Rather than answer her, Bryce asked a question of his own. “Is that a personal question, Detective Scott? I’m not sure if I can answer that in light of our previous arrangement.”
Maybe she had that coming, Scottie thought. “I said I didn’t want to share my personal life. You can share yours to your heart’s content.”
“Well, that seems rather one-sided,” Bryce commented. “Lucky thing for you, I don’t take offense easily.”
“Lucky,” she echoed. Looking down at the files on her lap, she made a quick decision. “Okay, let’s get lunch and pick this up again later.”
She was rewarded by a broad smile. “Sounds good to me. What are you in the mood for?” he asked.
Scottie never hesitated. “Answers.”
“I was talking about lunch,” Bryce pointed out.
She shrugged indifferently. Food was food to her. “Whatever you want,” she told him.
“You don’t have any preferences?” he asked incredulously.
“Nope. Whatever’s close by is fine with me,” she answered.
That surprised him. If asked, he would have guessed that his new partner had a particular list of things she ate and things she rejected. Maybe he’d misread her, Bryce thought.
“How about Chinese?” he questioned, waiting to see if she would actually go along with his choice.
“Sure. Why not?” she told him gamely.
“I know just the place.”
She nodded, slipping the top file back into her messenger bag. “I figured you would,” she told him.
As Bryce drove to the closest storefront restaurant he knew that specialized in decent Chinese food, he spared his partner a glance. Unlike his old partner, Scottie didn’t talk much. Right now, she seemed to be intently studying the list of stolen goods they’d gotten from Taylor’s wife.
“What’s so interesting?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet,” she replied.
That was a lie, really. Her attention was focused on Taylor’s stolen coin collection. Growing up, her brother’s prize possession—his only possession, really, was a very small coin collection he had put together himself by carefully culling early dated coins out of circulation. He would take a roll of nickels to the bank and exchange them for another roll of nickels, which he would take home, open up and search through for an early dated coin. When he found one, it was like Christmas for him, she recalled. What captured his fascination was not just the coin itself, but who had had the coin before him.
When he had finally landed a job with the gaming company, putting his life together, she’d given him a special set of uncirculated Walking Liberty half dollars. His eyes had shone.
Was this Ethan’s handiwork, after all? If it was, she was certain he hadn’t pulled it off alone, but it did seem to have his fingerprints all over it. At least figuratively.
She was reading things into this, Scottie reproached herself. One clue at a time. She needed to take this slow to see where it ultimately ended up taking her.
It took Scottie a minute to realize that the car was no longer moving. Cavanaugh had pulled up into a parking lot and was just sitting there, looking at her.
She was slipping. She was usually far more aware of her surroundings than this. This thing with Ethan had really thrown her. She needed to get hold of herself, otherwise, she wasn’t going to do herself, or Ethan, any good.
“You’re not driving,” she noted.
“Nothing gets by you, does it?” Bryce commented, amused. “I’m not driving because we’re here. At the restaurant,” he added when she didn’t seem to pick up what he was telling her. “Would you like to get out of the vehicle?” he suggested.
“Oh, right.”
Not wanting to take a chance with leaving the folders in the car, she quickly slipped the folders back into her messenger bag.
Holding the restaurant door open for her, Bryce waited until she entered the crowded restaurant then walked in behind her.
“You looked as if you were really absorbing everything in the folder, not to mention memorizing the list Taylor gave us. So, got any thoughts about the break-ins?”
“They were methodical, precise and done by someone who knew what he or she was doing.” There was more, but she was still working that out in her head and wasn’t ready to share it with him.
“You think it was just one person involved?” he questioned. Catching the hostess’s eye, he held up two fingers. The woman grabbed two menus and beckoned them forward.
Scottie shook her head in response to his question. “Most likely not. I get the impression that there’s at least two, maybe three, people involved.” Ethan’s old gang was comprised of four other people—and him. Each had a particular skill.
Bryce resisted the temptation to put his hand to her back to usher her along as they followed the hostess to a free table. “Go on.”
“I think one person decides which houses to break into.”
His head filled with questions. “What’s their criteria? How do they know which houses to break into and how do they know when?”
She could tell him what she really thought, but that could very well implicate Ethan. So, for now, she came up with alternate theories in hopes of leading Bryce astray until she worked things out to her own satisfaction.
Sitting at the table, she said, “I suppose that there could be someone watching them. According to the résumés we’ve got on the victims, these are not your run-of-the-mill nine-to-fivers. These are CEOs, trust fund babies, self-made millionaires. They don’t hold down regular jobs and yet, so far, not a single one of them was home when the break-ins occurred.”
“‘Watching them,’” Bryce repeated. “You mean like tailing them?”
She shook her head. She knew she could say yes and she and her partner could waste a lot of time collecting various traffic cam videos from all points surrounding the houses that had suffered break-ins, but she didn’t want to insult Cavanaugh’s intelligence. She was fairly certain he’d see right through that quickly enough.
