Beyond Duty

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Beyond Duty Page 8

by Stanalei Fletcher


  Chip walked over to the closet, pulled out the luggage stand and set her bag on it. After unzipping the top, she dug through her clothes for a pair of dark, stretch pants, a gray cotton cami, and a black hoodie. As she laid them out on the couch, she felt the energy in the room shift from mildly antagonistic to charged electricity. The hairs on her arms stood. Years of martial arts training kicked in. She glanced cautiously over her shoulder. Did Riley feel the change in the room, too?

  He had stopped what he was doing and stared transfixed at her clothes.

  “What’s the matter?” She crossed her arms.

  “You’re not wearing that, are you?”

  Was he serious? Her clothing bothered him? “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

  He swallowed, and continued to stare.

  A light dawned. Stepping out of her comfort zone, she grinned wickedly, picked up the cami, and held it against her. “Surely you didn’t expect a long flannel nightgown?”

  Riley blinked, then spit out an expletive and abruptly bent over his suitcase to pull out his own clothes.

  Suddenly, she felt like she had the upper hand in this “newlywed game” they were playing. “I promise you’ll be perfectly safe. I’m not here to seduce you. To prove it, I’ll even change in the bathroom.” She zipped her bag closed and, scooping up her clothes, marched into the bathroom.

  ****

  Riley ran a hand through his hair after the bathroom door closed. The moment Chip had opened her bag, a tantalizing fragrance charged the cabin’s stale air. It wasn’t overpowering, but enough to mark her presence in a room with a single bed between them. His body grew taut with lust as her scent invaded his defenses.

  What was the matter with him? Just because his past wasn’t littered with women parading through his bedroom didn’t mean he lived a celibate life. Not ten minutes earlier, he’d easily ignored the unwanted advances of the receptionist. So why did he suddenly feel like an awkward teenager on his first date?

  One thing was for sure, he wasn’t tired anymore. He stared at the closed bathroom door, remembering Chip’s words. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t the image of the petite lieutenant in a slinky-looking top with spaghetti straps prancing through his mind.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. Time to move this assignment forward. The problem was, he had a strong suspicion that once the assignment was over, Chip would be in his head, like her alter ego Mary had been for the past year. He was beginning to think she had him under some sort of spell.

  At that moment, she opened the bathroom door and walked into the main room. The first thing he noticed was her hair was unpinned. The braid hung like a rope down her back. For a moment, he was disappointed her hair wasn’t loose about her face, although with it tied back, he enjoyed a full view of her bare shoulders under those spaghetti straps. Then her wedding ring caught the lamplight and winked mockingly at him. His wife for three days. Day one was almost over and it was shaping up to be another forty-eight hours in hell.

  Chip lifted her chin and met his appraisal, but didn’t hesitate as she crossed to the small couch and picked up her hoodie. “I’m ready.” She looked almost defensive.

  Ready? Ready for what? Involuntarily, Riley started toward her. He was ready for only one thing.

  “Are you going to take a turn in the bathroom before we leave?”

  Her stern tone stopped him. Right. The assignment. Once again, she’d distracted him. He did an about-face that would make any soldier proud and stomped into the bathroom, closing the door loudly behind him.

  ****

  Chip flinched as a picture frame shifted on the wall when Riley slammed the bathroom door. Either it didn’t take much to make the man irritable, or she was just unlucky enough to have pushed all the wrong buttons. They were supposed to behave like a married couple, but it seemed she aggravated him even more when she played the part of a loving wife. At least for tonight, they didn’t have to pretend anything. They were partners in an investigation. Their focus was to find the missing women. Soon.

  When Riley emerged, he’d changed his suit pants and his shirt was missing. Chip’s breath strangled in her lungs. Even though she was no stranger to bare chests, she couldn’t help staring. Riley was as ripped as any of the men in her martial arts classes or soldiers she’d worked with—those six-pack abs definitely weren’t painted on. No wonder he’d been able to knock her down during their scuffle at the gang house.

