“We’ll do our best, sir,” she said.
After the chief left, Sam glanced down at his plate. He’d cleaned it, consuming far more than he’d intended. Nora, on the other hand, had left quite a bit of her meal.
“Don’t worry, it won’t go to waste,” she told him. “I’ll take it home for a bedtime snack.”
He had a mental flash of her in a semitransparent nightgown, curled on a bed, sliding a French fry between those full, sexy lips. And quashed the thought fast.
The waitress, accustomed to emergency personnel, provided separate checks. Sam grabbed his. “I’ll meet you by the cashier.” He saw no point in hanging around and risking another argument. If he hadn’t been foolish enough to ride here in her car, he’d have left.
“Suits me.” Nora asked the waitress for a take-out box, then settled down to wait.
Feeling unaccountably grumpy, Sam strolled across the room. A group of off-duty firefighters lounging at the bar gave him knowing grins.
“Man, I never saw a chick get to you like that,” teased firehouse mechanic Bud Patchett. “What gives?”
“Turns out a few of our cases overlap,” he said. “We had a little disagreement about who’s in charge.”
Bud quirked an eyebrow. “Well, if I were you, I’d stay on her good side. That’s a sweet little car she drives. I wouldn’t mind working under that hood.”
“Nobody’s going to work under anybody’s hood,” Sam muttered, surprised at the flicker of distaste he felt at the idea of Bud or anyone else putting the moves on Nora.
“Hey, man, just making conversation.” The mechanic downed a swallow of beer. “Lighten up.”
“Sorry.” He broke off as Nora, take-out box in hand, approached.
They drove back to the crime scene in silence. That seemed like a good start to Sam.
CHAPTER THREE
SHORTLY AFTER EIGHT O’CLOCK, as the June twilight faded, Nora let herself into her apartment about half a mile south of the police station. Her parents had been urging her to invest in a house, but with this kind of work schedule, how could she find the time?
Besides, Nora couldn’t possibly run a place of her own when, in four years, she hadn’t even managed to decorate a rental decently. The no-frills furniture she’d hurriedly bought at an outlet store would probably still be here twenty years from now, she reflected glumly.
She’d made a haphazard attempt at brightening the place with a multipronged, multicolored lamp that cried out for a high-tech décor, and then hadn’t been able to resist the traditional seascape that dominated one wall. Despite a bookcase full of reference volumes, the coffee table overflowed with paperbacks, many of which had bookmarks semipermanently inserted in the pages.
Well, so what? Nora liked a casual environment. Sam, on the other hand, probably lived in a place straight out of an architectural magazine.
She could still see his face just before they’d parted. There’d been a black smear on one temple where he’d accidentally brushed his face while working outside. They’d both filled Grant in on their latest findings, then avoided making eye contact as they left the Sleepyhead. With luck, that would be the last time they had to scrutinize the same crime scene.
Still, Sam’s steady manner, devoid of the anger he’d shown at dinner, had had a calming effect on Nora. She regretted now that she’d hurled the word plodding at him. He really did a good job, although not, she reminded herself, any better than she did. If only his personality weren’t so unbending!
She felt dusty and drained, and the minutiae of the investigation—shards of glass, blood spatter, debris fragments, the blast pattern—filled her mind. She needed a dip in the complex’s spa to wash it all away, Sam’s memory as well as the dirt that had sifted through her protective clothing
After sticking her leftover pastrami sandwich in the refrigerator, Nora changed into a swimsuit. She chose a retro 1940s-style one-piece with white polka dots against navy fabric.
What did Sam Prophet look like in swim trunks? she wondered as she slid her feet into thong sandals. All hard muscles, judging from what she’d seen of him with clothes on. She wondered if he had scars on his back to match the marks he’d accumulated on his arms, and whether his deep tan went all the way down to…well, to…
Now, why was she trying to picture Sam in the buff?
