“What?”
“That bruise on your chin.”
She stared straight ahead through the windshield. She was wearing a linen blazer to conceal her sidearm today, so he hadn’t seen her elbow yet. But she should have figured he’d notice the bruise that she’d mysteriously acquired after he’d left her house last night. Scott was observant.
“You get in a bar fight? Chase down a suspect? What?” His tone was light, but the look on his face was serious. Maybe Drew had told him something.
“Someone broke into my house.”
“You’re serious?”
“Stole my wallet and my laptop off the kitchen table.”
“And assaulted you?”
“No.” She shot Scott a look. “I tripped over a laundry basket and hit my chin on the dryer.”
“You fucking went after him?”
“He was in my house. What would you have done?”
Scott didn’t answer. The muscles in his jaw tightened. She expected him to tell her she should have waited for the police to show up and help her, but if he thought that, he was smart enough to keep it to himself.
He cut a glance at her, and she could see the worry in his eyes. “Your personal laptop or your laptop from work?”
She scoffed. “We hardly have desktops at work. It was my Mac.”
“Was there anything about the case on it?”
“You’re thinking the break-in is related?”
“Aren’t you?”
She didn’t answer.
“Come on. You’ve been paranoid for days. I’ve seen it. Has someone been following you?”
She glanced at him.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know. I thought . . .” She trailed off, not sure how much to say.
“Tell me, God damn it.”
“I thought maybe someone was tailing me. I never saw a car or anything. It was just a feeling I had over the past couple days.”
He shook his head.
“What?”
“Don’t discount your instincts, Daniele. You know better than that.”
She took a deep breath and tried not to get defensive because he was right. Those feelings of suspicion—however fleeting—were her brain’s way of warning her. Even if she didn’t know where the feelings came from, they came from somewhere. That was what her dad always told her. Trust your gut, Dani. Your gut knows things your mind hasn’t put into words yet. Some people called it cop instincts, but it applied to anyone.
She glanced at Scott, and he was still waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know. It could be related, but I don’t see how. My computer’s password protected. And even if someone gets past the password, what is there to see? It’s not like I have top secret files on it or anything. The only thing work related is my email.”
“That could be important. Have you emailed any reports about the case?”
She’d gone through the same logic. “Not much. The ME’s findings are on my computer at work. Kelsey emailed me an autopsy report yesterday, but that’s about it.”
Scott didn’t say anything.
“Maybe someone’s fishing around, trying to connect the dots.”
“Trying to find out what you know. You were at the press conference the other day. Your face has been on TV.”
“I realize that. But the whole incident could just as easily be some kid looking for drug money. My wallet had a fair amount of cash in it. I’d hit the ATM on the way home from work because I was traveling today . . . so maybe someone followed me home from the bank? And there have been some break-ins in my neighborhood lately.”
“Same pattern?”
“Not really. Mostly cars.”
“How’d he get in?”
“Took out one of the glass windowpanes on my back door, then reached in and flipped the bolt.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “You didn’t hear the noise?”
“He used a glass cutter.”
“Damn it, Dani.”
“He didn’t want a confrontation. He took off as soon as he heard me. I didn’t get a good look at him.”
“What about his vehicle?”
That was the part she didn’t like, the part that had kept her awake all night.
“He was in a pickup truck. He parked a couple blocks over and sped away before I could see the plate.”
“Did you get a look at him when he got inside?”
“No.”
“Hair color? Skin color? Anything at all?”
Leave it to Scott to zero in on the one detail that had kept her up all night tossing and turning.
“It was too dark. When he jumped in the truck and sped off, the interior light didn’t come on. Neither did the headlights, so I really didn’t see a thing. He basically disappeared.”
Scott pulled into a gas station and swung into a parking space near the convenience store. He cut the engine and turned to face her, and she saw all her innermost worries reflected in his steely gaze.
She didn’t believe her intruder was some kid looking for drug money. He had a pickup truck. And he’d used a glass cutter. And he’d had the forethought to disable the lights on his vehicle so he could get away unseen. This wasn’t some drugged-out teenager. This was someone smart.
“Daniele—”
“Don’t say it. I don’t like it, either, okay?”
“Tell me you called your CSI.”
“He fingerprinted my door, my purse, all of it, so you can stop freaking out.”
“Don’t make light of this. He was in your goddamn house.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
He sighed and rubbed his hand over his chin, which was dark with stubble now. It had been a long, tedious day, and it wasn’t over yet.
Dani looked around the gas station. It was busy with cars and trucks and SUVs. A red Ferrari was parked beside a gas pump, and she did a double take as she noticed the vanity license plate: AMISH.
She looked at Scott, who seemed oblivious of everything as he stared at her with that grim look. His tone was protective. He was seriously concerned about her—which did funny things to her heart.
“Why are we here?” she asked, changing the subject. “We don’t need gas.”
“I need fuel.” He shoved open his door. “Want anything?”
