“So how does this help us?” Whitney asked.
Sam frowned. “Maybe just that he sounds like someone who might do business with McCray. He didn’t deserve to die, and I’m sorry he did, but any guy who sells illegal weapons is a real lowlife in my book.”
“Mine, too. Especially in the military,” Alex said, and didn’t care if he ever offended anyone with his position. “I never understood how there could be a black market for weapons that wind up in the hands of the very people who are trying to end someone’s life.”
Whitney shook her head. “I’ve led such a sheltered life compared to you two.”
Alex wanted to say she’d lost her innocence in the worst possible way with Percy, but he didn’t want to bring up her sister’s death. So he went back to his research and kept digging. He finally pulled up a picture of a major weapons bust.
He enlarged it and squinted to make out the background.
“Yes!” He pumped his hand up and swiveled his computer. “Look at who we have here.”
Whitney bent close to the computer. “That’s Vose being hauled off in cuffs.”
Sam leaned over Whitney’s shoulder. “And McCray in the background.”
“This is the proof of a connection I need to confront McCray.” Alex turned the computer back and sent the picture to his phone.
He stood and looked at Sam. “I’m assuming you want in on this conversation.”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll keep listening to interviews.” Whitney looked up at him, and he didn’t like the worry he saw in her expression. Worry put there by Percy. Worry that might always be triggered when a loved one was in a dangerous situation.
Not that he was a loved one, but with each minute that passed, he could easily imagine it more and more.
She grabbed his hand. “Please be careful. Even if he’s not the killer, he’s still a dangerous man.”
Alex waited for her to let go of his hand and swing her concerned gaze to Sam, but she kept her focus on him.
He switched his thoughts to the meeting with McCray but decided to try for a lighter tone. “Hey, I’ve got Deputy Sam with me. She’s got my back.”
“Maybe you should bring Officer Everett with you, too,” Whitney suggested and let go of his hand.
Sam shook her head. “That would be overkill and would put McCray even more on the defensive.”
A hint of a plan niggled Alex’s brain and he let it blossom. “That gives me an idea. Maybe we can use Everett to trap McCray.”
Sam cocked her head. “I’m listening.”
“We think he ditched the burner phone, right? But what if he wasn’t as careful as he should have been and tossed it into one of the public trash cans like Whitney suggested? Or hid it to be able to retrieve later?”
Sam gave a clipped nod. “I think that’s possible.”
“So say we interview him, and when we leave, we make sure the door stays open a crack. We have a conversation in in the hallway about Everett searching the trash. McCray thinks we’re stupid for not closing the door and he eavesdrops on us.”
“Oh, I get it,” Whitney said, a smile forming. “You think he’ll go get the phone before Everett can find it.”
“Exactly. And we can have Officer Umbel or Yablonsky tail him because McCray will be looking for us or Everett, but not the other two.”
“And then if he does grab it,” Sam jumped in. “We’ll have the proof that Vose had called McCray.”
Alex nodded.
“I say we go for it.” Sam pointed at the door. “Everett’s still in the hall waiting for us to leave. I’ll arrange things with him.”
She hurried across the room, and once again Alex was struck by her capabilities and willingness to adapt at a moment’s notice. She’d proved to be a valuable asset to the team, and Alex fully planned to give Gage a glowing report on her.
While waiting for Sam to return, Alex sat back down and returned his attention to his computer to keep busy and not stare at Whitney like some love-struck fool.
Man, how did he let himself fall for a woman after all these years of avoiding it?
Everything just seemed so natural with Whitney. Yeah, well so did loving his mother. Natural until it wasn’t, and he was looking at her laying in a coffin, his heart ripped open. He shook his head to knock the thoughts away.
“Everything okay?” Whitney asked.
“Fine.”
She tapped his laptop. “You didn’t find something there that you’re not sharing, did you?”
“No. I’ve told you everything I know about this.” Not about you. And me. Me and you.
He read the next story, keeping an ear out for Sam to swipe her key in the door lock. When he heard the click, he stood.
Sam poked her head in. “We’re a go. Umbel is already on his way to stake out the hallway so he’s ready for us, and Yablonsky will take the lobby.”
Alex took one last look at McCray’s growling picture on his laptop and closed it. “We’ll be back in a flash.”
“Right. Okay.” Whitney’s head bobbed, and it kept bobbing as if she didn’t realize it. “Be careful, then. And yeah, come right back so I know you’re fine.”
At her worried frown, Alex patted her shoulder, earning a raised eyebrow from Sam, but he didn’t care. He squeezed and smiled at Whitney. She beamed up at him. His heart stuttered at the power a simple smile had over him.
“Be back soon,” he managed to get out and spun to leave.
He kept up a quick pace, moving ahead of Sam so she couldn’t ask about his obvious display of affection for Whitney. At McCray’s door, he relegated thoughts of Whitney to the back of his brain and pounded hard.
A few minutes passed before McCray answered, a frown drawing down his long face. He scratched the whiskers on his chin and eyed Alex. “What do you want?”
“To ask a few questions,” Alex said, ignoring the attitude. “Can we come in?”
McCray widened his stance and straightened his shirt. “No.”