Her brothers used to comment that Nora got bored with guys who threw themselves at her. Maybe that explained why she couldn’t stop thinking about the most contrary man she’d ever met.
The way he’d blown up at her over dinner had been downright embarrassing. And it had to be her boss who’d observed them! She didn’t care what kind of impression he made in swim trunks or how far down his tan descended. Sam didn’t interest her on a personal level.
Annoyingly, however, he dogged her thoughts all the way out to the spa. She kept imagining clever ripostes she might have made and arguments that would have put him in his place, until the sight of steam rising into the cool of evening finally restored her to the present.
A young couple sat on the underwater bench, leaning together with eyes half-closed, lost in each other. The only other occupant was Elaine Warner, a fifth-grade teacher who lived a couple of doors down and with whom Nora had gone to the movies a few times. A cute brunette with short, curly hair, she qualified as an ideal neighbor: friendly but never nosy.
The two women greeted each other as Nora lowered herself into the heated pool. Jets swirled the water noisily around them, precluding conversation.
Blissfully, Nora sank back and escaped from the worries of the day. Her mind drifted to fragments from recent TV shows, snatches of gossip at the PD, Sam planted in front of the motel cabin glowering at her…She had no idea how much time passed before the couple left and Elaine switched off the power.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I thought it might be nice to have silence under the stars. Much as I love kids, the noise level in the classroom gets to me once in a while. Sometimes I like to just sit and listen to the night.”
“I’d like that, too.” Nora let the stillness seep through her. Leaning her head back, she gazed up into the darkening sky.
From nearby came the rumble of a passing car. A small plane buzzed overhead. The mellow music of a Yanni album drifted from an apartment window, and somewhere a cat yowled for attention or, maybe, love.
Elaine broke the silence. “I guess I wouldn’t mind some adult conversation,” she said ruefully. “That is, if you’re in the mood.”
“Sure.” Nora could only take so much silence before she, too, got restless. “Just as long as we don’t discuss police business. I’ve had enough of that for one day!”
“That must be tough,” her neighbor sympathized. “I’m sorry I complained about the kids. I’m sure my problems pale compared to what you go through.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, but it can be exhausting.” Arms draped over the lip of the pool, Nora let her hips and legs float. “I have to admit I like solving mysteries for fun and profit. But speaking of Prophet reminds me of a guy I had to work with by that name. Dealing with him was the toughest part of the day.”
“Sam Prophet?” Elaine asked. “I thought he worked in the fire department. Isn’t he an arson investigator?”
Nora hadn’t expected the name to ring a bell. “Yes, but our specialties overlap. Arson is a crime, after all.” Unable to restrain her curiosity, she added, “How do you know him?”
Elaine’s nose crinkled. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say he gets on my nerves, too.”
Nora knew she ought to let it go. If Sam rubbed other people the wrong way, what difference did it make to her?
On the other hand, she might have to interact with the guy again and it would help if she gained some insight. She decided to take a chance. “I don’t want to pry, but he drove me crazy today and I’m afraid the same thing will happen again. Is there anything you can tell me about him that might help?”
Elaine o
nly hesitated for a moment. “I’m not sure it will do any good, but I’ll tell you my experience,” she said. “A year ago, I couldn’t mention his name without wanting to throw things, but I got over it.”
“You mean there’s hope?”
“Excuse me?”
“Maybe in a year I won’t want to throw things when I hear his name, either,” Nora joked.
Her neighbor laughed. “I suppose I might as well tell you the whole miserable tale. At least you’ll be forewarned.”
“Forewarned about what?” Nora sat up, bringing her full attention to bear.
“About a year ago, I made the mistake of falling for the guy.” Elaine grimaced. “His sister introduced us—she teaches first grade at my school—and I was thrilled when he asked me out. Well, he is good-looking, as you probably couldn’t help noticing.”
“I suppose so, in a purely objective sense.” The image of Sam dating this attractive young woman made Nora uncomfortable, although she certainly didn’t assume the man to be a hermit. “What happened?”
