don’t tell me when to stop grieving.”
“You weren’t the one killed, Andrea.”
“Yeah? Well maybe sometimes I wish I had been.” She kicked her horse harder than she intended, sending it bolting down the trail, away from Cameron Ross.
Cameron knew she should heed Andrea’s words that it was none of her concern. She also failed to take her own advice. Mind your own business. Truth was, she liked Andrea and she hated to see that haunted, soulless look in her eyes sometimes. Grief was a powerful emotion, especially if you had to endure it alone. And especially if the line blurred between grief and guilt.
She went inside the sheriff’s department with only a curt nod at the receptionist. The only deputy she knew by name was Randy and that only because he tended to the horses for them. The young man who looked at her now was the one who had sat next to Andrea the other day when she’d first arrived.
“I’m Cameron Ross,” she said, offering her hand.
“Joey Turner,” he replied, squeezing her hand firmly. He looked behind her. “Where’s Andi?”
“She wasn’t feeling well. She decided to call it a day.”
“Well, what’s wrong? Andi is never sick. I don’t think she’s ever missed a day.”
Cameron lost her patience and moved past him. “I’m sure she’s fine. Is Jim in?”
“He’s in his office.”
Cameron saw the worried look on his face as he picked up the phone, no doubt to call Andrea to check on her. Good luck with that, she thought. After the way she and Andrea had spent the last three hours, she wouldn’t imagine his phone call would be answered.
She knocked lightly on Jim’s opened door, smiling when he looked up.
“Cameron, come on in.” He, too, looked behind her. “Andi?”
“She went home.” Cameron shut the door. “I guess she did, anyway,” she added.
“What’s wrong?”
“You tell me.”
“What do you mean?”
Cameron leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs. “How much do you know about her past?”
Jim tossed the toothpick he’d been chewing on his desk and folded his hands together. “I know more than she thinks if that’s what you mean.”
“You pulled her file?”
“Of course.”
“And you hired her anyway?”
He twisted the edge of his wiry mustache between his thumb and forefinger, a slight smile playing on his lips. “I liked her so much, I wanted to hire her first thing. But then when she wouldn’t tell me anything other than superficial stuff, well, I got curious.”
“And?”
“And I’ve wanted to pull my weapon on a superior or two before,” he said with a laugh. But his smile faded quickly. “It’s tragic what happened and she’s told me a little about it over the last year. She’s never mentioned a word of it to the others, and I’ve kept her confidence.” He watched her. “I’m assuming you know.”
She nodded. “Yes. FBI background check.”
“On all of us? Did you find any skeletons in my closet?”
At the look he gave her, Cameron was nearly embarrassed they’d done any checking at all. “Actually, it was all pretty much preliminary,” she said. “We wanted to check prior experience and see who might be best able to assist.” She shrugged apologetically. “When I tried to find out more from Andrea, she refused to discuss it. I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“I see.” He leaned back in his chair and linked his hands behind his head. “So now you want a new partner?”
“No. Quite the opposite. She’s extremely competent. She knows her way around out there,” she said. “I told her I’d done a background check on her and she was pissed as hell.”
“No doubt.”
“It prompted her to tell me some,” she said.
“I’m surprised. As I said, she’s not mentioned a word of it to anyone here. In fact, she pretty much keeps to herself, other than a few dinners out with us once in awhile.”
“So she doesn’t have a crowd she hangs with, people she dates?”
Jim snorted. “Rosa is the closest she’s come to dating and that’s not saying much, seeing as how they’ve not dated.”
“You know about her partner then?”
“You mean that they were...involved?”
Cameron nodded. “I see you do.”
He looked at her thoughtfully, then leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his desk. “Did
she tell you about her parents?”
“No. What?”
But Jim shook his head. “I’ll save that for her, if she chooses. It has no bearing on this,” he said. He tapped his desk with his fingers. “You’re worried about her though?”
“Yes. I feel like she’s a good cop, but I want to be sure.”
“She’s the best I got. She’ll have your back, Cameron. She lost her team, lost her partner, lost her best friend. I doubt she’ll ever let that happen again.”
