At Close Range

by Laura Griffin

  “You’re looking for a Glock nine-mil,” Scott said. “That’s as much as we know right now. We might know more when we finish the tests.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “Depends.”

  “Ballpark it.”

  Scott lifted an eyebrow at her. That bossy tone of hers turned him on, but damned if he’d ever tell her that. “One to three days.” He had some more tricks up his sleeve, but he didn’t want to get her hopes up until he had a chance to revisit the crime scene.

  She looked at Travis, as if he might have better news.

  “Sorry, Dani, we’re working as fast as we can.” Travis checked his watch and pushed his plate away. “I gotta run. I’ve got a deposition at three.” He stood and nodded at Scott. “See you tomorrow, bro.”

  Dani watched him leave, then her gaze settled back on Scott.

  “You look tired,” he said.

  “Thanks.” She grabbed a potato chip off his plate. “You don’t look tired at all.”

  He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his chin. He needed a shave and a shower and at least five hours of uninterrupted sleep.

  “What else?”

  She grabbed another chip. “What else what?”

  “What else is wrong?”

  She watched him a moment, and he waited for her to say something evasive. Dani wasn’t normally one to dump her problems out on the table. But something in her expression today told him she wanted to talk.

  “Reynolds wants me to be the lead.”

  “What about Ric?”

  “His wife’s about to have a baby. This case is going to get complicated.”

  “It’s complicated already. What about Sean?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  He didn’t say anything, just watched her. Scott knew she could handle it, even if she didn’t. But he wouldn’t have expected her boss to make her the lead on such a high-profile case less than a year after her promotion. They lived in a college town, so anything involving the university was front-page news. The story of a local professor getting offed while he was busy getting off was sure to keep the rumor mill buzzing for years.

  Dani crossed her arms, and Scott tried not to get distracted by her breasts.

  “So, what are you going to do?” he asked.

  “My job. What choice do I have?”

  “You could tell him to pick someone else, that you’re not up for it.”

  She just looked at him. He knew damn well she’d never do that, and so did she. Dani was competitive, not to mention tenacious as hell when she wanted something. And right now she wanted to prove herself.

  “Thought I’d find you here.”

  Scott turned around, and Drew Harper clamped a hand on his shoulder. Dani greeted her brother with a lackluster smile as he dragged a chair back and sat down.

  “I heard about your new case.” He looked from Scott to Dani. “You working it, too?”

  “She’s the lead,” Scott said.

  Drew’s brows arched. “You?”

  “Yes, me.” She sounded insulted.

  “Yeah? Well, congrats, Danno. It’s a big case. The DA’s all over it.”

  “Already?”

  “You bet your ass. It’s an election year.”

  She shook her head and looked away.

  “What?”

  “You guys are vultures.”

  By “you guys” she meant lawyers, and Scott didn’t disagree. But at least Drew worked for the prosecution. He’d been with the DA’s office since graduating top of his class at UT law.

  Drew nudged Dani’s elbow. “What are you so touchy about? This is a headline grabber. It could make your career.”

  “Jesus, Drew.”

  “What?”

  “Show some respect,” she said. “These people haven’t even been dead twenty-four hours.”

  Drew shot Scott a What’s with her? look, no doubt pissing Dani off more.

  She slid back from the table and stood. “I’ve got to get back to work.” She gave Scott a pointed look, and his pulse quickened. “I need those test results, ASAP. If you get anything at all, call me.”

  “When I get something, you’ll be the first to know.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Dani swung into the driveway and stared at her darkened house. Her front-porch light was out and her hedges needed trimming. Not exactly a shining example of home security, but she’d been going full speed at work and hadn’t had time for anything else.

  She grabbed her grocery bag and got out, glancing up and down the block at the familiar cars. Pretty quiet, even for a Monday. Only a few dog walkers out and a guy on the steps of his porch drinking a beer and talking on his phone. He lifted his bottle at Dani, and she gave him a wave.

  She let herself inside, stepping over the pile of mail under the mail slot—ads, mostly, and a bunch of bills she didn’t want to think about. She scooped everything up and dumped it atop the sealed cardboard box beside her door.

  Another stack of unopened mail greeted her in the kitchen as she dropped her frozen pizza on the counter and switched on the oven. She stripped off her jacket and holster and checked her phone for anything from Scott on the ballistics tests.

  No battery left. She plugged the phone into the charger and debated whether to call him for an update. He’d said he’d let her know as soon as he had anything, but maybe he’d gotten sidetracked.

  And maybe she was just looking for an excuse to call him.

  She thought back to New Year’s Eve. One kiss, and her skin still flushed at the memory—which was nothing short of embarrassing. She couldn’t stop wondering what it meant to him, if anything.

  Scott had been back in Texas four years now, and she’d seen him with plenty of women, but never the same one twice. The only thing that seemed to hold his attention was his job. She’d spotted his truck in the Delphi Center parking lot on weekends and evenings when she’d stopped by to deliver evidence, which probably shouldn’t have surprised her. He’d always been a hard worker.