  He caught her staring and she looked away, but not before she saw a satisfied smirk on his face. Fine. He knew how to play the game, too. He was probably ten times better at it than she was. As much as she tried, she couldn’t stop from peeking when he crossed to his luggage. Digging through his suitcase, he retrieved a black T-shirt and pulled it over his head, ending the show. A minute later, he had on rubber-soled boots and was slipping into a black hoodie. He looked over his shoulder at her. “Come on. Let’s go check out the cabins.”

  ****

  They examined Lorraine’s cabin first. Chip bit the inside of her cheek in dismay at how easy it was to break in. The way Riley bypassed the electronic card lock, it wasn’t surprising that the abductions had gone unreported. She mentally questioned how secure their own cabin was.

  Lorraine’s cabin was laid out like the cabin she and Riley shared. Other than the luggage, it looked as though no one had stayed there. It was pristine—the work of an efficient housekeeping crew.

  Outside Fiona’s cabin, Riley once again pulled out a small flashlight and clicked it on. As he’d done with Lorraine’s door, he inspected the jamb and lock. No splinters, no divots. Not even a scratch on the handle. “No forced entry.” He looked at her with his eyebrows raised.

  Unlike Lorraine’s cabin, the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign was hanging outside Fiona’s door. The sign had prevented housekeeping from discovering the mess she and Riley happened upon when they stepped inside. Obviously, they were first on the scene.

  Chip hurried to the window and made sure the curtains were drawn closed before turning on her own flashlight. This cabin was larger. The flashlight’s beam bounced around a sitting room with a desk, full-size couch, and chair with end tables. To the left, and up a small step, was the kitchen area. To the right was the bedroom.

  Her flashlight beam landed on the bed. Pillows were in place, but someone sitting or lying on top of the bedding had clearly ruffled the blankets. In contrast to the neat bedroom, the desk chair was tipped over and halfway under the desk. Papers were scattered around the floor. Atop the desk, a laptop was open.

  “This appears to be where the abduction took place.” Chip felt confident in her assessment.

  “But with no forced entry, do you suppose one of the women knew the kidnapper?” Riley was making his own survey of the rooms.

  “It’s starting to look that way.” She gestured at the chair. “Although, by the mess in here, it looks as if they put up a struggle.”

  “Or it was made to give that impression.”

  “What are you saying?” She swung her light at Riley’s face. “That the kidnapping isn’t real? If that video wasn’t proof the women were abducted, then I don’t know what is.”

  “Get that light out of my face.”

  “Sorry.” Chip dropped the beam to his chest. Even in the low light, covered in a hoodie, Riley’s chest was impressive.

  “I’m not saying the kidnapping isn’t real. But did it happen in this room, or was it made to look like it had?”

  “Let’s see if we can find out.” She crossed to the desk and ran a finger over the computer’s touchpad. The screen came to life, asking for a login password.

  Riley peered over her shoulder. “Any ideas on the password?”

  Chip smiled to herself. “A couple.” She keyed in Andrew’s name and Fiona’s birthdate. No luck.

  “I can have Northstar crack it for us.” His breath whispered across her neck.

  “Not yet…” Chip renewed her concentration and typed in Andrew’s b
irthdate and Fiona’s middle name. The screen switched to a timed-out Internet connection. “Bingo.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be.” Chip waved a dismissing hand. “After we’ve rescued Fiona, I’m going to have a talk with her about computer security.”

  Riley leaned in closer. “What do you see?”

  “There should be browser history with date and time stamps.” She opened the browser and clicked to review the history. Several links were listed in date order. “The computer was last used yesterday, and there’s a time stamp for the entries.”

  “That’s a start.” He stepped back. “We can take the computer to our cabin and uplink a connection to Northstar’s lab. They’ll be able to download the hard drive and evaluate it.”