“You want to air your dirty laundry in the hallway then?” Alex challenged, as it would be easier to ask the questions inside and quickly move into serving the warrant afterwards.
McCray smirked. “Don’t have any dirty laundry.”
“Okay, suit yourself. Give me just a sec.” Alex got out his phone and dialed the number from the texts Vose had received in the off chance that McCray had kept the phone and it was somewhere nearby. It rang in Alex’s ear, but not in the room or on McCray.
So fine. He got rid of it.
Alex eyed him again. “I wanted to talk to you about a buddy of yours who came to visit you here.”
“I told you. I’m alone.” He relaxed back against the wall crossing his feet at the ankle as if this visit was of no consequence to him.
“Yeah, see, I get that, but what would you say if I have a phone with texts saying this person had arrived at the resort and you asked him to bring the widgets to your room.”
A muscle jumped in the man’s jaw, but his face remained unchanged. He was good at this cat-and-mouse game, Alex had to give him that.
“I didn’t have any text communications like that. I can show you my phone if you like.”
“First,” Sam said. “You could have deleted the text. Second, you didn’t use your phone. You used a burner, and you know it.”
“Burner?” he asked a slight smirk on his lips. “I’m not sure what that is.”
“Right,” Sam nearly growled at him. “It’s a prepaid untraceable phone.”
“Why would I need that when I have my own phone? I have nothing to hide.” The smirk blossomed into a full-blown sneer.
“How about the widgets?” Alex asked. “I’m sure you don’t want us finding those.”
“I’m not really sure what you’re referring to.”
“Then how about the name Damien Vose. That ring a bell for you?” He watched McCray, that muscle twinging again, but no other response.
“We have pictures of
the two of you taken in an undercover sting that you wiggled out of.” Alex tried hard to keep the frustration from his tone so McCray didn’t know he was getting upset, but he failed.
The creep just stood there.
Alex changed his focus to Sam and gave her a pointed look.
“In that case,” she said and pulled the warrant from a cargo pocket in her pants. “We have a warrant to search you and your room.”
“Now come on.” He pushed off the wall. “You have no probable cause for that.”
“Look at the man who suddenly understands the law.” Alex jeered. “Hands against the wall for that search.”
He glared at Alex and turned, his eyes never leaving him until he faced the wall. It was then that Alex saw the depth of evil in this man’s eyes. Alex could almost see the thoughts of revenge and payback trailing across McCray’s mind like an old-fashioned ticker tape. Alex didn’t doubt for one second that the man would be capable of killing Vose—killing him and taking great pleasure in doing so if Vose crossed him.
Alex put on a pair of booties over his shoes and snapped on latex gloves then patted McCray down. He was aware of Sam putting on her protective clothing and gloves but kept his attention on McCray. Alex was looking solely for a weapon and phone at this stage, but he never knew what he might find.
His hand passed over what felt like a Leatherman in McCray’s front pocket. “I’ll take the Leatherman nice and slow.”
McCray removed the multi-purpose tool and slapped it into Alex’s open palm. Carrying a knife like this wasn’t odd for some people, but not a lot of businessmen—like McCray claimed to be—would carry one. A skier and outdoor enthusiast might, however.
Alex finished his search. “Step inside and empty your pockets on the dresser.”
He strolled into the room so slowly a slug would have won a race with him, and Alex was tempted to give him a shove, but no point in poking the bear.
Sam bent down to grab her equipment bag and followed Alex into the room. The judge signed off on getting a DNA sample from McCray to compare to any touch DNA Sam could lift from Vose’s hand in the event that the pair shook hands. And she was authorized to look for other forensic samples that might link them, such as dirt matching small clods tightly embedded in Vose’s shoe treads.
McCray complied without further prodding, dumping out his pockets on the long dresser. Out came a key ring filled with keys, a room keycard, loose change, a money clip thick with bills, and breath mints. So the guy was conscious about his breath. Odd for a criminal if you asked Alex. Maybe it was to hide his alcohol habit.
“Where do you want him?” Alex asked Sam.
“At the table.”
Alex pointed at the small table sitting between two chairs by the window. “You heard her.”
McCray did the slimy slug crawl to the table while Sam dug out the DNA swab.
McCray watched her every move. “What’s that?”
“We have authorization to take a DNA sample.”
“What?” He shot to his feet. “Why?”
“In case you shook hands with Vose.”
Some of the color drained from his face, giving Alex a strong feeling that they were on the right track.
McCray glared up at Sam, but finally opened his mouth, and Sam swabbed the inside. He made a production of swallowing and gagging, but she ignored him to store the swab in its tube.
“Tell me when you’re done with forensics so I can start searching,” Alex said to Sam and rested against the dresser.
She nodded and went back to her equipment bag to remove special lights. Alex glanced around the room as he waited, and now wished he hadn’t removed the gun from the drawer so they could’ve taken it into evidence. Not that the caliber matched the murder weapon, but it might become significant as the investigation advanced.
On the flip side, if McCray was the killer, he might have used the gun in the meantime to kill someone else and that trumped taking it into evidence.
