At Close Range

by Laura Griffin

  Dani cursed and ran after it. Her run slowed to a jog as the engine noise faded away.

  CHAPTER 12

  “He used a glass cutter.”

  Dani turned her attention away from the chaos in her driveway to see what Ric was talking about.

  “See?” He pointed at the small rectangular pane sitting atop her dryer.

  “I’ll be damned,” Jasper muttered. “Never seen that before.”

  The three of them were crowded into Dani’s laundry room beside the point of entry. The small, bump-out addition had a shorter clearance than the rest of the house, and Jasper had to keep his head ducked low just to stand inside.

  Dani hadn’t even noticed the pane of glass. The little suction cup attached to the pane explained why she hadn’t heard a shattering noise when the perp entered her house.

  “So . . . it looks like he took out that piece of glass, then reached in and flipped the bolt,” she said.

  “That would be my guess.” Ric gave her a dark look. It was a little more sophisticated than a typical break-in.

  Dani adjusted the paper towel she was holding at her elbow. She’d fallen on a metal dustpan when she tripped, and the cut had bled profusely. It was deep, but not enough to warrant stitches.

  In addition to the T-shirt she’d worn to bed, Dani now had on a pair of jeans she’d grabbed off the floor of her bedroom when the first patrol car showed up. There were streaks of blood on the leg, and people kept staring at her.

  “I can run you in for that,” Ric said, nodding at her cut.

  “I’m fine. Looks worse than it is.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  She squeezed past him and tromped down her back porch to survey the traffic jam in front of her house. It looked like a cop convention. Three patrol units, including Jasper’s. Two unmarked vehicles. Ric’s pickup truck.

  “You sure you don’t want me to call a bus?” Jasper asked now, and she shot him a glare.

  “I’m sure.”

  When he’d first suggested an ambulance, she’d refused, and he’d started to call one anyway until Dani threatened to have his badge. Not that she had that kind of rank, but the phrase had a nice ring to it, plus the added benefit of making him back down.

  Ric joined them on the driveway, looking at the uniformed officers milling around in her front yard. Now that the hubbub had died down, it was social hour. Some of Dani’s new neighbors stood on their porches in sweatpants and bathrobes, obviously wondering what all the fuss was about. Dani had given a few people the nutshell version and received suspicious looks in return, as though she’d brought some kind of bad luck with her when she moved into the neighborhood.

  She turned away from the spectacle to look at Ric. He didn’t seem happy, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was—that her break-in might be linked to the homicide case. She hadn’t told him about the weird feelings she’d been having lately, like someone was watching her or casing her house. But Ric had definitely picked up on the vibe she was giving off tonight.

  “You know, there have been some burglaries here in your neighborhood,” Jasper said. “Two on Apple Tree back in June. Another over on Briarcliff last week.”

  “Those were smash-and-grab jobs,” she said. “Cars, toolsheds. Nothing like this.”

  “So he got a laptop computer bag and a wallet,” Ric said, “but he left the purse. Anything else missing?”

  She shook her head and glanced back at her door. “I haven’t noticed anything else, but—damn it!”

  “What?”

  “I have to get on a plane to Albuquerque tomorrow. My driver’s license was stolen.”

  Ric watched her for a moment. “I can go.”

  “No.”

  “It’s only twenty-four hours, right? I should be able to swing it.”

  “No way,” she said.

  Mia would kill her. And anyway, Dani was not going to let this incident throw off her game plan. She finally had a decent lead to follow, and she intended to follow it.

  “I’ll take my passport,” she told Ric. She’d worry about getting her license replaced later. At least she had her badge, which she always kept on her nightstand beside her holster.

  Dani dabbed her arm again. The bleeding had completely stopped, so she stuffed the paper towel into her pocket as a familiar white pickup rolled to a stop in front of her house. Dax hopped out. He looked around at all the cars, and his gaze homed in on her as he strode up the driveway.