She didn’t, but she welcomed the distraction. “I’ll have a Coke. The real deal, with sugar and caffeine.”
He went into the store and Dani scrolled through her phone, but didn’t have any more updates. Scott returned a few minutes later with a plastic bag that he handed to her. Two water bottles, a Coke, and a banana.
“You on a health kick?” she asked suspiciously.
He ignored her and pulled back onto the highway. Dani guzzled her soft drink, and the sugar rush was instantaneous. She returned her attention to the navigation system.
“You’re taking a right on the highway up here. It should be a couple more miles.”
The two-lane route curved through some rugged canyons that looked rosy pink in the late-day sun. Across an arid valley were foothills covered with spruce trees. Beyond the hills, some low mountains.
“It’s prettier than I expected.” She glanced at Scott, but he didn’t comment. “You ever been here before?”
“No.”
More silence. She got fed up and stuffed her drink in the cup holder.
“Reminds me of Afghanistan.”
She looked at him, startled. He’d never said a word about his tours of duty. He’d made it clear the topic was off-limits.
“You ever miss it?”
“Afghanistan? No. Place was a hellhole.”
“No, I mean the job.”
He kept his eyes on the road, and she could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. Well, tough toenails. She didn’t want to talk about her case with him, and yet he’d been hounding her about it for days. She needed a new subject.
“I’ve been wondering since you got back.”
“Wondering what?” He sounded guarded now.
“How you feel about it. Being home. Not being a SEAL anymore.”
He adjusted the rearview mirror, and she waited for him to say something evasive.
“Yes, I miss it.”
Wow, an answer. A brief one, but it sounded genuine.
“I miss it every day.” He looked at her. “I’d go back there in a heartbeat if I could.”
She felt a pinch in her chest and turned to look out the window as the landscape whisked by.
“Do you miss the job or—”
“The people. It’s not like anywhere else. Those guys are like . . .”
She looked at him. “What?”
He shook his head.
Like family? Like brothers?
Scott wasn’t close to his family—never had been, even before his mother died. His father was a retired marine and a recovering alcoholic. He was known to be a hard-ass, too, and Dani figured their rocky relationship was one reason Scott had joined the navy soon after graduation.
She studied his expression. She didn’t know what he’d been about to say, and he’d clammed up. He didn’t talk about combat, and he’d never spoken to her about the incident that knocked him out of the teams. Drew had told her that one of Scott’s friends had died that same day, but that was all she knew about it.
He looked tense now, and she felt guilty for bringing it up.
But then again . . . she didn’t. This was an opportunity to talk to him alone, and she wanted to milk it. So often when she saw him, they were at a bar or a restaurant or at work. They were always surrounded by people—her brothers, his coworkers, other cops—and now, in this rare time alone together, she wanted to talk about all those things she’d been wondering about for years. Did he miss his teammates? Did he miss combat? Was he relieved as hell, like she was, that he’d gotten out of there in one piece?
Had he thought about her at all while he was gone?
The car was silent except for the low-pitched hum of the engine as the road wended its way into the hills. Maybe she didn’t want answers to those questions.
“So . . . are you sorry you’re home?”
He didn’t look at her. “Yes and no.”
She waited, hoping he’d expand on his reasons.
“Over there”—he glanced at her—“the littlest things have life-and-death consequences. Here at home, nothing does. For the longest time that bothered me. And then I started at Delphi. What I do there, it’s totally different, but it has consequences. Same as what you do.”
She watched him, surprised by his words again.
“I’m looking for a turnoff on the right,” he said.
And that was it. Personal discussion over.
She returned her attention to the map. “Spruce Canyon Road. Looks like about half a mile.”
The hillsides were steeper now and covered with fir trees. Since leaving the college they seemed to be gaining altitude.
She spotted the sign. “Here you go.”
He slowed and took the corner, and it was a two-lane road again, but this one was narrower and poorly maintained. The incline increased and the car’s engine started to choke.
Scott muttered a curse and tapped the brake. He slowed but kept going up and up until the road leveled out and the canyon opened up into a wide valley. It was dry and covered with scrub brush. To Dani’s right a black wooden fence stretched far into the distance. She looked for a gate or a ranch house, but didn’t see one.
Dani checked the navigation system and glanced around. “Slow down,” she said as they neared a bank of mailboxes on the opposite side of the road. She leaned forward and read the numbers, comparing them to the address the clerk had given her for Collins.
“This it?” he asked.
“No, but we’re getting close.”
Scott drove on, and Dani took in the picturesque valley in the evening sun. She stared at the endless wooden fence, all straight and true and freshly painted. Beyond it were undulating hills dotted with oak trees. A pair of chestnut-colored horses stood in the shade, flicking their tails in the breeze.
“Should be coming up here,” Dani said. “And this isn’t what I expected for a university professor. That fence alone must cost a fortune.”
“Forget the fence. Look at those purebreds.”
She glanced at him. “Since when are you an equestrian?”
“I’m not, but those are some nice horses.”
