by Aimée Thurlo
“That’s a full reversal of Chief Wright’s original orders, which explains his attitude.” Travis shook his head and narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “Something tells me there’s more to that story. What aren’t you telling me?”
“Later,” she said, heading down the hall to the interrogation room.
Travis gave Crusher the command to stay, then went into the room with Laura.
Ray looked surlier than ever as he eyed both of them. “I get it now. You’re both cops.”
“No. I’m a consultant working with the department. But I’ve got to tell you, Roy, you’re in one heap of trouble,” Laura said, taking a seat across the table from him.
“For what? Taking a swing at someone trying to push me around or for running away from a vicious dog?” he grumbled.
“Don’t lie to someone who knows the truth already. You’re not stupid. Talk to me,” Laura pressed.
Silence stretched out, but neither Travis nor Laura said a word.
“Okay, okay,” Roy said at last. “What can I tell you that’ll keep me out of jail?”
“Neither one of us is interested in sending you to jail. We just want to find out what happened to some bags of fertilizer,” Travis said.
“Let me get this straight,” Roy said slowly, looking at Travis then back at Laura. “You don’t care what happened to the stuff in the storeroom. You just want to know who ripped off a few sacks of cow crap?”
“Not the manure, the stuff in the big plastic sacks,” Laura said. “The white crystals—ammonium nitrate.”
“Oh. Yeah, well, I cut some bags open with a box cutter and dumped them on the floor. It sure smelled like you-know-what. But I didn’t take any of that stuff, if that’s what you’re suggesting. I ain’t no thief.”
Travis leaned over the table, getting into his face. “You better be telling us the truth.”
“I am, man,” he said without hesitation. “Sure, I trashed his place a little. He was the one who fired me and I really needed the job.” He stopped, then gave them a sheepish smile. “Guess I’m really screwed now, huh?”
After several more minutes, confident that Roy wasn’t withholding information, they concluded their questioning.
Travis followed her back out into the hall. “Nice work back there,” he said.
“That really cost you, didn’t it?” she teased.
“You’ll never know.”
AFTER COMPLETING A REPORT on the incident, they returned to Travis’s four-wheel SUV. Crusher took his usual spot in the rear.
“Okay. Now I want answers from you,” Travis said. “What’s the deal with you and the mayor?”
“My mother met him years ago when he worked as a loan officer at the First State Finance Company. They dated for a long time.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I remember now. You never liked him much.”
Laura shrugged. “Mom always thought it would work out between them and he’d marry her. She never realized until it was too late that Marty had no intention of settling down with her. She wasted years waiting for him to propose.”
“It must have hit her hard when she finally realized he’d been stringing her along.”
“It broke her heart,” she said with a nod. “She was never the same after Marty left her and married Mrs. Huntsfield, the widow of the guy who owned Huntsfield Petroleum,” Laura said. “Marty needed money and the right contacts to get into politics, and all Mom had to offer was herself.”
Travis didn’t answer. There was nothing he could say.
“Seeing me out in the hall gave Marty a jolt. I’m not sure if I brought back memories he valued or ones he was trying to run from, but he came right over to find out what I was doing back in town.”
“And out of the blue, he just decided to make you an official police consultant?” he asked, skepticism showing clearly in his tone.
“Not exactly. I brought it up after I gave him a rundown of why I was here. But it wasn’t a hard sell. He never even hesitated. He went to talk to Chief Wright right away.” She paused. “Maybe Marty wanted me in his debt. Even a casual comment here and there can do a small-town politician some serious harm. Or maybe he thought I’d be tempted to talk to his wife about his long affair with that trailer-trash woman who worked in the high-school cafeteria. That’s what they used to call her—and me. Remember?”
Travis nodded. “But nobody at school ever talked like that. It was mostly the adults outside the Rez.”
“It still stung.”
“I know,” he answered, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.
His touch soothed the ache inside her, but what really drew her to him was what she saw in his eyes. Travis was all about self-control, but behind that dark, compelling gaze she could see the shimmer of passion—for his job, for those he loved and for what he knew was right.
Travis switched on the ignition. “It’s been a long day. Let me drop you off, and we’ll get an early start tomorrow. Where are you staying?”
“The Desert Sands Motel. It’s not exactly four stars but it’s cheap and I’m footing my own bill,” she said. “I’ll be getting a small stipend as a department consultant now but I’m still working on a tight budget.”
“I know the place you’re talking about,” Travis said. “It’s as basic as it comes, but the rooms are clean and you won’t be mugged the moment you step outside.”
“It seemed okay to me when I got in last night. I like the fact that the doors have a double locking mechanism, so no one’s going to be able to sneak in,” Laura said. “Now that the perp knows I’m in town, I’m going to be sleeping with one eye open and my weapon under the pillow, too.”
They soon arrived at the Sands. Travis pulled up in front of the side entry to the lobby.
“Why don’t you park in one of the guest slots and come inside for a minute?” she said.