  “Good news travels fast.” Dani shot a look at Ric, who shook his head.

  “I didn’t call him.”

  “I heard it on the scanner.” Her brother rested his hand on her shoulder, which was the closest they got to hugging. “You okay?”

  The number of questions loaded into those two little words made Dani’s throat feel tight. She knew what he was really asking.

  “I’m fine. No injuries.” Sexual or otherwise.

  “Except for your arm,” Ric countered, looking at Dax. “She might need stitches.”

  “I do not need stitches. It’s just a cut.”

  Dax rested his hands on his hips and frowned down at her. He was in street clothes. His favorite snakeskin boots, too, which meant he’d been out tonight. And he’d heard about this over the scanner at three in the morning? He must have been coming home from a hot date.

  Dax gave her a long, searching look, then glanced at her back door, which stood ajar. Without a word, he walked inside to check things out.

  Dani sighed, trying not to get annoyed. In fact, she appreciated the department-wide response more than she could say. She felt deeply touched. She took a lot of crap for being a woman and a cop’s kid, but the guys had her back, there was no question of that.

  “We need to interview your neighbors,” Ric said. “See if anyone got a look at the truck.”

  “Yeah, just let me grab a jacket.” And she had to put a bra on, too.

  “I meant us, not you. This isn’t your report, Dani.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll handle it,” Ric said firmly. “Christine’s already over there talking to the residents where the truck was parked, seeing if anyone saw anything. You’re sure you didn’t see a plate? Even a single digit?”

  “I barely saw that it was a truck. It was out of there so fast.”

  “It’s better than nothing.”

  Dax rejoined them on the driveway. He looked her up and down, obviously noticing her bare feet and her blood-streaked jeans with the Glock tucked in the waistband. He nodded his head toward her porch, signaling that he wanted a private conversation. Dani followed him.

  “You didn’t discharge your weapon?” he asked when they were alone.

  “No, thank God. Can you imagine the paperwork? It was a simple burglary.”

  She tried to keep it light, but her brother wasn’t buying it. He had a radar for stuff, and he rested his hand on her shoulder again.

  “Are you really okay, Dani?”

  “Yes.” She forced a smile. “Really, I’m fine.”

  • • •

  Nine hours later she still wasn’t fine, but she was closer. She had on fresh clothes and a fresh bandage on her elbow, and she’d managed to pick out most of the splinters she’d gotten embedded in her feet while scaling her neighbor’s fence.

  She’d had exactly zero minutes of sleep, but the supersize coffee she’d bought in the airport was keeping her eyes open. And her headache was mostly gone now, thanks to the aspirin she’d been popping like Tic Tacs.

  Dani peered out the airplane window at the mountains below. The land looked dry. Thirsty. As they circled the city, she gazed down at the sun-drenched terrain and wondered if the key to her investigation was somewhere below.

  Everything was an enigma. Most of all, Scott’s involvement. It didn’t make sense. His prints were all over the murder weapon. Six good prints.

  And then one partial print that belonged to someone else.

  Whose
was it? The man at the gun range? Was he the killer? But who was he and why had he framed Scott?

  If, in fact, he had framed Scott. As much as Dani hated to admit it, Sean had a point. No matter what Scott told them, they had no concrete evidence that the gun Scott had handled at the shooting range was actually the murder weapon. It was all speculation, not fact.

  The facts they did have were pretty damning. A Glock nine had been used to kill two people. The gun had been recovered near the crime scene. It had one victim’s blood on it, along with Scott’s fingerprints.

  As those facts percolated in Dani’s head, her feeling of dread increased. Those facts alone could be enough for an arrest. Those facts, plus some skillful courtroom maneuvering, might be enough for a conviction. Scott could be looking at life in prison, or even the death penalty.

  Dani shuddered. She couldn’t get sucked into worst-case scenarios. She wouldn’t. What she would do was uncover a different version of events that explained the facts. Three people were dead. They shared a common field of expertise and two common places of employment. It was up to Dani to figure out what that meant.