  “Good idea.” She closed the laptop to get it ready. As she did, her light reflected off something on the floor next to the desk. She bent down and found a cell phone. When she thumbed it on, a picture of Lorraine Voras and an older woman, probably her mother, displayed as the background. “Found Lorraine’s phone.” Chip held up the device. “I’d say this confirms she and Fiona were together in this room.”

  “Let me see it.” Riley took the phone. “There’s no passcode.” He started thumbing through apps. “I’ll have Northstar pull the call records. Maybe we can get a better idea when all this went down and start to build a timeline.”

  Chip was impressed Northstar would be able to do so much in a short amount of time. It was nice to have a well-equipped lab at their disposal. “Remember, there should be a call from Senator Burnsworth. He said he tried calling Lorraine after he couldn’t reach Fiona. She didn’t answer either.”

  “I remember.” Riley stuffed the phone in his pocket.

  Chip wandered into the bathroom. Cosmetics, toothbrush, all of Fiona’s personal care items were laid out and waiting. An ugly chill raced down Chip’s spine, knowing her friend had been here, enjoying a relaxing, safe week away from her hectic schedule—and now her life was at risk from some maniac on a crusade.

  She and Riley spent another forty-five minutes searching the cabin—checking out the kitchen, under the bed, through the desk, and inside all the bureau drawers.

  Riley even peered inside the toilet tank and down the drains. “I don’t think we’re going to find any more here. Come on. Let’s get back to our cabin. I want to look over these devices and see if they’ll give us any leads.”

  Chip was reluctant to leave the last place her friend had been, but conceded they had enough evidence to determine a course of action.

  Back at the cabin, Riley put in a call to Northstar and updated Byron on the results of their visit to Fiona’s and Lorraine’s rooms. He also asked for Lorraine’s call logs. “How soon can you have phone records?”

  Chip saw him frown at the response. She was sure retrieving call history wouldn’t be fast enough for her either.

  He listened a moment, then looked at the screen on his phone. “Just got it. We’ll go through it tonight.” Riley ended the conversation and hit the disconnect icon.

  “We’ll go through what?”

  He held up his phone. “Senator Burnsworth pulled together a list of people opposed to his program. The lab is cross-checking names with anyone who has been in New Mexico recently, but I thought we should take a look, too.”

  Chip nodded, glad for something to do other than wait for word back from Northstar’s lab on the devices. “Good idea.” She reached for Fiona’s laptop. “Is there a way to upload the hard drive to the lab while I look through files? Maybe there’ll be something on Fiona’s e-mail accounts that will give us a lead.”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll check. First, I’ll connect to Northstar’s Intranet and get the upload on Fiona’s laptop started so the lab will have everything on the secure transfer site. While I do that, can you see if there’s any coffee? We’re going to need the caffeine to keep going tonight.”

  “I’ll start a pot.”

  “Thanks.” Riley gave her a lopsided smile that jolted her heart more than the expected caffeine. This growing camaraderie was even more disconcerting than any of those pretend touches.

  Chip hurried to the kitchenette, grateful to have him out of sight while she got her hormones under control. She prepared the coffee while Riley established a virtual private network connection and started the upload.

  After the coffee was made, and she passed a cup to Riley, Chip spent the next couple of hours poking through Lorraine’s phone. The usual apps were present. Nothing raised any flags on the calendar. Even the photos were mostly selfies and plates of food.

  When Fiona’s computer completed the upload to Northstar, Chip set aside Lorraine’s phone and started going through Fiona’s e-mails. None of the messages or documents looked unusual. All Chip was able to confirm was something she already knew. Fiona worked hard. Most of the e-mails consisted of communications regarding projects Fiona worked on with the senator and the Runaway Home program. The few messages that weren’t work-related came from Fiona’s favorite shoe store and a boutique offering a late fall sale.

  Chip glanced up when Riley sat back in his chair. She probably looked as exhausted as he did.

  “We’re spinning our wheels.” He wiped a hand across his face. “I hope the lab is having better luck with the hard drive and phone logs.” He pulled out a tablet. “I’ve downloaded Senator Burnsworth’s list of names onto my tablet. Are you feeling up to going over it?”