Sam moved around the floor, setting down evidence markers then snapping pictures before picking up minuscule things with tweezers, bagging, and labeling it. She continued for about an hour then stood. “Okay. You can search.”
Alex started with the same dresser that he’d looked through before. McCray relaxed back in his chair, his arms clasped behind his head. His sudden relaxed posture said they weren’t going to find anything beyond what Sam had lifted. Still, Alex did a thorough search, then he and Sam headed out the door.
“Hey, thanks for the laugh,” McCray called after them. “It was like watching Inspector Clouseau bumble his way through an investigation.”
Alex stifled the growl of frustration and anger that wanted to escape and exited the room. He used his foot to stop the door from closing and faced Sam.
“What time did you say the PPB officers were going to search public trash cans for that burner phone?” he asked loud enough for McCray to hear.
“As soon as we get back to the room.”
“Then let’s go. I really want to find McCray’s burner.” He slowly released the door and glanced down the hallway to where Umbel remained in position.
Alex nodded at him. Umbel eased back into the shadows where he would wait for McCray to take the bait and go retrieve the burner phone.
21
Alex stormed into the suite, irritated and exasperated. McCray didn’t fall for their plan. Alex wasn’t surprised. Not really. The guy didn’t become a successful gun runner because he was sloppy and impetuous. But Alex had to try it.
Now they were left with what as a lead? Nothing. Not really.
He dropped on the couch, feeling like having a big pity party. That was so not him. He didn’t give into his emotions. Ever. Correction—hadn’t given into them until a certain someone named Whitney showed up in his life. Now it was all he could do to keep them in check.
Why? Why her? Why now and here?
The bedroom door opened and sweet little Zoey came running out. Whitney was directly behind her, and Isaiah in the rear. Whitney cast Alex a questioning look, and he had to assume she was asking if McCray went for the phone or otherwise told them anything. He gave a quick shake of his head.
She frowned, and he wanted to do anything he could to erase that frown and put a smile on her face. She deserved happiness. Not all this sadness and negativity.
What about that, too, God? I understand having mountains in my life. I deserve them. But not Whitney. She’s a caregiver. A nurturer. She deserves all the best.
Including the best guy, which was so not him.
Zoey rushed up to him and climbed up on his lap with her rosy face, curls wet from a bath, and soft fuzzy pajamas. She cupped her blanket against her cheek and plugged her thumb into her mouth. Her eyes sleepy, her long lashes blinking hard to stay awake, she sighed and rested her face against his chest as if this was the most natural thing for her to do.
It felt natural. Trusting. Caring. Loving. It was all natural. Every bit of it. What God created man for. Alex knew that love once. His mother. His father to some extent, but totally his mother. Until she taught him the most difficult lesson he’d ever faced in life. The things with the most power to impact you also held the most power to hurt you. And were the most challenging to get over.
People could never understand or explain suicide. Never. Not on their own anyway. But you could learn to live with the loss. He just hadn’t really examined his feelings. Dealt with them. It had been far easier to avoid.
But now? Now, he wanted to circle his arms around the warm little body trusting him with her affections. Around the woman who captivated his heart. Around the boy who was hurting with such powerful emotions. Protect them from everything bad in this fallen world. And to do that, to be the kind of man who could put others before his needs in the most profound way, he had to show up emotionally and be present. Not be the shell of the person he’d been since his mother died, but the man who could love with abandon. The man God wanted him to be.
&
nbsp; The question was, did he want this badly enough to do the work to make it a reality?
The storm would break tomorrow. That was the broadcast on their weather radio, meaning it would be Whitney’s last night with Alex because she was going to ask Gage to assign someone else to her protection until Percy could be caught. The thought took a bite from her heart, leaving an ache behind, precisely the reason she needed to get away from Alex.
She picked up her brush and tugged it through her hair. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
She was about to step out into the other room, and she didn’t know what to expect other than heartbreak. She’d brought it on herself. Despite her warnings, despite Percy’s betrayal setting a fresh and still-raw example of why not to fall in love, she’d fallen for a guy who she didn’t know enough about to really trust with her heart.
Sure, Alex had proved his tenacity. His compassion. His goodness. His kindness. But he also proved he was skittish when it came to a relationship. His mother’s death still affected him.
What if they got involved? Got married? Parented Zoey and Isaiah together? She could totally imagine it—imagine the joy of sharing that responsibility and of being together. But he wasn’t over losing his mother and could one day freak out over the commitment of love and bail on them. He wouldn’t want to do it. He was honorable, but he could do it.
But even understanding the risk, just like that, she gave her heart away to him.
She eyed herself with disdain. “So what are you going to do, girl? You might as well admit falling for him. Not that you’ll follow through on it. Thankfully, you still have the common sense not to do that.”
She tossed the brush on the counter and marched into the adjoining space, ready to thank Alex for his help and tell him that she was going to talk to Gage about a change.
“You’re sure.” His excited voice met her at the door as he talked on his phone. “One hundred percent sure.”
He listened, his expression astonished.
“I need proof, Eryn,” he said, sounding demanding, and yet, thrilled at the same time. “Then get me a picture of him sitting in his cell.”
Cold Pursuit Page 19