  She leaned her head back against the seat and her thoughts drifted to her break-in.

  Don’t think about it.

  She tried to force it out of her mind. No point in fretting over it until and unless Ric called with a lead. Which might not happen.

  After finishing the canvass of two entire blocks in her neighborhood, police hadn’t found a single person who’d noticed the pickup truck used by Dani’s intruder. No one had noticed anyone loitering around in recent days, or even any suspicious-looking strangers passing through.

  Maybe it was just some kid looking for drug money. It was possible. As Jasper had pointed out, there had been a string of burglaries in her area recently.

  But she sensed this was different. Several elements of the crime made her think this wasn’t just some teen looking for a few bucks to support his habit. The glass cutter, for one. And the vehicle, for another. And then there was the exit route. He’d taken the back way out of her neighborhood, avoiding the multiple traffic cams on Main Street that might have caught him on tape. Plan or coincidence? Dani didn’t know.

  But she had a feeling.

  Stop thinking about it.

  Her thoughts drifted to Scott. She closed her eyes and imagined she was with him again, pressed against his body as he kissed her with so much pent-up frustration she’d been dizzy from it. Where had all that come from? And what the hell did it mean?

  The first kiss had caught her totally off guard, and she’d chalked it up to New Year’s Eve insanity.

  The other night seemed different, though. Was he trying to start something?

  Not likely. They’d been friends for years and he’d never shown that kind of interest in her. Her brothers would definitely freak. They loved Scott, but as a buddy, not a boyfriend for their sister.

  Scott’s exploits were legendary. As a teenager he’d been a daredevil, always drumming up crazy things to do—cliff jumping, free-climbing, drag racing. Posted speed limits and NO TRESPASSING signs meant nothing to him.

  His exploits with women were just as notorious, especially after he’d become a SEAL. He’d come back from BUD/S with an air of confidence that was like catnip for females, who noticed him wherever he went. Of course, his body didn’t hurt. And those intense blue eyes.

  That was about the time Dani had started to steer clear of him. She never wanted to be lumped in with those fawning women. She never wanted Scott to think of her like that. She had her pride.

  But she didn’t want him to think of her as Drew’s baby sister, either, which was how he’d always treated her . . . with the notable exception of New Year’s Eve.

  And the other night.

  She couldn’t figure it out. She wasn’t his type. She knew what kind of woman drew his attention because she’d seen it happen with her own eyes. He went for women who had blond hair and big boobs and flirty smiles that seemed to say, Bring it on.

  Dani had none of those things. She had average looks and wore no-nonsense clothes, and she didn’t flirt with men, she argued. It was just what she did. She’d grown up in a house full of males, and the only way to get anything was to be pushy about it. Her mother often suggested Dani would have more of a social life if she’d tone it down around men, but that wasn’t Dani’s style, and she didn’t intend to change now.

  She gripped the armrests as they came in for a bumpy landing. Dani didn’t like flying and wasn’t looking forward to the return trip tomorrow. But with any luck this whole thing would be over soon. She planned to get in and out of Albuquerque within twenty-four hours. Dani’s boss had approved the quick trip when he heard about the connection of all three victims to Trinity University. It was too big an overlap to ignore, and everyone agreed that someone had to follow up on the lead.

  She needed a change, however brief. She needed to get away, clear her head, and find a fresh angle on the case. She also needed a break from home. Dax had offered to have her window repaired while she was out of town, and she’d taken him up on it, ridiculously grateful to be able to come home to a fixed door. She didn’t like that she felt so paranoid. She was a cop. She was trained in self-defense and she slept with her service weapon within reach.

  But in spite of all that, she was still a woman living alone, and every time she looked at her back door now she felt violated. Some nameless, faceless man had broken into her home while she’d been there, tucked into bed with the illusion of safety draped over her like a blanket. It made her feel weak and vulnerable and severely pissed off.

