Reunited with the P.I. Page 8

  “She doesn’t go off without telling anyone,” Gale added. “Have you tried her parents? Or her brother? He’s living in...um...” She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the phone against her forehead. “Los Angeles, I think? Maybe she drove down to see him? I’m sorry. My brain’s gone all fuzzy. What if something’s happened to her?”

  “We’re not jumping to any conclusions yet.” Vince urged her back to her chair. “Can you tell us if she has any special jewelry she wears? Anything she wouldn’t have left behind?”

  “There’s a cross.” Gale tapped the hollow of her throat. “A small one her mother gave her years ago. Other than exchanging the chain, she’s never taken it off.”

  “How long have you known her?” Simone asked.

  “A year maybe? We met at a coffeehouse right after I found out I was pregnant with Sophie. She’d just started her new job and we got to talking. We hit it off, you know?”

  Simone nodded. She knew all too well.

  Gale gestured toward the hallway. “My husband travels a lot so Mara’s been my backup. This case she was testifying in, she told me it wasn’t any big deal, that she’d be finished in no time. That wasn’t true, was it?”

  “Not really, no,” Simone said. “She was my main witness in the Paul Denton case.”

  “Denton.” Gale frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t pay much attention to the news these days. Everything’s animated or education-related.”

  “It’s a case that could have far-reaching implications.” She didn’t want to worry Gale any more than they already had. Not when she knew what it was like to be concerned for a friend’s well-being. “Would you do us a favor and let us know when you hear from her?”

  “Yes, of course. And you’ll do the same?”

  Vince got to his feet and stood next to Simone. “Absolutely. We appreciate your time, Mrs. Alders.”

  Simone was shivering before they’d returned to the car. She wasn’t giving up, not yet. Not until she knew for certain. “Now what?”

  “What do you think we should do?” Vince reached over, about to flip on the AC, looked at her, then shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her. “You always get cold when you’re scared.”

  “I’m not scared.” She was petrified, but she couldn’t surrender.

  “And if I said the sky was blue?”

  “I’d say it’s pink. I’m at a loss here, Vince. My brain says call out the National Guard, but we can’t do that.”

  “Not without exposing this to the media, no. I’m going to drive you back to your car and you’re going to go home.”

  “What? No, there’s nothing I can do—”

  “There’s something you have to do and you know it. You need to rebuild your case against Denton if we don’t find Mara in time. Find a way to get her evidence admitted without your star witness.”

  “Right. You’re right.” Simone nodded, hating that he was able to detach from reality, do what was necessary. “I need to concentrate. Regroup. You’ll keep me up to date on everything you’re doing?”

  Vince nodded as he started the car. “I’ll report in as soon as I have something. I promise. Focus on your work, Simone. It’s what you do best and right now, it’s the only thing you can do for Mara.”

  * * *

  “You didn’t have to walk me to my car,” Simone told him once they were back in Sacramento and heading down P Street.

  “Humor me. Besides, I want another look at Mara’s apartment.” A quieter look. A solitary look. Given everything Vince had learned about the young woman, no, she wasn’t one to disappear on a whim. Nor was she someone who wouldn’t have made contingency plans should something have gone wrong.

  And something obviously had.

  “You can’t break in again.” Simone’s eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t have to.” He pulled out the key he’d stashed in his pocket this morning. “Found this in a box on her desk. It’s a spare.”

  “You always did have an interesting relationship with semantics.”

  At least he’d made her smile. All the bad stuff between them, the years, the resentment, the anger, he’d gladly let all that go if it meant protecting her from what he feared was coming.

  “My car’s right there. You can go on—hang on. What’s this?” She pulled a large manila envelope from under her wiper.

  “Secret admirer?” Vince teased. “Maybe Jack left you a memento of your time together.”

  She flipped the envelope open. “You know if I put you two in a cage match he’d kick your butt.”