He hesitated. Laura was a constant distraction to him and going to her room didn’t seem like a wise idea, all things considered.
“I know it’s difficult to share a case with someone who just pops in on the scene. So let me buy you dinner, and maybe that’ll ease the pain a bit. We’ll even get a doggie bag. What do you say?”
Crusher snorted as if he’d understood.
“You’ve been outvoted,” Laura said, chuckling. “Come in and let me grab a jacket, then we’ll go. We both need some downtime, and it’s always good to know your partner.”
“You’re not my partner,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Maybe that’s not my official title, but I’m the person you’re working with now. I’m not just some ride-along anymore,” she said as he parked in a guest slot.
His voice was almost a complete monotone as he answered. “You might be able to help, but if you start interfering with my case, you’ll find yourself standing on the sidewalk alone—mayor or no mayor. And let me remind you that there are very few cabs out here and no regular city buses. So, depending on where we are, the walk can be a real long one.”
She took a deep breath and with effort forced herself to stay calm. “We’re on the same side, relax.”
Travis put Crusher on the lead and, with the dog at heel, followed Laura down the hallway.
When they reached her room Laura slipped the key card out of her pocket then suddenly froze.
Travis looked down at Crusher but the dog didn’t seem alarmed. “What’s up?” he asked Laura, his gaze searching the long, narrow hall.
She stepped back, her attention focused on the gap beneath the door.
Crusher, sensing their abrupt change of mood, growled softly.
“Somebody shoved a note beneath my door,” she said, gesturing to it but not touching anything. “There’s a photo image printed on it, too. It’s a shot of my rental car.”
“Are you sure it’s not just a note from management?”
“That’s the rental car. I recognize the tag number.”
“Then don’t open the door,” he said, visually
searching along the jamb for a triggering device.
“I doubt he’s rigged this door. He doesn’t want me dead. If I blow up—along with his note—he’ll lose all the fun of trying to intimidate me.” She met Travis’s gaze and held it.
“What he doesn’t realize is that I don’t scare easily. The only thing he’s going to do is tick me off,” she said loudly, hoping the suspect was still around and would hear.
“He’s not around,” Travis said, guessing what she was doing. “No one is, or Crusher would have warned us.” He crouched to study the doorknob and lock. “This hasn’t been tampered with. If it had been, there would be telltale signs. Give me your key card and then step back,” he whispered.
“You’re hoping he’s in there so you can face him square on,” she said.
“If he is, my training’s more diverse than yours and I’m stronger. That makes me the best choice to confront an opponent.”
Travis signaled Crusher and the dog stood in front of Laura, blocking her path.
“He’s not in there,” she said, handing him the key card.
“It’s not his M.O. This place is too public.”
Travis didn’t look back at her. Bracing himself, he unlocked the door, then kicked it open hard, hoping the suspect was behind it. As he stormed in, all was quiet except for the faint hum of the air-conditioning system.
When he turned around, he saw Laura picking the note up from the floor with a gloved hand. “You always carry latex gloves with you?” he asked.
“When I’m working a case, you bet,” she answered, then placed the sheet on the desk.
Printed on the upper half of the paper were two photos of her rental car taken before and after the explosion. “This didn’t come from a high-end camera,” Laura said, studying it.
“I’d guess he used a cell-phone camera, then printed it out later.”
A typed message beneath the photo read, “I told you we’d see each other again, Laura. Welcome home.”
“This sicko likes mind games,” she said in a taut voice, then shuddered.
As Travis placed a comforting arm over her shoulders, the warmth of his touch opened a yawning ache inside her. Living alone and depending on no one besides herself had taught her to be strong. She would never allow herself to need anyone. Yet that cold, hollow feeling that surrounded her heart was ample proof that love exacted an even greater price from those who chose to hide from it.
Realizing the direction her thoughts had taken, she put a sudden stop to it. Her feelings for Travis—those that went beyond a very normal sexual attraction—were just echoes from the past.
“You okay?” he asked.
She heard the dark edginess in his voice and looked up to meet his gaze. “Sure, I’m fine.”
He stepped back away from her. “We’ll turn that note over to the lab techs and see what they can get from it.”
“There won’t be any prints. Our man’s not careless. Even the paper and the toner will have come from ordinary sources.”
“We do know one thing. You were right. We’re dealing with the same person who killed your friend.”
Awareness and something else—protectiveness, maybe—were mirrored in the dark eyes that held hers.
“But this time he’s picked the wrong target,” Travis growled. “One way or another, he’s going down.”
Chapter Six
Together, they went through every inch of her motel room, checking for anything that might seem odd or out of place.
As Laura turned around to give him the all clear on the section she’d searched, she saw him bend over and pick up a pen that had rolled off the nightstand. The word mouthwatering had been coined just for him. He was broad in all the right places and narrow where it counted.
Travis wasn’t classically perfect but somehow that only added to his appeal. As he stood and moved past her, she saw ruggedness etched into his features and picked up that outdoorsy scent that always clung to him.
“Stay on target,” he said without turning to look at her.