  Chip wanted nothing more than to crawl over to the recliner and curl up for a long nap. But until they had something to work with, she wasn’t giving in. “Bring it on.”

  Riley slid his chair around the table to sit next to her, which in Chip’s exhausted state, made her more than a little uncomfortable—and hypersensitive to the subtle scent of his aftershave. She didn’t want to respond to the man, but the hint of spicy musk brought back the memory of when he’d tackled her to the floor at the gang house.

  She’d been hyper-aware of him then, too. Honesty forced her to admit that her visceral reaction was what led her to trust Riley that fateful night. She’d learned to rely on those instincts, and to date, they hadn’t failed her. That didn’t negate the fact that he was a distraction. She brought her focus back to the list of names. Just in time, too. One name seemed to jump off the screen at her.

  “Stop.” She pointed. “There.”

  Riley scrolled up until the name she pointed to was in the center of the screen. “Which one?”

  “Lamar Pomeroy.”

  “The senator from California?”

  She nodded, staring at the name and feeling a tiny piece of the puzzle fall into place.

  “What about him?” He raised a brow in curiosity.

  Instead of answering, Chip reached across the table and grabbed Lorraine’s phone. “Look.” She opened the photo app and swiped through the album she’d been studying earlier. When she found the picture she was looking for, she displayed it for Riley.

  The picture was of Lorraine in a cocktail dress cozied up to a dashing hunk at some gathering. From the posters in the background it appeared to be a hip-hop concert.

  “That’s Lorraine, right?” Riley pointed.

  “Yes.”

  “Who’s the guy?”

  “Dean Weston.” Chip was unable to keep a hint of triumph out of her voice.

  “So?” Riley shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t see why that’s significant.”

  “Dean Weston is an aide to Senator Pomeroy.”

  Chapter Seven

  A light of understanding went off inside Riley’s mind and he took the phone out of Chip’s hand to study the photograph of Lorraine Voras and Dean Weston, Senator Pomeroy’s aide. Finally, a clue worth pursuing and it hadn’t taken them but a few hours after arriving at the resort to find it. The petite lieutenant was earning her keep after all.

  In the picture, the couple looked very chummy. Lorraine’s adoring gaze suggested she was more than a little in love with Mr. Weston
.

  “This is a good find, right?” Chip looked at him. “Because of Weston’s association with Senator Pomeroy, we can connect one of Burnsworth’s dissenters and a kidnapped victim.”

  “Or it might be a coincidence. Lorraine and Weston could have hooked up through D.C.’s social circle. The fact that Weston’s boss doesn’t like Burnsworth’s program may be incidental.” He handed the device back to Chip.

  “Maybe.” She conceded, taking another look at the photo. “But I think we should still check on it.”

  “I agree. We don’t want to leave any stone unturned. And in this business, we never ignore coincidences.” Riley pulled out his phone. “I’ll get this information to the firm. By tomorrow morning we should have more details to work with.”

  Chip pointed to the time on his tablet, which showed almost six a.m. Eastern time. “It is tomorrow morning.” As if punctuating her point, she rubbed her eyes. “Excuse me. I was up for PT at five yesterday morning. It’s been a long day.”

  Her tired movements triggered an exhaustion that had been creeping up on Riley since they’d returned to the cabin. “We need a few hours’ sleep,” he agreed. “It won’t help those women if we’re too crapped-out to think clearly.”

  Chip nodded, covering a yawn. “Go ahead and make the call. I’ll get ready for bed.”

  At her words, Riley looked up sharply, but she was walking toward her bag beside the couch. Good thing she was oblivious of how her comment sounded and couldn’t see his reaction. Their cover story wasn’t required in private moments like these, and he mentally repeated his mantra. Chip was his partner. Partners are off-limits.

  After the bathroom door closed behind her, Riley dragged his mind back on task and dialed Northstar. Allison answered on the first ring. “Don’t you ever sleep?” His voice sounded gravelly, even to him.

 

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