  He’d never been so tempted to snort in his life. Then again, he knew better than to challenge a man in love. He stepped off the curb but turned when he heard her sharp intake of breath. “What’s wrong?” The color had drained from her face. Her hands trembled around the envelope’s contents. “Simone, what is it?”

  She shoved whatever it was back inside and shook her head, her lips pressed so tightly together they disappeared. “Nothing. It’s another case. Another...it’s nothing.” She waved him off and pressed her key fob to unlock her door. “I’ll wait to hear from you if you find anything in Mara’s apartment, okay?”

  He stayed where he was as she threw her bag and envelope into the car, started the engine and pulled out sharply enough to leave skid marks. Who was she kidding, another case? She’d made it perfectly clear since she’d shown up at his bar that the Denton case had her complete attention. She was lying to him. The question was about what? And why?

  Chapter 7

  Vince stood outside the glass door that led into the major crimes division. His blood pounded so hard through his veins he was afraid he might burst a vessel. The last eighteen months threatened to drive him back to his car. He’d always prided himself on being true to his word, especially when it came to promises he’d made to himself. Clearly, not stepping foot in a police department was going to be one he couldn’t keep. Then again, cracks had formed in a lot of promises the second Simone had strolled back into his life.

  He should have known his snowball of good intentions would only pick up speed and threaten to wipe out his senses.

  At least this time wouldn’t end with him in jail for assault while two parents were forced to identify the body of their dead teenager. An image of Mara Orlov’s smiling face and green eyes came to mind and momentarily, at least, erased the memory of Sabrina Walker.

  “Sutton?” Jack McTavish sidled up beside him, a large take-out bag in one hand.

  Vince caught the wariness in the detective’s face, but the shell-shocked expression had vanished. Maybe he’d been wrong about the cop’s feelings for his ex-wife. Maybe he’d just been projecting his own. Vince needed to remind himself why he was really here, instead of dwelling on Simone’s social life, which, after all, had nothing to do with him.

  “What brings you here?” Jack asked. “And where’s your partner in crime? If it’s about any lab results—”

  Vince held up a hand. “I know how long lab results take. I went back to Mara’s apartment. Took another look around.”

  Jack’s face went like stone. “You’ve got to be kidding me. So, what? You’re here to turn yourself in? Please, make my day and let me arrest you for something.”

  “I’m here with a peace offering.” He glanced around at the throng of uniformed deputies milling about, heading to the elevator, the staircase or banging on the uncooperative soda machine at the end of the hall. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  After a brief hesitation, Jack sighed. “Yeah, sure. Come on back. You eat yet?”

  “No.” He’d planned to fix something when he got back to the bar to check on his manager and staff. Yet again he found himself following the detective, this time around desks and chairs into a room filled with uneven tables, an oversize refrigerator and an abundance of c
offeemakers. Coffee, even cop coffee, would really hit the spot about now. “You mind?”

  “Help yourself,” Jack said. “There’s an extra burger in the bag if you want. I keep forgetting my partner’s still on vacation.”

  “Honeymoon, right?” Vince sorted through the stacks of mugs for the biggest one then filled it to the brim. “I’m having a bit of trouble wrapping my mind around Eden getting married.” In all his life he’d never met a more independent, opinionated, yet devoted friend in his life. The connection Simone had with Eden and Allie had done a lot to redeem his faith in human beings.

  “Not as much as I’m having accepting the fact she’s going to be working with us.”

  Vince swallowed fast, the scalding coffee burning his throat. He coughed and covered his mouth, eyes watering. “What?”

  Jack grinned as he sat down and emptied his bag. “Simone didn’t tell you about that?”

  “Must have slipped her mind.” He set his mug down and joined the detective. “Eden working with cops? Yeah, that’ll take some processing. And here. Before I change my mind.” He pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and set it on the table. “I found this in one of the origami lotus flowers in her keepsake cabinet.” One of the cleverer hiding places he’d come across. The more he looked into Mara, the more that didn’t add up.

