by Renee Roman
Between Cam and Maggie, they’d uncovered details about Brace’s adoptive parents. They lived in the upscale area of Scarsdale and owned a large home, nearly the size of a mansion. No doubt they had money and moved in affluent circles. So why was he a police officer when he could have pursued any career avenue he wanted? Cam would have liked to believe he’d done it out of a sense of duty to his community. A higher calling, so to speak. But there was something sinister and threatening in his expression. Cam shook her head. Maybe that was just her grasping at straws and fabricating parallels from her past in order to delay Sarah’s departure. She needed to consider other motives for what she considered an unfriendly demeanor.
“He’s egotistical and so full of himself I almost barfed.” Maggie pointed to the screen. From the pictures on his social media site, Brace Archer was, indeed, a male chauvinist. There were a lot of women who chatted him up and he smirked into the lens several times a day, showing a big smile. His comments had to do with women’s anatomy and ability to serve, rather than anything worth reading. And none of it did anything to hide the darkness in his eyes. Whether it was cruelty or just a general malice for life, Cam wasn’t sure.
The thought of Brace and Sarah in a room together brought a foreboding chill up her spine. He looked like he could be easily provoked into a rage, and Cam was all too familiar with what male rage could lead to. It was the same look she’d first seen in the picture on Paul’s mantel.
She’d do whatever she had to do to keep Sarah from being disappointed by Brace if she could help it, whether it was her place to do it or not. She hoped he wasn’t as big an asshole as he looked, although at least if he was blatant about it, Sarah would find out right away and not become too attached.
“I agree.” Cam had two more databases to search. Then she’d decide on the next step of her investigation, if there was one. “Not the wholesome, all-American young man I expected.”
“Sarah’s nothing like him,” Maggie said.
She looked over her shoulder and Maggie laughed. “You don’t have to look so surprised. I told you my behavior had nothing to do with Ms. Peters and everything to do with you. I’ve apologized to her, and I promise I’m on my best behavior.” She gently tapped Cam’s shoulder and moved around the desk. “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Could you put on some coffee before you leave?”
Maggie scowled.
Cam ignored her as she rapidly clicked through a succession of screens. When Maggie hadn’t moved, she made eye contact. “I ate lunch, now I want coffee.” And it will keep any migraine at bay. The telltale sign of pressure behind her eyes let her know something was headed her way. She didn’t share that pearl with Maggie.
* * *
“Sarah.”
Mark Johnson handed her an envelope and she moved off to the side. Some jobs paid better than others, but work was work and she’d taken the first available job that was offered. As she tore into it, she held her breath, hoping it would be enough to pay a few bills and buy some groceries. The gross amount was good, but once all the deductions were taken out, her mood soured. It would barely be enough to get by. Still, she was grateful for the work. Once her boss was done handing out checks, she approached him.
“Mr. Johnson?”
He turned to face her and smiled. “Yes, Sarah?”
“Do you know if there’s any overtime on another job?” Sarah tried to keep her voice even, not wanting him to know how desperate she was for the extra money.
His forehead wrinkled. “Haven’t you put in a full week already?”
She glanced around, making sure none of her coworkers were in hearing distance. “Yes, but the extra helps to pay off my mother’s medical bills.” She hated admitting she was struggling to make ends meet, but she knew honesty was the best way to get someone on your side.
He studied her for a long minute, then nodded. “I’ll call around and text you if I find something.”
Sarah looked down at the envelope in her hand. Maybe I should get a roommate. If someone else shared in the expense of the utilities and general upkeep of the house, she’d have a much easier time. Then she could spend her free hours on her art rather than working overtime. Her pieces might even sell with more time to promote them. Mark cleared his throat, rousing her from her deep thoughts. She raised her face and met his kind look.
“Thank you.”
Sarah got in her car and prayed it would start. Lately, the vehicle sounded as though it was in need of a tune-up, but that was an expense she didn’t have in her budget. After a few tense seconds, the engine turned over. She patted the dash and mumbled, “That’s a good girl.” It didn’t escape her that it had been a very long time since she’d had as much attention.
* * *
“Good afternoon.” Cam looked at her notes again, even though she knew what she’d written by heart. “Could I speak to Officer Archer, please?”
“Who’s calling?”
Cam heard voices in the background and considered if she should have made the trip, rather than try to find out more over the phone. “My name is Camdyn Stark. I’m a private investigator.”
She listened as the officer called out, “Anyone seen Archer?” The cacophony of noise was deafening, and she wondered how anyone got anything done in an environment like that. She preferred her quiet setting, where she could concentrate on the details of whatever case she was working.
“Hold on a minute.”
A litany of crime prevention tips began playing in her ear. Never leave the keys in your car. Always lock your doors. Be aware of your surroundings. Blah, blah. Though she appreciated the sentiment, Cam was in no mood for the android voice droning in her head. Relief loosened her jaw when the phone clicked.
“He’s not here. Wanna leave a message?”
“Any idea when Officer Archer will be there? It’s not critical, but it is important that I speak with him.”