“No. Looking over their statements, none of the victims mentioned that they felt someone was following them, so I don’t think there was any actual ‘physical’ tailing involved.”
The waiter came by and Bryce gave his order mechanically. He ordered the same thing every time. His philosophy was, if something worked, don’t mess with it. He expected Scottie to pause and peruse the menu but she surprised him by telling the server, “Lobster Cantonese, two egg rolls,” and then handed the menu to him.
“You think that whoever put in their security monitor might be involved?” Bryce asked her as soon as the server left.
“That was the first thing I went over,” she told him. “All the victims have different security systems, installed by different people.” She paused to allow that to sink in. “But that doesn’t mean that one person can’t hack into those different systems and disarm them.”
Bryce looked at her. She was onto something, he thought. He could tell by the look in her eyes. But he had the feeling she wasn’t about to share that piece of information, either, not until she was fairly certain about it.
“Why don’t we question some more of the victims,” Scottie said, “and I’ll keep going over their lists of missing items as well as what they tell us. Maybe we’ll see a pattern.”
Bryce raised his eyes to hers and she couldn’t read his expression. All she knew was that he made her want to squirm—for more than one reason.
“You see a pattern already, don’t you?” he asked quietly.
She wanted to say no, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t believe her, so she resorted to a half lie. “I’m not sure yet.”
The truth of it was, she was looking for another explanation. Her brother couldn’t be the only computer genius around who had the abili
ty to hack into computers and security systems. There had to be others who could do what he did, right? Maybe this was the work of someone else who knew how to get computers to do what they needed done.
She was retreating, Bryce thought. He needed to get her to trust him and to keep advancing this case until they caught whoever was behind all this. “Well, you tell me what you need and we’ll go from there.”
She wanted to stall.
Now that she felt she was actually onto something, she had a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach and she wanted to step back and search for another explanation—and pray that Ethan had come to his senses. He knew what finding out that he was involved in this would cost her, knew what side of the law he was supposed to be on. Would he just throw everything away this way?
If it was him, she had to believe he was doing this unwillingly. Otherwise, she didn’t think she could bear it.
“You look like something’s on your mind,” Bryce commented.
Damn, she was going to have to work on her poker face. “Lunch,” she told him, looking around for the server to return with their orders.
“No, something else,” he told her.
She shrugged. “I don’t like people who steal things from other people. I grew up poor and all I ever wanted was to be able to earn enough money to buy the things I wanted.”
The expression in his eyes told her he knew it was more than that but because their partnership was in its infancy, for now he didn’t push.
But she had a feeling that he would eventually. And soon.
Please get your act together, Ethan. And soon, she prayed.
Chapter 8
“By the way, that qualifies,” she informed him as she bit into her egg roll.
Bryce looked at her, confused. The remark had come out of nowhere. “Come again?”
“We made a bargain earlier,” Scottie reminded him. “I said I’d share two personal things about myself with you at the end of the day. Well, it’s not the end of the day yet, but what I just told you qualifies as a personal fact, so that’s ‘one.’”
Bryce was well aware that she had pulled back the curtain a tiny bit and showed him something from her private life. He nodded, smiling at her. “I wasn’t going to say anything because I thought maybe you were on a roll and would just go on opening up.”
A faint smile curved the corners of her mouth. “Nope.”
Bryce decided that maybe a little one-for-one trade might be in order. “Anything about me you want to know?” he asked.
“Nope.”
He believed her. That made her pretty unique in his book. “A woman devoid of curiosity. You are a rare creature, Alexandra Scott.”
She had a feeling he was trying to trick her into lowering her guard. “You’re not going to flatter me into opening up.”
Bryce laughed to himself. “Didn’t think so.” He was almost finished with his chicken lo mein when his cell phone began to pulse. Setting his chopsticks down, he took his phone out of his pocket. “Cavanaugh.”
The next moment, as Scottie looked in his direction, she saw his expression change. Had there been another break-in?
“Slow down,” he urged the person on the other end of the call. “Where are you?”
Maybe it wasn’t another break-in, but there was something definitely wrong. Scottie stopped eating. She heard the concern in her partner’s voice and did her best to try to fill in the blanks.
“I’ll be right there.” Terminating the call, Bryce tucked his cell back in his pocket. “We’ve got to go,” he told Scottie.
She picked up her messenger bag. “I kind of figured that part out. Who called? Was there another break-in?” she asked.
Bryce looked around for their server. “That was Noelle.”
The name meant nothing to her and she waited for Bryce to explain further. But he was waving over the server. As soon as the latter drew closer, Bryce said, “I need the check and a couple of to-go containers along with two bags.”
The server nodded. It was obvious from their initial interaction that the man knew who Bryce was. “Urgent police business, Detective?”
