The Rookie Club Thriller series Box Set

by Danielle Girard

  Cameron thought Rosa was right. Diego was being set up, but it had nothing to do with being Latin. If this wasn’t a setup, why would he come to her for help? Surely he didn’t take her for a total fool. Was she being a fool to believe him?

  Cameron pulled off the South San Francisco exit and went down Sister Cities Boulevard. Cameron wasn’t sure Ricky would be home. If he was, she had some questions for him.

  She drove down Ash Avenue and into the wide driveway of the ranch house Evelyn and Ricky had owned since their move to California.

  The garage was closed and like every house on the block, it was impossible to tell if anyone was home, as the streets were kept clean and car free, drapes neatly closed and a porch light set on a timer to illuminate each front door at precisely dusk.

  Cameron came around the back of the car and opened the door where Nate was. Before she had him out, the front door opened. Evelyn stepped outside. She wore a pair of gray cords and a matching cable knit sweater. If not for the wool slippers on her feet, Cameron would have sworn she was on her way out.

  “What a nice surprise.” She turned back into the house. “Ricky, the girls are here with Nate.”

  Evelyn came out to meet them, peering down at Nate. “I swear, look at how big he is.”

  Cameron was grateful for Evelyn. She would be good at distracting Rosa and Nate, and she could do with some advice from Ricky.

  “You just saw him last Thursday,” Rosa said.

  Evelyn didn’t take her eyes off him. “But he’s grown, I’m telling you. Come on in, I want to hold my little guy.” Evelyn ushered them in. “I was about to put some coffee on,” she said, though Cameron knew Evelyn didn’t drink coffee. “Would you girls like some?”

  “That would be great,” Cameron said.

  “Thank you, Evelyn. Let me help,” Rosa said, taking her jacket off.

  “What brings you down here in the middle of the day?”

  “Someone broke into the house,” Rosa said as Ricky entered the room. He glanced between Evelyn and Cameron. Whatever he had wanted to tell Evelyn, he hadn’t done it yet.

  Cameron set Nate’s car seat on the kitchen floor and stooped down to unfasten him.

  Evelyn didn’t speak. Instead, she crossed the kitchen, arms out. “Let me take that little guy,” she said, then looked at her husband. “Why don’t you and Cameron go out back and talk? I’ll bring some coffee out in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you,” Cameron said, planting a kiss on Nate’s head before handing him over.

  Ricky and Cameron walked to the quiet bedroom that served as Ricky’s office. It always felt a little like a child’s room with its large white table and two chairs, a rocker in one corner.

  Early in Cameron’s own pregnancy, Ricky had told her that Evelyn belonged to a group for women who had lost pregnancies. Evelyn had joined in the eighties after her fourth miscarriage and was a member for nearly thirty years. It was the most Ricky had ever divulged about his marriage, and it gave Cameron the tiniest peek into what made them such a strong couple—years and years of difficulty. Most marriages would have collapsed under that kind of strain.

  Cameron had worried that her own pregnancy might cause resentment for Evelyn, but Ricky’s wife had never been anything but gracious and kind to her and Rosa, and seemed wholly smitten with Nate. More than once she’d called herself Grandma Evelyn.

  Ricky didn’t sit.

  “You owe me an explanation,” she said.

  “I know,” he agreed and sank into the chair opposite hers.

  “And don’t pull the ‘trust me’ shit,” she snapped. “I’m sick of it. Diego, you. I want to know who you told and why.”

  Ricky exhaled. “It wasn’t police business. It was social. Over drinks.”

  “Lavick?”

  “I promise you, it was a mistake and it has nothing to do with what is happening now.” He squeezed her hand. “Can you leave it at that a little longer?”

  She didn’t answer. She’d known Ricky for fifteen years. Her mother and Evelyn had been friends for forty. He was an uncle to her. Or closer. Just like Diego had been her partner. But where did she stop trusting and start demanding answers?

  As though reading her mind, he said, “I know it’s a lot to ask.”

  She blew out her breath. “Fine. But, I’m not letting it go.”