  Jack unwrapped his burger, exposing the trademark cheese collar oozing out of the bun. He cast a wary eye to the device. “I assume you know what’s on it?”

  “Among other things? Her personal journal,” Vince told him. “I skimmed through most of it. Plug it in and it takes you to a password-secured server. All those innocuous sites you found on her laptop? I’m guessing that was camouflage. This girl isn’t some computer novice.”

  “Let me guess. You were a hacker in a past life.”

  “I know enough to get by.” Employing a few technologically gifted individuals at the bar kept him in the game. Travis had been thrilled to show off his skills, skills Vince had been able to utilize. “Mara’s password is Sophie2086. Her best friend’s daughter and their address.” The way his stomach growled reminded him he’d skipped breakfast so he began to eat. “Simone and I spoke with Gale Alders a few hours ago.”

  “Did she have any idea where her friend might have disappeared to?”

  “No. In fact, she confirmed what Simone already suspected. Mara’s not one to take off. And you and I have been around long enough to know this isn’t going to end well, Jack.” It felt like a relief being able to say out loud what he’d only hinted at with Simone.

  Jack flinched. “Chances are it’s going to destroy whatever case the DA has against Denton. How convenient for Ward.”

  “Is it?” Vince wasn’t so sure. “Given what I’ve read, Denton doesn’t strike me as the type to pull off something as daring as this. He’s a numbers guy. Behind the scenes and if anything, he’s probably being downgraded as a liability to whomever he’s working for. Simone’s shared her theory with you, I take it?”

  “That she suspects he’s a small cog in a bigger machine?” Jack nodded, wiped his mouth and went to get his own coffee. “Yeah, she’s convinced Denton’s the tipping point of some massive criminal enterprise. One of the reasons we’re keeping him on his own in custody.”

  “You ever know Simone to be wrong about something like that?”

  “No.”

  “I’m guessing the idea that she’s using Denton as some kind of bait to go after the big fish sits as well with you as it does with me.”

  Jack hesitated. “I haven’t known her as long as you have—”

  “I haven’t known her at all for the last couple of years,” Vince reminded him. “She’s still the same Simone in a lot of ways. But in others?” He couldn’t explain it. He’d been knocked for a loop when he’d first met Simone; there had been that tilting-the-world-off-its-axis attraction that made everyone who came before fade into the shadows. The Simone who’d walked into his bar last night? That Simone was deeper, edgier. Definitely more intriguing.

  The tight smile Jack offered was clear to Vince. He didn’t need a translator to understand that the guy was telling him to tread carefully. Jack spoke softly, “All I’ll say is, Vince, if you hurt her again, we’re going to have a problem. Not that that makes any difference with respect to the case.”

  As if what Vince wanted when it came to Simone had ever made a difference. “She’s asked for my help, Jack. There’s nothing more than a business agreement between us.”

  “And, I might have accepted that if I hadn’t gotten the ‘you’re a good friend’ talk this morning. So this flash drive is really a peace offering?” He veered back on topic with the talent of a seasoned cop.

  “Add it to whatever other information you’ll be getting down the road. That said—” Vince finished his burger, wadded up the paper and leaned his arms on the table “—I do have a question for you.”

  “Figured as much.” Jack waved his fingers. “Let’s have it.”

  “What other case is Simone working on?”

  “Other case?” Jack suddenly focused on anything other than Vince. He seemed particularly interested in a napkin under his coffee mug. “Nothing that I know of. Why?”

  “When I dropped her at her car, someone had left a large envelope on her windshield. I didn’t see what was inside, but whatever it was freaked her out. Scared her.” He didn’t even have to ask his next question to know he’d hit on something. Jack’s eyes had gone pinprick-intense. “What?”

  “I ran a background check on you when I got to the office,” Jack said. “I wanted to know who she was working with. Besides you being her ex.”