“Something like that,” Bryce said. He took out a couple of twenties and handed them to the server. “This should cover the bill.”
Scottie started to open her bag. “I can pay my own way,” she protested.
Bryce waved away her attempt to give him money. “Don’t worry, I have a feeling that you will.”
Scottie had no idea what he was talking about. “What’s that supposed to mean? And who’s Noelle?” she asked.
“My brother Duncan’s wife,” he told her as the server hurried over with the containers he’d requested. The man quickly deposited what was left of their lunches into them. “My brother Duncan’s very pregnant wife,” Bryce emphasized.
Now she recalled the exchange between her partner and his brother at Malone’s last night. Bryce looked worried, she thought. “Is there something wrong?”
“Yeah. She’s stuck in traffic and she can’t reach Duncan.”
“Okay.” She still didn’t understand why his sister-in-law had called Bryce.
Nodding at the server, Bryce took his doggie bag. “And her water broke half an hour ago.”
“Oh.” Now it made sense. Scottie grabbed her own doggie bag and headed for the door. “Let’s go. You drive and I’ll keep trying to get Duncan,” she volunteered.
Given the way she claimed to feel about keeping their private lives separate from their work lives, Bryce had half expected his partner to hang back or suggest calling in paramedics rather than going to Noelle with him. Instead he found he had to hurry to catch up to her.
“You are full of surprises, Scottie,” he told her, following her out the door.
She didn’t understand why he would say that. “Why? Because I want to help a pregnant woman in labor?”
Reaching the car, Scottie got in on the passenger side. She put her doggie bag on the floor and buckled up.
“It’s not exactly part of the actual job definition, especially not for a detective,” he pointed out, getting in behind the wheel. Because there was no room on his side, he deposited his doggie bag next to hers on the floor on Scottie’s side.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she contradicted. “This is the ‘serve’ part of protect and serve.”
He made his way out of the parking lot. Traffic, he noted, seemed rather heavy for this time of day. It was past lunchtime. “Yeah, I guess you could look at it that way.”
She dug her phone out of her bag. “What’s your brother’s cell number?” she asked. Bryce rattled off the number. She quickly entered it on the keypad. The call connected, then immediately devolved into static.
“Did you get him?” Bryce asked. He was doing his best to change lanes but each lane seemed to be moving slower than the last.
“No, just static. They must be working on one of the cell towers in the area,” she commented, terminating the call and trying again.
“Keep trying.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” she told him. Her second attempt had the same results as her first. Nothing but static. She tried one more time then closed her phone, deciding to wait a few minutes.
“No luck?” Bryce asked, glancing at her.
“No luck. I’ll try again in a few minutes. Was there an accident?” she asked. “There’s an awful lot of traffic for this time of day.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said impatiently.
She decided not to press. There was nothing either of them could do about the traffic. She waited for it to clear up.
As they went down one of the longer blocks, they saw what the problem was. It looked as if some sort of glitch had shut down the power grid, causing traffic lights to go out for what looked like at least
a mile in either direction.
“We could make better time getting to Noelle if we got out and walked,” Bryce complained, craning his neck to see how far the problem went.
He appeared genuinely concerned and she gave him points for that. Maybe he wasn’t all ego, sexy smile and great hair. “You sure you know the location of her car?” she asked Bryce.
He nodded. She could see he was gripping the steering wheel hard in his frustration. “She said she was stuck just past the intersection of Jefferson Road and Alton.”
“That’s not that far from here,” Scottie said. “Although, given the way this traffic is moving, it might as well be in the next city.”
“I know,” he grumbled. “When she couldn’t reach Duncan, she decided to drive herself to the hospital—before she got stuck in traffic. Move!” he shouted in frustration at the cars in front of him. “Maybe we should get out and walk.”
Scottie had a better idea. “Drive on the sidewalk,” she told him.
Bryce looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “What?”
“Drive on the sidewalk,” she repeated. Because of the drought, the city had allowed most of the grass to die a natural death so there wasn’t anything to really damage along the sidewalks. “It’s the only way we’re going to be able to get to your sister-in-law sooner than later. Driving is still preferable to running.”
He weighed his options. “You used to watch those over-the-top action movies as a kid, didn’t you?” he guessed.
Not waiting for an answer, Bryce maneuvered his vehicle to the right and drove it onto a long stretch of sidewalk as stunned drivers watched.
Scottie reached over and flipped on the portable siren and whirling lights. “As a matter of fact, I did. That’s two,” she told him.
He kept his eyes on the sidewalk, looking out for pedestrians. “Two?”
“Two personal facts about me,” she told him. “That’s all you get.” Sticking her head out the passenger-side window, she waved her hand urgently and called out, “Get out of the way!” to a man who seemed oblivious to his surroundings as he walked his miniature greyhound. “This is an emergency!” she shouted. The man retreated, yanking his dog along with him.
Cavanaugh on Call Page 8
