by Dianna Love
“The hallway Celina and Forester’s room was on was not straight. The angles of the hotel were created to maximize their ocean views so each hallway was architecturally built to accommodate the U-shape of the building. Three rooms on each floor in the curve jutted backwards toward the east, because of the shape, but also because of the increased depth of the interior walls for support. The cameras in these hallways show the elevator on one end and the stairs on the other, but parts of the hall itself go out of view.”
On the computer screen, the man followed Sara’s commentary like an actor taking directions. Off the elevator with the laundry bin. Disappearing off camera. Reappearing in the next shot. “We never see him at Celina’s room, but my guess is her chief ended up in that laundry bin. He may have stepped out to grab something from the vending machines or to check in with the security personnel.”
“Shit,” Thomas said under his breath.
Cooper shook his head. “He wouldn’t have left Celina alone.”
Sara reached for anything pertinent. “Unless, maybe he heard something in the hallway and went to investigate?” Footage from the parking lot appeared on screen. “This is behind the hotel on the east side near the staff entrance. The camera’s mounted on a light pole, twenty feet up to avoid tampering, so the view is wide-angle and doesn’t help with IDing our man.”
The perp pushed the bin out the door. Another man appeared, seemingly out of the shadows. His head was covered with a hooded sweatshirt. Baggy jeans added to the overall disguise. It was hard to tell whether he was fat or just layered.
“You’ll find this interesting,” Sara said, using a finger to point to the men. The hooded man looked in the bin, shook his head, brought a hand out of his sweatshirt’s front pocket and motioned. “They seem to be arguing.”
The man in the cap threw up his hands but then the two pushed the cart to an old car partially obscured by the building. Only the hooded man was still on camera. The trunk lid went up and the hooded man bent over, strained to pull something out of the bin and set it in the trunk. The lid went down. Hooded man gestured with his hands again and cap man came back into view, pushing the cart quickly to the entrance. He swiped a key card across the lock and was in.
The scene switched back to the inside of the hotel. Cap man followed his previous pattern. Off the elevator but without a laundry bin this time. On the wall below the camera, he set off the fire alarm, then hurried down the hallway, disappearing from view.
“At this point, he let himself into Celina’s room, accosted her, and left via the balcony. There are no cameras in the courtyard except one in the pool area. He never shows up on that one.”
“Someone want to tell me what you’re all doing in my bathroom?”
Celina stood in the doorway. She was cradling her right arm with her left as she noted the assortment of her belongings lying in piles on the bathroom floor. The half-moons under her eyes were dark, and her hair needed brushing. Her skin was slightly ashen and she seemed younger without her makeup.
And when Celina gave each of them a questioning eyebrow raise, Sara saw the haunted look she’d once seen in her own eyes. A look that came with age and extreme circumstances.
Handing her tablet to Mitch, Sara knelt down and scooped up Celina’s jeans and folded them, putting them back into her overnight bag. She’d already repacked her personal items, thank goodness. “I apologize for the invasion of privacy. We found a tracking device in your computer bag.” She glanced up at Celina as she re-rolled a shirt. “That’s how Emilio found you so quickly here in Carlsbad.”
“You should be in bed,” Cooper said. Not a request, but not exactly a demand either. Sara admired his restraint. She could tell by his posture and the set of his jaw that he wanted to reach out and grab Celina. Steady her as she now leaned on the doorframe for balance. Sara wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d scooped up Celina and deposited her back into bed like a child.
“Where’s your IV?” Thomas asked.
“I don’t need it.” Celina raised her chin a notch. She knelt and picked up her toiletries bag from the floor with her left hand. “I’m feeling a lot better.”
When she rose to stand, however, she lost her balance. Sara reached out to grab her, but Cooper was already there. He’d moved so fast, even Sara, right next to her, hadn’t seen him actually cross the two steps to Celina’s side. Sara grabbed Celina’s other elbow.