“Your guess is as good as mine. He’s probably pounding pavement. No telling if he’ll even show today.”
Cam knew how it went, especially since Archer was working in the narcotics division. He might be on a stakeout, meaning he could be away for hours…or days. “Can I leave my number and a message to call me?”
“Yeah.”
Cam gave her info and hung up. Something was niggling at her brain, and she felt uneasy. It wasn’t a good sign. She reached for the phone.
“Yeah, boss?” Maggie asked.
“I’m going to pay a visit to the station where Archer works.”
“Isn’t that a little out of the ordinary? You’ve got the basics.”
Cam looked at the papers spread in front of her. “My gut’s telling me he isn’t what he seems. So yeah, it might be just a hunch, but I’m going.”
There was only a moment of hesitation. “You’re the boss.”
Cam looked at the receiver. Maggie was being agreeable, and when it came to going above and beyond the norm, she usually had an opinion. One Cam would have called her on in this case. She was more than aware she was stretching her professional duty and couldn’t remember another instance when she’d ridden the edge of impropriety. Everything that involved Sarah was anything but normal, and neither was her need to protect her. Sarah was already emotionally invested in her brother, and for Sarah’s sake she hoped her instincts were wrong.
Chapter Fourteen
Cam stood waiting for the officer behind the bulletproof barrier to end his phone conversation. They’d made eye contact and he’d held up a finger between head nods and scribbling on the pad in front of him. She had all she could to keep from pacing. It wasn’t like her to be so impatient, but the feeling of dread had steadily built on the drive. She had no idea what it meant, but she wasn’t about to ignore her instincts. They’d managed to keep her out of the ground so far.
“What can I do for you?”
She glanced at the name on his badge, then cleared her throat and showed her identification. “Camdyn Stark. I
called earlier to talk with Officer Archer. Would he happen to be around, Officer Graves?”
He studied the open wallet before glancing at a roster sheet and flipping through several pages, then looked back up. “He checked in a little while ago. Narc division’s on the second floor.” He was about to reach under the counter for what Cam knew was the door release before he hesitated.
“You carrying?” He looked her in the eye. She didn’t miss his quick assessment of the form-fitting button-down shirt she was wearing.
“No, sir.”
He nodded and a loud electronic buzz sounded. The metal detector was silent as she stepped through. Cam adjusted the folder in her hand and made her way down the short corridor to the elevators. The drone of voices with the occasional shout echoed along the flat gray walls. They really needed to hire an interior decorator. Their job was already depressing enough.
She took a deep breath before spotting the sign for the staircase. She took the stairs two at a time to avoid one more death trap box. It wouldn’t be fair to have an attitude before even meeting him if she got the chance. She needed to keep her personal feelings about Sarah in check. She was on a fact-finding mission.
She glanced at the folder in her hand. She hadn’t brought any identifying information on Sarah, except for a recent photo she’d requested that Sarah supply the last time they were together. The close-up showed off Sarah’s striking beauty, making the most of her startling blue eyes and blond hair. The lighter streaks were most likely due to exposure to the sun rather than from bleach. She became momentarily lost before regaining her footing.
Cam read the signs on the doors as she walked along. Interrogation One. Interrogation Two. Men’s. Women’s. The farther she went, the darker the hallway. When she reached the end, the door facing her was the one she wanted. She squared her shoulders and put on what she hoped was her “all business” look. Opening the door, she heard the murmurs and rapid tapping of keys. No one noticed her. A bit troubling for a police division, but then, they probably had a lot more to worry about with the gang activity and random shootings that centered around drugs. She picked out an officer who looked affable and cleared her throat.
“Excuse me. Would you happen to know where I might find Officer Archer?”
He leaned forward, looking toward an empty desk off to the right. He sat back. “He’s not here.” She didn’t miss the contempt in his voice and wondered if she’d found a way to get a little more information than she could from public records. She stuck out her hand and smiled.
“Camdyn Stark, PI. Do you happen to know when he’ll return?”
“Barnes,” he said as he stood and took her hand. Barnes glanced around. There were a half dozen other officers in the room, all preoccupied on the phone or the screens they were staring at, or talking to each other. “Not likely. He’s…” Barnes appeared to be chewing on his words, but it was obvious something about Archer was either bugging him or pissing him off. He shrugged. “He’s not here often and rarely returns once he’s left.”
She hung on to his words, hoping to convey a serious level of interest in what he wasn’t saying. Maybe she could convince him to tell her why if she was careful. “Is that how everyone works in the division?”
He snorted. “Hardly.” He glanced around again, suddenly seeming nervous.
She leaned in and kept her voice low. “Would you like to get a cup of real coffee? I know I would, and I’m not familiar with the area.”
Barnes glanced at his watch. “What the hell,” he said as he stood and grabbed his jacket off the chair. “Close enough for lunch.”
It was barely after eleven, but she imagined he’d been there since early morning. Most officers she knew didn’t sleep that great and would rather work than toss and turn. Once outside, they walked side by side in silence until Barnes slowed and pointed to a nondescript cafe. “Doesn’t look like much, but they have good coffee and even better specials.” He opened the door and waved her in.