  Scott and Drew had started hanging out the summer after Scott’s mom died from breast cancer. Scott had a special talent for showing up at mealtimes, and Dani’s mother never blinked an eye, just set an extra place at the table and kept the food coming. It was the same summer Scott and Drew got jobs on a house-painting crew, and for three months they’d walked around with sunburned noses and flecks of paint in their hair. Scott would turn up at the breakfast table when Dani hadn’t even known he’d spent the night, and he and her brother would wolf down pancakes before heading out to paint houses or blow their hard-earned cash at the movie theater.

  Scott had been quiet that summer, but it was a different sort of quiet from now. She’d sensed a change in him since he’d come back from combat. A fundamental shift. He seemed apart from everyone, even when he was in a room filled with people. Something about him was darker and more somber now, and Dani missed the playful glint in his eyes and the way the corner of his mouth would tick up whenever he teased her.

  She shook off the memory as she slid her pizza in the oven. Another gourmet meal in her new kitchen. One of these days she was going to have to unpack and get organized.

  The doorbell rang, and she glanced at the clock. She went to check the peephole and was surprised to see Ric. The look on his face had her yanking open the door.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” he asked as he stepped inside.

  “Battery’s dead. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. At least, I think so.” He pulled out his phone and checked it. He texted something to someone—probably Mia—then slid the phone in his pocket and turned to look at her. “I came by to update you.”

  “Come on in. You want a drink?”

  “I can’t stay.”

  She led him into the kitchen. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, our dinner’s melting in my front seat.” He glanced around at th
e cardboard boxes lining the walls of her living room. “You ever think about unpacking anything?”

  “I’ve got a system. One room at a time.”

  He leaned back against the counter and heaved a sigh. He still looked tired, but his eyes showed a glimmer of excitement.

  “You got an ID, didn’t you?”

  He nodded.

  Dani braced herself. She’d been longing for a name since the moment she’d seen the victim sprawled facedown in the dirt. She’d been shot twice in the back.

  “Tessa Lovett, twenty-six. Her white Volkswagen was on University Boulevard collecting parking tickets when I called over there. DMV records matched up.”

  “She local?”

  “She is now. Moved here from New Mexico about three months ago.”

  “Married? Children?” Dani held her breath.

  “No. And no roommate. She’s got an apartment over on Cypress Cove.” He pulled out his phone and tapped open a DMV record, then showed her the screen.

  Dani’s breath whooshed out. “That’s her.”

  Tessa Lovett had straight blond hair, brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. In her photo she looked pretty. And years younger than she’d looked on that autopsy table, all gray and inert.

  Dani grabbed a notepad and jotted down the info. “Cypress Cove. That’s not far from James Ayers.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that, too.”

  “So, is she a student?”

  “Research assistant in the biology department. I’ll go by campus tomorrow, find out more about her employment history. They gave me her contact info. She has an older sister in Santa Fe. We sent a uniform over there this evening to notify her. Officer’s supposed to get back to me soon.”

  Dani wrote everything down. “I can check out the apartment tonight.”

  “Wait until morning.”

  “Why?” She glanced up.

  “Reynolds called Delphi to help us process the scene. They’re meeting us over there at seven A.M.”

  “I bet Minh’s pissed.”

  “Yeah.”

  Their one and only full-time CSI didn’t like it when the department brass called in outside resources. But Minh specialized in fingerprint work, and most of his experience was in burglary and auto theft cases. This case was complicated and would likely undergo a ton of scrutiny when it ended up in court, so there was no room for error.

  “Anything back on ballistics?” Ric asked.

  “No prints on the shell casings, and so far all the slugs they recovered are worthless in terms of rifling marks. Also, I heard back from Roland. Tire impression behind the Accord traces back to a Goodyear tire. Based on that and some other info, Roland’s concluded the vehicle is a Ford Taurus.”

  Ric scoffed. “That narrows it down.”

  Tauruses were some of the most common cars around, making up a good chunk of taxi, police, and rental fleets around the country.

  “At least we know it’s not an SUV or a pickup,” she said. “So, the victim’s wife. You spoke to her again today?”

  “Went back to her house, yeah.”

  “You happen to notice what she drives?”

  “A Jeep Grand Cherokee. And I checked out her alibi. She said she was at Pilates, then came home and made dinner.”

  Dani tipped her head to the side. “How does she strike you?”

  “At the moment? Pissed off. And she’s humiliated, too.”

  “Not so much grieving?”

  “Not so much.”

  Still, people grieved in different ways. And in phases. By tomorrow the woman might be a basket case.

  “She seem like she’d be comfortable with a gun?” Dani asked.

  “Not really, but you never know. And she could have hired it out.”

  Dani glanced down at her notes. “Wow. You’ve accomplished a lot in twenty-four hours.”

  “So have you.”

  She forced herself not to argue. She needed to project confidence. Leadership. She might feel completely out of her league, but everyone else didn’t need to know that.

  Ric’s phone buzzed with another text. Probably Mia.

  “Well, your dinner’s melting,” Dani reminded him. “Cherry Garcia?”