“Back to bed. Now.” Cooper put an arm around Celina’s waist, avoiding her injured arm. Sara stepped over the bag and camera accessories as she helped Cooper turn the young woman around.
“No,” Celina protested, pulling back. Before she could say anything else, Sara’s cell phone rang. Celina stopped struggling and all eyes went to her. Sara didn’t give up her hold on Celina as she pulled her phone off her belt. Checking the caller ID, she heard Cooper’s cell phone ring, followed by Nelson’s, Mitch’s and Thomas’s in order.
Something was wrong. “Rios,” she answered.
“The Mexican federales found a body about twenty minutes ago west of Tijuana,” her contact inside the CIA said. “They reached out to San Diego and L.A. Word is, it’s your missing chief.”
The man on the phone did not work for the FBI, but he was high in the Agency hierarchy and also Sara’s husband. At times, he found out info before she did, and passed it along under what he called ‘interagency cooperation’.
Once upon a time, they’d been spies together, partners in every sense of the word. Their jobs were different now, but they were still partners.
Cooper held onto Celina with one hand as he answered his phone with the other. Nelson and Mitch simultaneously answered their phones. Then Thomas.
Sara saw the look on Cooper’s face. He was receiving the same news. “Thanks for the head’s up,” she told her husband. “You know anything else?”
In the room, Cooper released Celina and covered his other ear with his hand. “Say again?”
Nelson, Mitch, and Thomas, still side by side, were doing the same as they all tried to talk and listen to the information coming in. Cooper’s gaze cut to Celina and then away. “Ah, Jesus.”
“Chief Forester was filleted,” Sara’s husband said. “From his hairline down to his toes. It would have made ID difficult and postponed it for a while if it hadn’t been for the message the killer left behind.”
“Message?” Sara echoed.
“‘She’s next’ was cut into his chest.”
Ah, Jesus, is right, Sara thought. She averted her eyes from Celina, afraid the other woman might read the depth of her disgust.
“I gotta go.” She disconnected, wondered how Cooper would break the news to Celina.
“What’s going on in here?”
It was a nurse, standing in the doorway, her plump hands on her non-existent waistline, sending each person in the room a scolding look. “You people can’t be using cell phones in the hospital. Don’t you know there’s a rule against that?”
Cooper hung up, ignored the nurse, and took Celina by the hand. “They found Forester.”
It seemed impossible, but her face paled even more. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Nelson, Mitch, and Thomas were closing their phones and shuffling their feet.
The nurse cleared her throat. “My patient needs to get back in her bed and the rest of you need to leave. This isn’t good for her.”
Sara turned on the nurse. “Could you excuse us for a minute?” Without waiting for a reply, she slammed the bathroom door in the astonished nurse’s face.
“Tell me the truth.” Celina stared at Cooper. “Forester’s dead, isn’t he?”
Cooper nodded once, failed to elaborate. Sara and the others took their cue from him and remained quiet.
“Where is he? What happened to him?”
“Thomas, Nelson, Mitch, take off. Get to the site and see what you can find.”
The three men nodded at Cooper and exited the room. Sara heard the nurse start badgering them.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Sara said quietly. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
Celina’s voice hitched. “It’s that bad?” She shook her head when Sara moved to her side. Firmed her stance. “Just tell me. I’m not a kid. I can handle it.”
Sara saw Cooper assess Celina’s strength. He paused, but only for a second. Ran a hand over his face. “Emilio and his partner took him over the border, strung him out, cut him up.”
Celina’s face blanched. “And the message?”
“‘She’s next.’”
Celina rocked on her feet. Sara had her hand ready to catch her. “That bastard,” Celina whispered. “Why doesn’t he just take me?”
“This is not your fault,” Cooper said. Sara could see that he too was waiting for Celina to lose her balance, for her knees to buckle. “They’ve outwitted us at every turn. Injured and killed trained FBI agents. We all look like a bunch of rookies.”