While the outside had appeared less than welcoming, the inside was bright and clean. The din of busy workers and patrons was a nice change from the greasy spoon diners she imagined most on the force frequented.
“We can order and get our drinks. They’ll bring our food to the table.” He perused the menu, settling on the chicken salad on rye with a side of fries. Chicken salad sounded good, but she opted for the coleslaw instead of fries. Maggie would be proud.
After fixing their coffees at the sidebar, Barnes pointed to a table at the back. Cam could tell he was worried. Maybe if his coworkers saw him they’d give him a hard time for chatting it up with a PI. Then she remembered the only one who knew her profession was the officer at the front desk, and he hadn’t been there when they’d walked out the front door. The coffee was strong but smooth.
“You’re right. The coffee is good.”
Barnes smiled. “Coffee and cops. The standard cliché.” He took a gulp before fixing a hard stare on her. “What do you want with Archer?”
“I don’t want anything. There’s someone who’d very much like to meet him.”
Something akin to panic, or maybe anger, made his jaw bunch. “Who’s that?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” She stirred her coffee absently, trying to figure out what it was she did want to say. “But if there’s something about Archer I should know, something that matters to my investigation and my client’s safety, I’d very much like to hear it.”
Barnes looked in his coffee as though trying to decide how to answer her. He looked like he wanted to bolt, or kill someone, and she questioned why. She’d gone with her instinct when she offered him an escape so he wouldn’t be overheard, believing he wanted to talk, and she was happy to be the one he talked to.
“If, and that’s a big if right now, I’m going to tell you, I need more.”
She’d expected as much, and hoped he’d still be willing to share, otherwise why were they there?
“Off the record? I was hired to find Officer Archer, although at the time, I didn’t know his name or what he did for a living.” Cam had always prided herself with keeping her clients’ identities secret, but under the circumstances she wasn’t going to get Barnes’s cooperation without giving him something. “It turns out he has a twin sister who’s looking for him.”
Their food arrived, giving Barnes time to process the news. He looked down at his plate, and when he glanced back up, there was something in his eyes she couldn’t read.
“She’s better off not finding him.” He picked up his sandwich and took a bite.
“Why is that, Officer Barnes?”
He swallowed, then washed it down with coffee. “Jimmy.” He looked around again as the deli began to fill up and leaned forward. “He’s scum hiding behind a badge.” His disgust was apparent as he pushed away the remainder of his lunch. “He dishonors the force. A mockery of his sworn duty.” His face turned red, and Cam knew it was the anger raging inside causing it.
“My client isn’t going to be satisfied by vague answers, Offi—Jimmy. I’ll have to keep asking.”
“It would be safer for both of you if you didn’t do that. If you walked away and told her you couldn’t find him.”
Cam had a talent for getting to the truth, a skill she’d honed since becoming a PI. She loved watching the person she posed questions to think of all the outcomes, or consequences of their answers. Often a person wanted to be rid of the secrets they were hiding, and she provided an outlet. Not to say it always worked. She’d encountered her fair share of uncooperative people. How they thought sooner or later she wouldn’t find what she was looking for never failed to amaze her. She was a damn good investigator. Yes, her ego got big once in a while, but she could live with it considering how often it resulted in success.
“I’m not afraid of finding out the truth.” Cam pushed away her own plate.
“You should be. He’s dangerous to be around. And not just him. His runners are lowlife scum, too.”
She wanted to be sure she hadn’t misinterpreted what Barnes was telling her. “He’s dealing?”
Barnes drained his cup and caught the eye of one of the waitstaff. She came over and refilled both cups before hustling back behind the counter. “Wonder boy is as dirty as they come.”
Shit. Sometimes being right wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She picked up her coffee and sat back to listen.
Chapter Fifteen
Cam spun her pencil on her desk and thought about what she’d learned from Officer Barnes. When she asked why he thought Archer was involved in drugs, he’d shared his personal opinion of the typical rich kid syndrome. Brace had bragged about never having to work for anything as long as he did exactly as his parents said. They wanted him to go to college and get a business degree. He wanted to roam the streets, hang out, do as he pleased. He’d caved under their threat of closing his bank account. He earned a two-year degree in a Florida college and stayed in Miami for a while. Barnes said Archer didn’t elaborate, and he came to his own conclusion that Brace had been learning the business of selling drugs. Brace had said that when he joined the force, there was little his parents could do to stop him, and they accepted his chosen profession, even though he’d done it just to get under their skin. They’d wanted a businessman, not a blue-collar worker. Clearly, he’d done it out of spite and for all the wrong reasons. She dreaded having to share the news with Sarah.
“Hi, Sarah.”
“Hey. Everything okay?”
“Just checking we’re still on for tonight and that seven still works.” It was a solid reason for calling, though she’d done it because she yearned to hear Sarah’s voice.
“I’m looking forward to it. Unless something’s come up on your end?”
Cam didn’t miss the anxiety in Sarah’s voice. “No. I’m good, but I was wondering if we could order in at my place instead of going out. It’s been a long day.”