Even the deep timbre of his voice echoed with the strength of the Navajo’s four sacred mountains. “What did you say?” she managed after a beat.
“You’re getting distracted.”
“Me? No way. I know what I’m looking at,” she answered, biting back a smile.
He chuckled softly, a rich masculine sound created to tease the imagination of any woman with a beating heart.
“He obviously didn’t come into the room,” Laura said after they finished their search.
“Agreed,” Travis said. “I don’t have a court order but let’s see if I can talk management into letting me take a look at the surveillance cameras. If we’re lucky, Frank Tso will be the one out there tonight. He won’t hesitate to help me if I ask.”
“Let’s go then.”
As they approached the main desk they saw a young Anglo woman behind the counter. “Is Frank around?” Travis asked, not waving his ID as Laura had expected.
“Hey, Specter,” a man greeted him, stepping into view from a small office behind the clerk. “You still owe me a steak dinner, dude. I hear promises but never get any action.”
Travis grinned. “I’ve been working double shifts lately, but it’ll happen.”
The Navajo man waved at them to come in. As Crusher went past, he petted the dog on the head.
Once they’d taken seats, Frank listened to what Travis had to say. “Someone like that is hanging around my motel?” He shook his head. “That’s gonna stop. I’ll work with you and give you whatever you need, bro, but I need something from you, too.”
“Name it,” Travis said.
“Would you do things low-key—no emergency lights or sirens? All that attention might cost me business.”
“I’ll make sure we keep a low profile if I need to call in a team. But I need the video from your cameras.”
“Not a problem. Follow me. That equipment runs itself from another room.”
He led them down a utility hall, then unlocked the door to a small room containing several monitors. “I can run the feedback without shutting anything down—just like those digital recorders on your cable TV.”
“Start with whatever camera covers the hall that leads to room 344,” Travis said. “After what time?” he asked, looking at Laura.
“After 5:00 a.m. this morning.” she responded.
Moments later they were watching the feed, Crusher lying down by the door. Though it appeared he was just relaxing, Laura saw that the dog’s ears were up and his eyes were wide-open.
As they watched the images, they saw motel guests passing by and then a person from room service. No one lingered by Laura’s door.
They went through several hours of feed in just a matter of minutes. Then, recorded less than an hour prior to their arrival at the motel, they saw a man wearing a bulky jacket and a baseball cap walking down the hall. He stopped by her door, bent down for a second, then continued on, keeping his head low. His face had been blocked out by the bill of his cap and it was impossible to make out his features.
“We can gauge his height from the doorjambs he passes but that’s about it. No weight or distinguishing features other than what he was wearing,” Travis said, curling his hands into fists, relaxing them, then tightening them into fists again. “I was hoping for more.”
“It’s in line with what I expected,” Laura said. “He likes to play but he’s not careless.”
“He also hasn’t killed anyone in Three Rivers yet and I want to keep it that way,” Travis said. He looked at Frank.
“Check the feed from the camera outside in the parking area—west side.”
Frank played it for them, starting just before the time registered on the feed showing the suspect walking down the hall.
Laura spotted the outline of a figure toward the rear of the parking lot. “Look at the far right corner. He’s there in the shadows, watching, trying to figure out camera angles and waiting for those people in the van t
o leave.”
They kept an eye on the figure. After several minutes, they saw him hurry across the parking area to the side door.
“Where was his car?” Travis said, thinking out loud.
“It’s got to be there somewhere,” Frank said.
“Not necessarily. We didn’t see him arrive, so he may have parked elsewhere and come in on foot,” Travis said.
They checked the video from the east parking lot. All they saw was the man’s back as he walked away from the camera.
“He came from across the street, out of camera range,” Laura said. “He’s playing with us but he also wants to make sure he’s not caught. It’s his way of showing us how superior he is.”
“There’s a possibility that an outside camera positioned by one of the retailers across the street caught something,” Travis said.
“You can ask for their cooperation or get a court order tomorrow,” Laura said. “But there’s something we need to do first.”
“What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“Our man likes feeling that he’s in charge, and that means he’ll be keeping an eye on us. I say we go take a look outside. We can talk to whoever we see, but be aware that our suspect would get a kick out of volunteering his help.”
“He came here looking for you and now he’s hanging around my motel?” Frank asked, his voice rising.
“Don’t worry. I’ll move my stuff out of here tonight,” she assured him gently.
Travis’s admiration for Laura grew as he saw Frank’s reaction change from anger to acceptance in a matter of seconds. Laura had a way about her that anyone in law enforcement would envy—the ability to intimidate or be conciliatory, depending on what was needed. Although he’d never had any problem with the intimidation part, he was hopeless at appeasing anyone whose desires didn’t align with his own.
It was dark as Laura and Travis walked back outside through the rear door, Crusher beside Travis. They remained near the vehicles, working along the perimeter of the parking lot. After a while they split up, each working opposite ends of the lot toward an agreed-upon meeting place on the west side, beside a large white van.