  “I’m not asking you to.” He paused a beat and said, “Tell me about the break-in.”

  “Someone was looking for something.”

  Ricky walked the length of the room slowly. “Did they find it?”

  “No. I got lucky.” She pulled the bag out of her pocket and handed it to him.

  Ricky opened the book and thumbed through it, then whistled. “Be nice to keep this, eh?”

  “It crossed my mind.”

  “Don’t suppose he made this from his undercover job.”

  “I think it was in the bag that he and Benjamin were fighting over.”

  “And he put it in Nate’s name—clever.”

  “No, not clever. Stupid. He’s a stupid son of a bitch if he thinks I’m going to sit back and let him use my kid,” she whispered. And yet she had no idea what to do. She was so torn. Why did she still want to believe him?

  “I doubt it’s as simple as Diego using Nate. I suspect he has some sort of plan.” He passed the book back. “You need to keep this part quiet.” Ricky rubbed his face. “Call the police about the house. Let them print the place and see if they can identify who was there. I’m guessing it wasn’t Diego who tore the place apart.”

  “But, keep the book and drive quiet.”

  “Sure. Do you want me to put them in the safe?”

  There was a knock at the door. “Probably Evelyn with the coffee.”

  But when the door opened it was Rosa. At first, Cameron had wondered if Evelyn had sent her, but she didn’t have coffee. She was holding Cameron’s cell phone. “It’s Jamie Vail,” she said, holding the phone out. “She called three times. I finally answered. She said it’s really important.”

  Cameron took the phone. Facing Ricky, she said, “Cruz here.”

  “Cameron, I’m glad I found you. We found something new at the scene at the ORG Lounge.”

  “Yeah, what’s going on?” she asked Jamie.

  “Hailey Wyatt said I needed to call you with this.”

  Anticipating something bad, Cameron sank into the chair. “Okay.”

  “We linked the girl in the dumpster to ORG’s. A woman who cleans there brought forward a piece of floral fabric—matches the shirt that was in the dumpster with the girl. Crime scene tech found some prints inside.”

  Cameron knew what was coming.

  “They belonged to a dead cop.”

  Cameron was silent. Inside, a million thoughts raced through her mind. A dead immigrant woman and two dead ICE agents.

  “You know who I mean?” Jamie asked.

  “Say it anyway,” Cameron said as evenly as she could manage.

  “Diego Ramirez.”

  Cameron wanted to vomit.

  “I’ve got to go. They’re putting out an APB. You going to be okay?”

  No. Not ever. “Yeah, Jamie. I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

  Chapter 25

  Cameron paced the kitchen floor, trying to ignore the police presence in every room. Already, she was questioning her own loyalty. From Ricky’s, she’d rushed home to bury the book and the jump drive out by Rosa’s tomato plants before the police arrived. Then, she proceeded to wipe her hands over every place she imagined Diego might have touched: the front door, Nate’s door, the changing table and the wipes container.

  Best case, Rosa was right, and they were saving his ass from some massive setup. Worst case, she was hindering a police investigation, assisting a fugitive, and putting herself, Rosa, and Nate in danger. The shooting she’d seen. She didn’t know how to explain that away. Even if Ray Benjamin was guilty, she wished to heaven Diego had put a slug in his leg instead. Did he have to kill him? But Di
ego wasn’t the shot she was. And surely he was panicked. It didn’t seem like he had gone in expecting a fight. His gun wasn’t drawn although he was wearing his vest.

  Either way, she did not want the police to find Diego’s prints. If he were smart, he’d have worn gloves. It was his smarts that were under question right now. Since she couldn’t ask him, she made certain that her own prints were the only ones the police would find in those places.

  The crime scene team had spent almost two hours fingerprinting and collecting evidence while Rosa worked to clean on their trail. Between the three officers and Rosa, the house felt like a city bus. And the noise. The clatter of broken dishes being swept away and the vroom of the vacuum running up and down the halls was enough to put her over the edge.