“Over the next few months, we started getting serious. At least, it seemed serious to me. We went out every weekend.” Elaine sighed. “He acted so kind and gentle, so understanding—I was crazy about the guy.”
Nora couldn’t picture Sam deserving that description. “Kind and gentle? He practically bit my head off tonight at dinner.” To forestall the implication that they’d been on a date, she added, “We were discussing a case and, well, let’s just say tempers flared.”
“Sam has a temper?” Elaine seemed genuinely surprised.
“A temper? That’s an understatement. He jumped to his feet and shouted at me across the table.” Honesty made Nora add, “Of course, I did the same thing to him. I’m sorry. Please finish your story.”
“That’s interesting. I never saw that side of him.” Her neighbor considered for a moment before picking up the thread. “I felt like things were developing between us, so I invited him to drive to San Luis Obispo with me for the Fourth of July. It’s a special event and I wanted my family to get to know him.”
“It sounds like you were paying him a compliment.” Nora hadn’t introduced a man to her family since breaking off her engagement.
“Exactly,” Elaine said. “I’d praised him to everyone and they were eager to meet him. But he obviously didn’t feel the same way.”
“What did he say?”
“It wasn’t so much his words as the way he reacted,” she explained. “When I invited him, his forehead puckered and I could feel him pulling away. He said he might have to work on the Fourth of July and that he’d get back to me. Something seemed wrong. I knew it wasn’t simply about his job.”
A pang of conscience pricked Nora as it occurred to her that perhaps she shouldn’t be listening to such intimate details about Sam’s past. She didn’t worry too much about it, though. After all, she’d gotten the distinct impression he’d been discussing her with Bud Patchett at the bar earlier.
“I didn’t hear from him for a couple of days,” Elaine continued. “Then one night he dropped by. He had the courtesy to do it in person, I’ll give him that.”
“Do what in person?”
“Dump me.” She made a wry face. “He decided we’d gone too far too fast. Oh, he made some noises about remaining friends, but he wanted out. I felt as if I’d been sucker punched. I couldn’t even answer him. Finally he left, and I never heard from him again.”
“That was cruel.” For all her negative impressions of Sam, Nora had never heard that he had a reputation as a hit-and-run artist.
“You’re not kidding. I still don’t understand what happened.” Exasperation laced her words. “For weeks I worried about what I might have done wrong or whether he’d heard some gossip about me. Mary—that’s his sister—tried to find out, but he just mumbled some generalities to her, too.”
“Do you think he was just leading you on?” Nora asked.
“Angry as I got, I never believed that,” Elaine said. “Sam’s not a jerk. In some ways, I still like and respect him. Maybe he got scared of making himself too vulnerable. Who knows?”
She turned as the metal gate to the spa area scraped open, admitting a woman and three young children hauling water toys. “Looks like we’re getting company. I think I’ll head inside.”
Nora was in no mood to be surrounded by a lot of splashing, either. “Thanks for leveling with me.”
“It’s the least I can do,” the teacher said. “I figure knowledge is power.”
“I appreciate it.” As the youngsters clambered in around them, the two women separated amiably.
Strolling back to her apartment with a towel slung over one shoulder, Nora wondered what on earth had been going through Sam’s mind. The man was in his mid-thirties, more than old enough to get serious, and he must have liked Elaine to go out with her for so long. Why had he ducked and headed for cover?
Len, the L.A. police sergeant she’d nearly married, had been the opposite: eager to commit. They’d met when he came to address one of her criminal justice classes at California State University, Los Angeles. Nora had enjoyed his quick mind and no-nonsense way of looking at the world, and hadn’t minded that he was nearly ten years older than she.
He’d talked her out of her plan to enlist with the hope of becoming a Navy SEAL and encouraged her instead to apply to the police department after graduation. When she did, however, she made an unpleasant discovery. Len hadn’t expected her to make it through the police academy and succeed as an officer.