“Sometimes those things are out of our control. Like it was for her then.”
“And she won’t be able to handle it, is that what you’re saying?”
“I think she’s walking a very thin line right now, Jim. She’s trying to keep her past and her present separate. Almost like two different lifetimes. They’re bound to collide sooner or later.”
Again he studied her, making her nearly uncomfortable under his thoughtful gaze.
“May I ask you a personal question?”
“Ask away,” she said easily. That, of course, didn’t mean she’d answer him.
“You’ve been here a handful of days, you’ve spent time with Andi. I’m assuming your concern for her is professional, not personal.”
It was a statement that surprised her and she flashed a quick grin. “I don’t mix business with pleasure, Jim, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Good. Because Andi would cringe to hear me say this, but I’ve always thought of her as tough as nails when it came to the job. But emotionally, she’s always carried a look of vulnerability about her.” He met her gaze head on. “I would hate to see her get hurt.”
“Understood. Like I said, my interest in her is totally professional.”
“Wonderful.” He picked up his earlier discarded toothpick and plopped it back in his mouth. “Now, are you making any progress with the case?”
Chapter Thirteen
“I swear, Collie, you’re so goddamn stubborn, a clue could bite you in the ass and you’d ignore it.”
“The fact that the ME has established a match in the knife wounds is irrelevant. It gets us nowhere closer to solving this case.”
“No. It just links seven murders and establishes a serial killer’s pattern,” she said. “And I think you owe Deputy Sullivan an apology for trashing her research.”
“What? Her linking of nearly every unsolved murder in the U.S. going back ten years? That’s real genius.”
“Apparently so. They’re still analyzing the data, but they’re prepared to link the cases.”
“They? The computer geeks the FBI hires?” He laughed. “Unless I get a confession from the killer or have concrete DNA evidence, I don’t link anything. You’d be wise to do the same.”
Cameron had tired of this conversation. “Okay, Collie, so we’ve given you the name of the killer. What do you have? Crime scene? DNA? You found a murder weapon yet?”
“The name? Patrick Doe? Yeah, that’s real helpful, Ross. That’ll get us going for sure.”
She heard the dead space and looked at her cell, seeing that the call had ended. Oh, she missed the good old days where you could actually hang up on someone with the slam of the phone.
“Asshole.” Fucker.
She had just tossed her phone on the sofa and picked up the kitten when it rang. She lightly nuzzled the kitten’s fur, much like she’d seen Andrea do.
“Maybe he’s calling to apologize for hanging up on me, huh?” She let it ring a couple more times before picking it up. “Ross.”
“It’s me. There’s another body.”
“Oak Creek Canyon again?”
“No. Sycamore. The Dogie Trail. It runs along the creek.”
“Okay. Are you on your way?” She filled the kitten’s food bowl as she passed by, then unlocked the file cabinet in her office, carefully taking out her service weapon.
“I’ll wait on you. I sent Joey out to close the trail.”
“Good. I’ll be there in five.”
“Look, about yesterday—”
“Can we just not talk about it, please.”
“I just wanted to apologize,” Cameron said.
“Fine. Accepted. Let’s move on.”
“You don’t want to discuss—”
“No.” Andrea gave a forced smile. “I don’t.”
She turned her attention back to the road, thankful the drive to Sycamore Canyon wasn’t a long one. She should have known Cameron would want to discuss their little argument. When she first met her, she would never have guessed Cameron was the type to talk so much.
“Who found the body?” Cameron asked after the silence apparently became too much for her.
“Hikers,” she said. “Locals, actually. Ben Speers and his wife. They own the tire place on the north side, on the road to Flagstaff.” She smiled, knowing Cameron could care less who they are. “In case you wanted to question them,” she added.
“I assume you already have.”
“Just briefly. Sheriff Baker took their statement, not me.”
“I’m sure Jim got all the details we need. Namely, did they disturb the scene?”
“They assured me they didn’t get close enough for that.”
“I guess it is a little unnerving to the people who live here.”