  “I would have done the same,” Vince assured him. “You could have asked me and saved yourself the time. I don’t have anything to hide.”

  “Also talked to a few cops you worked with. And the two who arrested you.”

  The burger churned in his stomach. “I’m sure they gave you an earful.”

  “They told me you went crazy on a kidnapping and murder suspect from the Bay Area. Broke his jaw, six ribs, ruptured his eye socket.”

  Vince flexed his hand as the ghostly pain of slamming his fist into the monster’s face vibrated up his arm. He could still feel the blood slipping through his fingers, could still see the mutilated body of sixteen-year-old Sabrina Walker lying in the corner of an abandoned warehouse. “Don’t forget the bruised kidney and concussion.”

  “Must have been tough when the case went sideways.”

  Anger simmered in his gut, swirling around the lunch he regretted eating. “Your point?”

  “I need to know you’ve got the right frame of mind for this. I need to know you aren’t going to lose control when it all comes to a head.”

  “I wouldn’t have taken the case if I thought otherwise,” Vince lied. The last thing he needed was to admit Jack McTavish was right to be concerned. That anger, that rage, it wasn’t buried as deeply as Vince wanted. It never would be. But if it meant helping to get his brother out of prison, he’d take the risk. “What isn’t she telling me?”

  Jack swore, leaned over and looked out the open door of the break room. Vince glanced back and saw a dark-haired, compact man standing by a glass-walled office, whom he recognized as the department’s lieutenant. Santos?

  “You know about Chloe Evans, right?” Jack asked.

  “The girls’ friend who was murdered when they were nine? Yeah, some.” He hadn’t heard a lot of it from Simone as it wasn’t a topic of conversation she delved into very often, but he’d done his own digging. “The four of them were camping in Simone’s backyard. Chloe got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and never came back.” No matter how long he worked this job, or how many horrific things he’d seen during his military service, he was always affected by how the murder of a child never ceased to haunt th
ose connected to the victim. “They found her body in a field a few days later. Strangled, I think. The killer was never caught.” The latter fact was explanation enough as to why Simone lived her life—did her job—the way she did.

  “He’s resurfaced. Chloe’s killer,” Jack added as if he needed to explain. “It happened during the Iceman case, when Eden got caught up in all that. It started with notes, flowers and mementos of that weekend. Eden, Allie, Simone, they’ve all received something. He was likely behind a federal agent getting shot as well.”

  “Could be a coincidence,” Vince argued, but that same prickly feeling he got when he’d read up on Mara’s case resurfaced. “Unsolved cases bring out the conspiracy theorists and obsessives.”

  “That’s what we thought until a package was sent to the former detective on the case. Since he died last year, his wife turned it over to us.”

  Vince waited, feeling as if an anvil was about to drop on his head.

  “It contained Chloe’s missing tennis shoe. One of those details about the case that was withheld from the press,” Jack said. “He’s back.”

  “Back? Back how?” The abject fear Vince had seen on Simone’s face earlier made sense. “Why wouldn’t she have told me?”

  “Simone? Are you kidding? She barely talked to me about the case. She won’t talk to anyone, really, not even Eden or Allie.”

  “And I let her go off on her own. You’re saying they’re being stalked? All of them?”

  “I’m not saying anything officially,” Jack said. “Because I can’t. I also can’t tell you that the Chloe Evans murder investigation has been reopened and we’re trying to keep that out of the media for as long as possible. It’s been weeks since we’d heard anything new from him. But if what you’re saying pans out and Simone did receive—”

  “I’ll find out what it was.” He should have known Simone wouldn’t be willing to confide in him about something as personal as Chloe’s murder, but he wouldn’t have expected she’d put herself in danger. Which was exactly what she’d done by leaving him out of the loop. She knew how he felt about being blindsided. “Tell me she’s not the most stubborn person you’ve ever met,” Vince muttered.