  Thankfully, Nate was napping at Señora Accosta’s house. Cameron had stayed in case there were questions. But, she had no answers. Nothing was missing. She was pretty sure they were looking for the bankbook and the drive, but she wasn’t sharing that information with anyone until she knew what was on it. She texted Sydney at the crime scene lab again. Then, impatient, she left her a voicemail. She needed someone who could break into the files on the jump drive.

  She had already told a pair of uniformed cops what she’d told the fake detectives, but there was no way of knowing if this was news to the department or not. Of course, the officers they sent knew nothing about the previous events. It was unlikely an inspector would show up to a B&E with no injuries and no missing property.

  The only thing that made the scene unusual was the number of people. A case like this would normally warrant five or ten minutes with a couple of uniforms. No crime scene techs. Not without something missing. And even then, there seemed to be too many uniformed officers for the job. Two black and whites were parked on the curb outside the house and another one at each end of the block. Plus, the crime scene van. Did they know something she didn’t?

  Twice she went out to talk to the uniforms, but they weren’t saying anything. Ricky was supposed to come by, but she was ready to leave. Giving up on the wait, Cameron went inside and found Rosa vacuuming under Nate’s changing table. She shut off the vacuum cleaner and wiped a strand of hair out of her face.

  “I need to get out of here. I can do that later.”

  Rosa waved her hand. “It clears my head. I need it. Why are there so many cops outside? There’s one on the block behind us, too?” Rosa pointed to the window and Cameron joined her. Another black and white was parked on the next block down, just visible to one side of the neighbor’s house and through the branches of a budding maple tree.

  “I have no idea,” Cameron said honestly.

  “The time Elaina got robbed, it took four days to get someone to come down so she could file a police report for insurance.”

  Cameron thought about it. “Maybe they think he’s coming back. Maybe you should leave, too.”

  “Hell, no. I want to be here if he comes back. Did you see what he did to my avocado tree? Killed it. Pulled it out by the trunk. Plus, there is dirt everywhere in there.” Rosa pulled the vacuum cord from the wall and wound it on the back of the machine. “All those police—that’s not normal. There’s something going on that we don’t know about.” She studied Cameron. “Unless you are holding out on me.”

  Cameron raised her hands. “I swear.”

  “Fine, then. Go on and get out. We need eggs because that bastard broke all of ours.”

  “I’ll stop at Yee’s. Anything else?”

  “Maybe a little bar of something dark chocolate.” Rosa put her hands on her hips as though expecting a fight. “It’s been a stressful day.”

  “I’ll get wine, too.”

  “Good girl.” Cameron pocketed her phone and grabbed the canvas grocery bag off the hook by the front door, then walked outside. No one stopped her. Her house was a crime scene and she was a cop, but it wasn’t her scene and in this case, she wasn’t a cop—not in the way that counted. It was no longer within her control. All those aspects combined to make her feel ready to crawl out of her skin.

  She zipped her jacket against the cold wind of the clear day and waved at the two patrol cops as she passed.

  For them, it was easy work. Today was the perfect day to be parked on the curb. The temperature was maybe sixty, cool enough to be comfortable in bulletproofing and heavy belts. The cool air acted like the oxygen pumped into casinos in Vegas—it made the cops more alert, more on guard. It made the crooks and the idiots feel cocky.

  Two blocks from the house, Cameron stopped on the corner and peered out at the park where she and Diego had spent dozens of afternoons. She hesitated, unsure where to go next. She was in no rush to get to Yee’s Market, the little convenience store they frequented for milk or eggs, or a late night ice cream treat. It was an errand she could do in ten minutes or less. One, in fact, she did at least three times a week in that much time. What she wanted now was something that would take an hour. Her life, especially over the past year, was always filled with plans. Between work and Nate, there was no time for frolicking.

  Standing on the corner, she had absolutely no idea where to go. She stood for a good two minutes, scanning right and left, like a kid crossing the street for the first time alone. And then, as though she really wasn’t up to the challenge, she continued down the block to Yee’s Market.