Celina flinched, and Cooper said, “I didn’t mean it like that…”
She raised a hand to shush him, and her voice came out steady and firm. “I’m going to put on my shoes and brush my hair.” Her face was void of emotion. “Then I want you to take me there, to where they found the chief. I want to see it. See him.”
Cooper and Sara exchanged a brief glance. “That’s not a good idea,” Cooper told her. “You don’t need to see it and you haven’t been discharged yet. The nurse is right. You should be in bed. The surgeon still has to look at your wrist and decide if you need surgery.”
Celina turned to Sara. “Help me brush my hair and get my shoes on, will you? I can shoot with my left hand, but I can’t even brush my hair with it, and I certainly can’t tie my shoes with my right hand immobilized like this.” She held up her hand, the brace covering half of her forearm as well.
Determined. She was definitely determined. “I’d be glad to help. Then we’ll talk about you staying in the hospital, okay?”
Cooper gave Sara a grateful nod and excused himself from the bathroom. Before the door shut behind him, Sara heard the nurse giving him hell.
Sara washed Celina’s face, helped her open a bottle of face cream; apply mascara and a swipe of lip gloss. The two of them sat on the floor as Sara brushed Celina’s hair and Celina slowly repacked her camera bag. “What about the bug?” Celina said.
“I have an idea.” Sara stood, pulled Celina to her feet. “You go with Cooper, I’ll stay here. The bag and the tracking device stay with me. I’ll draw him here to the hospital and maybe capture his skinny ass.”
Outside the bathroom, Sara and Celina found Cooper and the nurse in a silent standoff. The nurse opened her mouth when she saw Celina, but Celina held up her good hand to stop her just like she’d done with Cooper. “I need another minute. Please.”
The nurse threw her hands up and left the room.
“Sara and the bug are staying here,” Celina told him. “She’s going to pretend she’s me, just in case Emilio decides to come after me here. You and I are going to Tijuana.”
“Like hell we are.”
Sara laid a hand on Cooper’s arm. “She should go. She needs to see what happened and the place where it happened. It may spark something that will help us catch Emilio and the other man.”
“Absolutely not.”
Celina picked up her camera bag, slung it over her left shoulder. “If you don’t take me, I’ll call a cab.”
Cooper crossed his arms over his chest. Sara held her breath.
Five minutes later, Sara crawled into the hospital bed, pulled the sheet up to her face, and stuck her Glock under the pillow.
When the nurse came in, she got quite a surprise.
Chapter Twenty-three
South of San Diego
For the first time since their night at her apartment, Celina and Cooper were alone. Really alone. No one standing guard outside the door, no nurse about to burst in on them. As Cooper drove the highway south to the border, Celina felt his physical proximity and his emotional distance in the pit of her stomach like a tangled ball of yarn.
What she had to decide was which string to pull.
About the other night…
Prepare me for what I’m about to see…
Thanks for watching over me while I slept…
About the other night…
“How’s the wrist?” Cooper asked.
“Fine,” Celina lied automatically. Her fingers were stiff and swollen. The light dose of pain killers at the hospital had worn off. She flexed her hand and smiled at Cooper through the pain. “I won’t be winning any arm wrestling matches for a while, but I never won those anyway.” She saw the flash of disbelief in his eyes. “I’m fine. Really.”
He did that chin tilt nod of his and kept his eyes on the road. “This is gonna be ugly, Celina. You’re going to have to distance yourself emotionally to keep your professionalism intact.”
“Yeah, I know.” But in a sense, she didn’t know. “Chief Forester was a human being. A gruff, unforgiving SOB, but still a human being. He didn’t deserve this.” She shifted in the seat, held her injured arm with her good one. At least she and Cooper were talking, maybe not about their relationship, but she’d take what she could get at this point. “So why do I have to stay professional? Why can’t I pitch a fit if I’m angry? Why can’t I cry if I’m sad?”