“You mean because we’ve become a dumping ground? Yes,” Andrea said. “The only thing keeping the town from going into panic mode is the fact that none of the victims are locals. Of course most are worried how this will affect the tourists.” She slowed as they approached Red Canyon Road which would take them to the lower end of Sycamore Canyon. “This is a nice hike through the canyon here,” she said. “A lot less crowded then Oak Creek.”
“But still used daily?”
“Oh, yes. It’s not as remote as the Rim Trail,” she said.
“So he wouldn’t have been taking a chance that this body would go unnoticed then.”
“No. The Dogie Trail gets enough usage, especially up to Taylor Cabin. It’s five miles in, then five back. There are a few side trails, if you’re looking for solitude.” She didn’t mention those were the trails she normally took when hiking here. “Parson’s Trail goes up to the springs, the only year-round water in the canyon. The creek is seasonal,” she added.
“Is that a practiced tour guide speech or are you familiar with the trails firsthand?”
“When I’ve got the time, I hike here, yes,” she said. “I mostly go up Oak Creek though. It’s practically at my back door.”
She parked her old Jeep at the trailhead next to Joey’s new truck. She saw the amused expression on Cameron’s face as she cast a dubious glance at the brand-new sheriff’s department truck and then at her Jeep, the insignia mostly faded on the doors now.
“Because I like it,” she said, answering Cameron’s unspoken question about the old Jeep. She opened the cooler on the back and pulled out two cold water bottles, tossing one at Cameron. “Here. You’ll need this.”
“How far in?”
“Not too far. About halfway, they said.”
“Horses?”
“What? You afraid of hiking?”
“No. I was thinking of the time, that’s all.”
“Horses aren’t allowed on the Dogie Trail,” she said, taking the lead.
“Surely we could have made an exception,” Cameron said.
Andrea laughed. “It’s ninety-five degrees and not a cloud in the sky. Could that have anything to do with your time issue?”
“Perhaps.”
Andrea walked on, trying to ignore her hiking partner. She hadn’t been on this trail since early spring, and she’d forgotten how scenic it was, even following the now dry Sycamore Creek.
“It’s pretty down here,” Cameron said, as if reading her thoughts.
“Yes. Spring is best. The creek flows then, everything is green.”
“This is the kind of place I always imagined sneaking off to when I was a kid.”
“Why didn’t you actually do it?�
�
“Because these places didn’t exist.”
“Where did you grow up?” Andrea asked. “Or is that classified too?”
“I grew up...nowhere. Everywhere.”
Andrea stopped, waiting for an explanation.
“Military brat,” Cameron said. “Navy. Seems like every few years, we’d move to a new base.”
“You hated it?”
“You get used to it,” she said.
Andrea continued along the trail, wondering how many questions she could ask before Cameron shut her off. “I figured you grew up in California,” she said.
“Why?”
“Blond hair, blue eyes. Tan. Beach bum.”
“And all of that just screams California?”
“You could be the poster child, yes. You look like you belong on the beach.”
“We spent some time in California. Florida, too. So yeah, I hung around a few beaches.”
“Where did you spend your high school years?”
“Washington State.”
“Really? What about—”
“Enough. I think you’ve reached your limit.”
Andrea laughed. “I was just getting started.”
“Why are you so curious about me?”
“Why not? You’re curious about me.”
“My curiosity is totally professional,” Cameron said.
Andrea stopped abruptly, causing Cameron to bump into her. “And how does checking out my ass fall into that category?”
Cameron raised her eyebrows. “You really want to start that conversation up again?” Cameron moved past her. “I’ll lead. That way you can check out my ass.”
Andrea’s gaze involuntarily dropped to the ass in question. As usual, Cameron’s jeans were loose, faded, comfortable looking. And the rhythmic swaying of her hips as she walked had Andrea mesmerized. That is, until the swaying stopped.
“Are you coming or what?”
Andrea pulled out of her self-induced stupor, embarrassed for not only getting caught looking but also for the blush that covered her face. She ignored the amused and quite satisfied look in Cameron’s eyes as she brushed past her. She could not, however, ignore the chuckle she heard.
“Get over yourself already,” she muttered, hearing the chuckle turn into an outright laugh.