  She wandered in and waved hello to Mrs. Yee, who smiled but didn’t speak. Mrs. Yee spoke English. Cameron had listened to her on the phone once and while it wasn’t grammatically perfect, what bit of the conversation she’d heard had certainly made sense to Cameron. But she had never spoken to Cameron. Not so much as a word. She pointed to the register for the total, waved and smiled. That was it.

  Cameron walked to the back of the store and scanned the row of red wines. She chose a pinot noir priced at ten dollars, which meant it wouldn’t be great, but shouldn’t be awful. The label was vaguely familiar, so she put it in her bag and slid open the Coke refrigerator. She selected a bottle of pink lemonade Snapple, before switching it for yellow. Maybe she’d go sit in the park for a while. The first thing that registered as she held the cold bottle was that Diego loved lemonade. Maybe he still did.

  She cradled the lemonade and walked down the aisle where the Yees sold repackaged muffins from Costco. She chose a lemon poppy seed, then found a Dove chocolate bar for Rosa. She got to the counter and remembered the eggs. It wasn’t as though she was in a hurry. In fact, nothing was less appealing than being ushered in and out of the rooms of her house like a stranger.

  “One second,” she told Mrs. Yee, who again nodded and waved.

  She walked to the corner where the eggs were, searching for the brown ones Rosa always bought when she sensed someone move in beside her.

  “Is Nate okay?”

  Cameron jumped at the sight of Diego beside her.

  She grabbed for something to hold onto and gripped a metal rack lined with little packets of Hostess donuts. Something jagged cut into her. She grimaced, glancing quickly at her finger, which was bleeding.

  “Nate,” Diego repeated.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s on the police scanners,” he went on. “The B&E, a child kidnapped. An officer’s child.”

  “We weren’t there.”

  Diego stepped backward. “Nathaniel’s okay?”

  “He’s fine. Asleep at the nanny’s house. How did you find me?”

  “I saw you walk in. I was in a cab. Shit. It’s a setup.” Diego took her shoulders. “Are you helping them?” Urgency bit into her skin along with his fingers.

  “Of course not. I had no idea. Diego, what’s the password to the jump drive? I can’t open it.”

  He looked around. “I can’t unlock it either. But it must be something good, because they want it back.” He faced her. “Do you still have the DVD?”

  “What DVD?”

  “I wrote on the last page of the book—under the deck.”

  “Under my deck?”


  “There’s not much time, Cameron.” He took her arm again. “Where’s the setup? Who’s involved?”

  Her head was spinning. It was too much. She needed time. She glanced toward the back of the store, then the front. There was nowhere to go. “I don’t know,” she said quickly. “Supposedly they are processing the scene. Someone broke in this morning.”

  “What did they take?”

  “Nothing. But, they tore the place apart.”

  She thought about all the cars. “There are four or five black and whites around the house. Two in front, one at either end of the block and one on the street behind. There may be more. All patrol guys. I haven’t seen anyone in charge.”

  Mrs. Yee watched them intently, getting every word, Cameron was sure. She stepped away and lowered her voice. “They’ve tied you to a truck full of women, Diego, and now a dead girl in a dumpster. Everything points to your guilt. What the hell do you want me to think?”

  Diego flinched. “You can’t trust any of it.”

  “You died on me with no explanation. Then, I see you kill Ray Benjamin. A cop,” she said. “How can I believe you?”

  Diego pulled her close. The rapid beat of his heart pulsed against her ribs. The chest she’d slept against so many nights.

  She exhaled against him.

  “It’s me,” he said. “It’s still me.”

  She was sucked in. She believed him. “Then, help me out, Diego. Tell me where I can get some proof.”

  “Watch the DVD. See if you can get the information off that drive.” He gripped her harder. “But don’t let them out of your possession.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it.” She tried to pull away. “You better go.”

  He didn’t release her. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I did what I had to do after the explosion.”

  “They say they have your teeth. That they used dental records to prove you died in that explosion.”

  That made him smile. All the teeth still in his mouth. “I love you, Cameron.” The pleasure vanished. “But, if I can’t figure this thing out—what Benjamin and Axsater were doing, who else is involved, how high it goes…” He shook his head. “…I can’t come back.”