  “Super Fudge Chunk,” he said, already moving for the door. He tugged out his phone and checked the message.

  “Everything okay?” she called after him.

  He waved over his shoulder and walked out the door.

  • • •

  Scott passed Ric Santos as he turned onto Dani’s street. He swung into her driveway and parked behind her crappy old Chevy.

  What the hell was he doing? He hadn’t been here in months, not since the day he and her brothers had helped her move. They’d spent an entire Saturday afternoon loading boxes in and out of a U-Haul in exchange for pizza and beer. Since that day, Scott had had no legitimate reason to come over here, so he’d forced himself to stay away.

  He looked at her house now. The white 1930s bungalow was small and quaint. Nothing fancy, but still something about it made him uneasy. A light switched on in the bedroom, and he thought about her walking around inside, maybe getting ready for bed.

  Dani was a nice girl. Woman. She was from a rock-solid family that had been good to him over the years. She wasn’t the kind of woman you fucked around with, and Scott didn’t have room in his life for anything else.

  He thought about that damn kiss. It had been over before it even started, and still it had been dogging him for months.

  It was his fault. He’d kissed her, but he’d been half-drunk and it had taken them both off guard. He wondered what she’d do if he showed up at her door right now and did it again. Would she give him the shove, or would she invite him inside to finish what they’d started?

  Scott had a feeling he knew. And he couldn’t have a one-night stand with his best friend’s sister. He figured one night was about how long it would take for him to get this obsession out of his system. One should be plenty. Then he could forget about Daniele Harper and get on with his regularly scheduled life.

  Scott walked up her sidewalk and banged on her door. The TV was on inside, and he could hear a newscaster droning on about the weather. He surveyed the weedy lawn and overgrown bushes surrounding her porch. She should know better than to let stuff like that go. He rapped on the door again, and finally it swung open.

  “You ever hear of a doorbell?” she asked, stepping back to let him in. She wore black yoga pants with a loose-fitting T-shirt, and her feet were bare.

  “Your TV’s too loud.”

  She closed the door and led him into the kitchen without comment, as though his visiting were a regular thing. The place hadn’t changed much since his last trip. The walls were still bare and she still had cardboard boxes stashed everywhere.

  “You planning to unpack ever?”

  “I’m pacing myself.”

  He spied a pizza box on the counter alongside a sixteen-ounce bottle of Coke. Dani was a junk food addict, although you wouldn’t know it from looking at her. She worked out plenty, but Scott liked to give her crap about it.

  “You eaten yet?” She opened the oven and pulled out a giant pizza covered with processed cheese.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Coke? Beer?”

  “No.” He leaned back against her counter and folded his arms over his chest. “You know, peanut butter on whole wheat takes less time to make and has twice the protein.”

  She shot him a glare as she slid her dinner onto a cutting board. She hunted up a paring knife and started butchering the pizza.

  He smiled slightly. “Hey, you want a Ka-Bar knife for that? Think I’ve got one in my truck.”

  Another glare. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”

  “I finished testing the embedded slug. The one from the car door.”

  “And?”

  She sounded so hopeful. She probably thought his coming all the way over here meant good news, when what
it really meant was that he liked to torture himself by hanging out with a woman he wanted but couldn’t have.

  “And nothing.”

  Her face fell.

  “No rifling marks whatsoever. So, that takes care of all the recovered bullets. Also, we concluded all the tests and nothing on the shell casings.”

  She leaned back against the counter, her dinner forgotten. “That’s disappointing.”

  He watched her eyes. The little worry line was back between her brows again.

  “Brooke came up empty, too,” she said, “with all the prints on the car.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m still waiting on the results of the hair and fibers she vacuumed from the floorboards, but realistically? I’m not expecting much. That seems like a long shot. We were really pinning our hopes on fingerprint evidence or DNA.”

  “And no sexual assault?”

  “No. Basically, we’ve got a huge crime scene and a mountain of physical evidence.” She sighed. “But nothing that points to a suspect.”

  “Hey, don’t get discouraged. You’ll catch a break.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you’re good.”

  Her gaze settled on his, and silence stretched out. She had that look again, that one she got sometimes when she was trying to read his thoughts.

  Which was his cue to leave. “I need to head out.” He moved for the door, and she trailed him into the living room.

  “Well, I appreciate the update.”

  “Right.”

  “Really. I know you’ve been working round the clock on this.”

  He opened the door and stepped onto the porch, and suddenly he had the urge to keep her talking. “I passed Ric on my way over. Anything new on his end?”

  “We got an ID on the woman.”

  He arched his brows in question.

  “Tessa Lovett, twenty-six. She was a research assistant at the university. Delphi’s going to help us process her apartment in the morning, see if we turn up any leads.”

  “And what’s your theory?”

  She leaned against the doorframe as though she had nothing better to do than talk to him while her dinner got cold. “Well, the phones and wallets are missing, but no jewelry stolen, and the car wasn’t taken, obviously. So a robbery motive doesn’t add up. We’re leaning toward a love triangle. Maybe the perp had been in communication with one of them.”