Cooper’s focus stayed on the road. “Because emotions get in the way of logic. They override it. If you want to understand the killer, want to figure what motivates him and how to catch him, you have to shut down your emotions and use your brain.”
Celina sighed, laid her head on the back of the seat. “You sound like my Academy teachers. I can do that with fear, but the rest…” She shook her head.
“It takes practice,” Cooper said. “You have to show up and do the job, just like showing up at the firing range and plugging paper men with holes. The more you do it, the better you get at it.”
“Until you’re as tough and hard and impenetrable as The Beast.”
That got his attention off the road. For a second. “Yes. My job requires a certain level of hardness.”
“Like, on the Mohs scale of hardness, you must be a hundred.”
“The Mohs scale only goes to ten.”
You break the scale, trust me.
About the other night…
“So what if I look at Forester’s body and I toss my cookies?”
Cooper shrugged. “Worst-case scenario, you’ll pass out stone cold, but more likely you’ll vomit and move on. Everyone in this job tosses their cookies at least once. Real-life blood and body parts are a whole lot different, a whole lot worse, than horror movies.”
“Do you always view life as a worst-case scenario?”
“Yes,” Cooper said to her, absolute as always.
“Why?”
“If I expect the worst, I’m never surprised by it.”
“And if something less than the worst happens, you’re happy?”
Another shrug. “I don’t do happy.”
“I noticed.”
He cut his gaze to her. “If something less than the worst happens, I’m pleasantly surprised. How’s that?”
Celina smiled. “Better.”
They drove in silence through the border checkpoint and into Mexico. Drawing closer to the site where a host of law enforcement officials, both American and Mexican, were waiting for them, Celina decided to pull the string that was tickling her stomach the most. “About the, um, other night…”
Dirt sprayed as Cooper drove off the road. “There are better times for this conversation.”
“Humor me. I need the distraction.”
Celina heard him draw a slow, deep breath as he flashed his badge at a local officer who motioned them through the barricade. “I set up a rule for myself a long time ago,” he said quietly. “I don’t sleep with women I work with. It’s unprofessional and it could endanger both our job
s and our lives. It doesn’t work.”
A jumble of cars huddled a few yards away, their black and tan colors blending into the desert. Red and blue lights spun circles, drawing her nearer with each flash. “This rule is based on past experience? Like, say, with, oh, let’s see…Lana?”
“What?” Cooper’s face showed total disbelief. Then disgust. “God, no.”
“You and Lana never showed each other your badges?”
Cooper’s disgust turned to amusement. He actually laughed. Out loud. “Now that is a worst-case scenario. I can’t even get my mind around that one.”
“So you never had sex with a co-worker,” Celina said, as they pulled up alongside an unmarked brown car.
“Not until you.” Cooper shifted the Tacoma into park, turned in his seat to face her. “Truth is, I’ve never been attracted to anyone I worked with. Until you.”
“Really?” Celina’s heart did happy quite well. It was good to sit in the car with Cooper’s solemn gaze on her. His eyes were soft and warm, like the other night in the restaurant. Comfortable. If she could sit there for just another minute or two… “So, women with guns are not your type.”
“Right.”
“What is your type?” This wasn’t a stall tactic. She really wanted to know.
Cooper pulled his badge off his belt, hung it around his neck. “Intellectuals.”
“Braniacs? Like…” Celina racked her brain. “Professors? Scientists?”
“Yes,” Cooper said. “Teachers, doctors, lawyers. I like smart women. In skirts.”
Celina punched him on the shoulder with her left hand. It packed about half the force her right would have.
“Really short skirts,” he continued, smiling as he popped open the glove compartment and took out several latex gloves. “They hop up on their desk, shake their hair loose from the required tight bun at the back of their head, and slide their skirt up.”
Now Celina laughed at his surprisingly graphic sexual description of what he liked. “Logical women,” she said, ignoring his blatant distraction. “You like women who use logic in their jobs.”
“And wear short skirts.”