  So this little business trip her department was funding couldn’t have come at a better time. She needed a break from a lot of things, including Scott.

  When they reached the gate, Dani pulled her carry-on from the overhead bin and filed past the cockpit, giving the pilot a nod. She’d introduced herself to him before takeoff, and he’d welcomed her aboard with her sidearm and badge, happy to have a potential air marshal on the flight. Dani navigated her way through the terminal, which was teeming with summer travelers in cutoff shorts and flip-flops. The crowd seemed unusually thick today, but maybe she was imagining it. Still, she felt a prickle of unease as she made her way through the masses.

  When she finally reached the car rental area, the prickle of unease turned to full-blown worry. People crowded the waiting area, lounging against backpacks and duffel bags and guitar cases. It was definitely a young group, with plenty of tattoos and piercings on display. Everyone was either manically texting or looking stoned out of their minds.

  Dani maneuvered her way into the shortest line and eavesdropped on the conversation at the counter, where a rental agent was arguing with a young woman over a reservation.

  Damn it, she should have booked something ahead. Not that she’d had much lead time.

  “You’ll never get a car.”

  She whirled around, and Scott’s blue eyes stared down at her. Panic zinged through her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Same thing you are.” His mouth curved into a smirk. “I’m headed for Trinity University. It’s sixty miles north of town. Or so I’m told.”

  “But—”

  “There’s a music fest in Santa Fe. Everything’s overbooked.”

  Dani stared up at him with disbelief. Had he been on her flight? Impossible. She definitely would have noticed him.

  “I was on the nine-fifteen,” he said, reading her mind.

  “Then why are you still here?”

  It was after one o’clock, so he had to have landed hours ago.

  “Had to wait on my bag. And my rental car.”

  She watched him, letting that sink in. Of course he’d checked a bag. Scott didn’t go anywhere without his gun, and he couldn’t bring it aboard the flight without a badge.

  “Wait. Just . . . stop.” She held up her hand. “Trinity? So you know about the Kreznik connection. How?”

  “How
do you think? I’ve been investigating.”

  Frustration flooded her. “You’re not a cop, Scott.”

  “Yeah, no kidding. I had to check my Sig.”

  “You can’t just go around investigating a homicide. You shouldn’t even be here!”

  He eased closer, and she felt the tension in his body.

  “Listen to me, Daniele.” His voice was low and tinged with warning. “In the past week I’ve been set up for murder, interrogated like a criminal, and suspended from my job. You’d better believe I’m investigating. I need to clear my name or my reputation is history. Do you understand what that means?”

  She stared up at him, shocked by the raw anger in his eyes.

  “Every case I’ve ever touched, every trial I’ve ever testified in during the last four years, will be called into question. So, whether you like it or not, I don’t give a damn. I’m not letting loose of this thing until I figure out exactly what the fuck is going on.”

  She stood there, speechless, as his blue eyes bored into her.

  She glanced back at the reservation desk, where tensions were escalating between harried rental agents and their carless customers. Dani bit her lip and mulled her options. Without transportation, this was a wasted trip.

  “Fine.” She looked up at him. “Where’s your car?”

  CHAPTER 13

  Sean pulled over behind a red SUV and surveyed Kreznik’s fishing cabin. Or what was left of it. The whole front of the cabin had been reduced to a blackened shell. Sean noted the crime-scene van with the Delphi Center logo on its side as he got out. He flashed his badge at the county firefighters hanging out in front of the damaged house, and the yellow Labrador sitting at their feet got up and wagged his tail.

  “Is Putnam here?” Sean asked. The sheriff’s deputy in charge of this case had said he’d be here this morning.

  “You just missed him,” one of the firefighters told Sean. “The CSI’s still here, though. She can update you.”

  “She inside?”

  “Around the back.” The guy nodded toward a row of cottonwood trees that shaded what was left of the structure. Beyond the trees, the lot sloped down to the water and a wooden boathouse.