His plan had been to pretend to care about her career and then, when she failed, to steer her into a less demanding field so she could focus her energy on stroking his ego. Apparently he’d been attracted more by her youthful admiration and naiveté than by her abilities and courage.
After she joined the force, it seemed the harder she worked, the more critical he became. For a while, she’d believed the problem must rest with her, and had redoubled her efforts to please him. It had been her family, seeing her uncharacteristic self-doubt and increasing stress level, who’d asked the pointed questions that helped set her straight.
She didn’t know which experience had been worse, hers or Elaine’s. Elaine’s, probably, Nora decided, because at least she’d benefited in one respect: Len had steered her away from a military career that she’d later determined wouldn’t have suited her independent nature.
Elaine, on the other hand, had lost her heart to a guy who didn’t deserve it. Or who, at the very least, was incapable of making her happy.
Independence was the key, Nora thought as she slipped into her apartment. She liked running her own show. Maybe someday she’d find the perfect guy, but she didn’t intend to hold her breath.
Humming, she went to change, and realized she’d developed an appetite. Thank goodness she had the leftover pastrami sandwich for a snack. Cooking had never been Nora’s favorite activity, and besides, she couldn’t wait to start reviewing her notes from today.
MAX ZIRINSKY KNOCKED on the open door of Nora’s office and entered without waiting for a reply. The police chief’s wary expression immediately alerted her that she might not like what he intended to say.
Don’t tell me you’re giving the case to Sam! She bit down on the response. Running the police department was Max’s job, not hers.
“How’s it going this morning?” he asked.
Nora indicated the stacks of files on her desk. “I just got my hands on the records from the other murders you mentioned, the ones attributed to the Avenger. I haven’t had time to review them yet.”
Although murders not involving explosives lay outside her purview as bomb squad specialist, Max’s mention of them had stirred Nora’s curiosity. Besides, if the same person did prove to be both the Avenger and the Trigger, her familiarity with the bomb-related cases might help her spot similarities.
“Well, don’t worry about those just yet.”
“Really?” This seemed like a bad sign.
&
nbsp; “Dan Egan and I decided on how we want these Trigger cases handled.” Max leaned against the edge of her desk. A tall man with black air and green eyes, he remained strikingly handsome in his midforties, although Nora had never felt any sparks between them. One of these days he was going to make a terrific match for someone else, though.
Feigning nonchalance, she widened her eyes to indicate interest while bracing herself. Of course one of the detectives, probably Grant, would take the lead, with Sam to assist him, she reflected unhappily.
“I know this is going to be difficult,” the police chief went on, “but we’ve decided we want you and Sam Prophet to work together on this.”
“Together?” Hearing her voice shoot up an octave, Nora strained to bring it under control. In the most professional manner she could muster, she amended, “I’m sure we can both advise the supervising detective as needed.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” Max said. “You’re both experienced investigators in your own right, and time is of the essence. We’re putting the two of you in charge, jointly.”
“You mean you’re making Sam and me a team?” She hadn’t imagined anything as devastating as this.
Inquiries into serial murders involved weeks or months of intensive work, with ten-to-twelve-hour days often spilling over into weekends. They required coordination, communication and a level of closeness that Nora didn’t even want to think about.
“Is that a problem?” the chief asked.
As a self-respecting police sergeant, she could only give one response. “Of course not, sir.”
“Good.” Max nodded at the case files. “Sam’s probably on his way over here right now. I’d like you to review those together. It should help you start thinking of yourselves as a team.”
“Absolutely.” The word came out barely audible, because most of the air had just disappeared from Nora’s lungs.
“Whatever support you two require, don’t hesitate to ask.” Max watched her sternly. Despite his genuine concern for his officers, he held them to high standards. “I don’t need to tell you that this investigation has top priority.”
The Trigger Page 4