Another bank of mailboxes came into view, this time on Dani’s side of the road. Scott slowed down.
“Five-six-nine,” she said. “This is it.”
He turned onto a one-lane road, and the tempo changed as the tires hit gravel. The route curved along a dried-up creek bed, and Scott navigated ruts and holes as Dani searched the area for any sign of a house. They rounded a bend and the road dead-ended at an open metal gate.
Scott halted the car.
Dani got out before he could start telling her what to do. She tromped over to the gate, which stood open over a cattle guard. She didn’t see any cattle, though. And instead of a freshly painted wooden fence, this property was cordoned off with rusted barbed wire. A weathered A-frame cabin perched at the top of a steep dirt driveway.
“Think he lives up there?” she asked Scott.
“Somebody does.” He stood beside the gate now, examining the heavy-duty chain draped around the fence post. He lifted the shiny combination lock attached to it.
“This lock is new. That satellite dish looks new, too.” He nodded at the house. “Don’t see a car, but it could be parked behind the house.”
“Guess I’ll find out. I won’t be long.” She stepped over the cattle guard and he followed her. “Scott.”
“I’m coming.”
“You can’t just—”
“I can and I will, Dani.” He gave her a look that left no room for argument.
“Fine, but I need you to stay out of sight. If I see so much as your shadow . . .” She tried to come up with something threatening.
He smiled down at her. “You’ll what?”
“I’ll be extremely pissed at you.”
“Damn. Wouldn’t want that.”
“I mean it. This is official police business.”
“Don’t worry, I’m invisible.”
CHAPTER 14
Dani hiked up the steep driveway to the cabin, glancing cautiously around for a dog. She saw no movement, canine or otherwise, as she neared the wooden steps to the front door.
The cabin was surrounded by ponderosas and spruces. It was neatly built, with a steeply pitched roof and a narrow balcony that wrapped around the second floor. The bottom level consisted of a small enclosure beneath the deck. A dusty white pickup truck was pulled up close to the door, blocking the path.
Dani glanced upstairs to the second level, where a door flanked by two neat stacks of firewood appeared to be the main entrance.
“Hello!” she called as she tromped up the steps. “Anyone home?”
She tried to sound friendly in case Collins was the gun-toting sort. This whole area had a definite Wild West feel to it.
At the top of the steps she was surprised by the expansive view. The west side of the cabin was all windows looking out over the treetops to the wide valley. A low mesa rose up on the other side, and the sun was sinking low, casting the valley in shades of gold. Dani shielded her eyes from the glare and surveyed the property. She saw another barbed-wire fence, a rickety-looking shed, and another stack of firewood. But she didn’t see Scott.
“Can I help you?”
Dani spun around. Nathan Collins stood behind her at the top of the stairs. She hadn’t heard him come up, and she’d been paying attention.
The man was tall and thin and had greasy long blond hair that hung over his eyes. He wore a plaid flannel shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. Despite a full beard, he seemed young, too young to be a PhD. He looked more like a lumberjack strung out on meth.
“Dr. Collins?”
He gave a slight nod and approached her, his brown eyes wary.
“I’m Detective Daniele Harper, San Marcos PD.” She expected to have to explain further, but his expression told her she didn’t need to.
“You’re here about James and Tessa.”
“That’s right. I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes?” She tried to sound low-key, but he didn’t respond. “It won’t take long.”
He probably knew that was a lie, but he gave another nod and moved to open the door. It hadn’t been locked and she hadn’t heard a vehicle, so she guessed he’d been out walking around somewhere nearby. If so, had he noticed Scott?
Inside, the cabin was the same warm temperature as outside. Dani stood by the door for a moment and looked around. The place smelled faintly of burned toast. To her right was a sitting area with a sofa draped in a Mexican blanket. In the corner of the room stood a wood-burning stove.
“Tea?”
She glanced at Collins. “Uh, no. Thank you.”
The small kitchen had old appliances and a drop-leaf table. He darted a look at the notebook computer on the table before stepping over to the sitting area.
“You’re pretty far from home, aren’t you, Detective?”
She shrugged as if the trip up had been nothing. “It was a quick flight.” She took a seat on the end of the couch, and he moved a pile of files off a wooden chair and sat down.
“I heard it from a coworker,” he said.
“A coworker at Trinity or . . . ?” She trailed off to see if he’d pick up the thread.
“Earlier this week when I stopped by to pick up my mail.” He shook his head and looked at the floor. “Really unbelievable. I talked to James just the other day. It seems impossible that he’s gone.”
She watched him carefully, trying to get a read.
He played the harmless academic pretty well. He certainly wasn’t physically intimidating. But something about his eyes, a sharpness, told her he was choosing his words carefully.
She tugged a notepad from her pocket. “And did you call James or—”
“He called me.”
She knew this already, but she jotted it down. He hadn’t mentioned Tessa calling, which was interesting.
“What was James calling about?”
At Close Range Page 13