"Second guy look familiar?"
"Not sure. Maybe. He got a good look at me."
"Great. You win the stakeout lottery. You're done. I'll take over the tail."
"Sorry."
I waited until Flaherty gave me a two-click signal that the men left the store before I made for the exit. Just as I reached the doors, my favorite store clerk leaped into my path, his clipboard held like a shield in front of him. "Oh," he said, his smile disappearing. He blew a stream of air towards a lock of hair that flopped forward over his forehead. "You already signed."
"And I'm so happy I did, Clyde." I made to step around him, then stopped and stepped back. "Hey, you know those two guys who were in here a few minutes ago?"
"The ones you were talking to?"
"Yeah. Did they sign up?"
The man nodded. "Yep! I only need forty-six more names now!"
"Can I see them?" I asked, reaching for the clipboard. Clyde held it to his chest. "Please? I just wanted to know their names so I could invite them to... uh, my parents' wedding anniversary. We haven't seen them in ages." I batted my eyelashes. My heart sped up a notch. I could smell the breakthrough.
"Well, uh, I guess. Let's see. Elton John and Justin Bieber," he said, without pause.
I blew out the breath I'd been holding in and palmed my head. "Fabulous. Thanks so much!"
"No problem! Come again!"
Not likely.
Chapter Eighteen
Solomon was waiting for me when I got back from my failed stakeout close to an hour later, thanks to heavy traffic. As far as I knew, Flaherty was still having a whale of a time following Somper and his mystery friend.
"I can't believe I let Somper make me," I said, flopping onto the couch next to him.
"What story did you give him?"
"Said I was buying Spackle and paint." I shrugged. "He didn't look too pleased to see me so I just said 'see ya' and left."
Solomon seemed nonplussed. "It doesn't matter. At least you got to verify it was him."
"Not the other guy though. He seemed kind of familiar at first, but I don't know why. I think I might have seen him somewhere before."
"Could you have seen him on base?"
"Maybe." I pulled a face and threw my arms up in exasperation. "I thought at the gym, maybe, but I just don't know. What's happening here?"
"Hold up. Back to Somper. What was he doing in a store like that?"
"I don't know. Redecorating?" Even as I said it, it sounded weird. “His friend was buying a portable heater.”
“A heater?”
"Maybe it's nothing. He could just live somewhere without heating."
"Hmm." Solomon closed his laptop and gave me a look. I knew that face. Neither of us were convinced. "So? What's going on with you?" I asked.
"Nothing. The phones haven't come back online. I sent Delgado out to tag team with Flaherty. Twenty minutes ago, Flaherty called in to say Somper dropped the other guy at his car. Out of the two, he tailed Somper and said it looks like he's heading back to base. I'm going to search his office before he gets here. Delgado's gone to take a look at the second house you went to see."
I missed all the fun. Again. "What about Tate? How did your meeting go? Did he give you anything?" I was in danger of babbling, so I shut up and waited.
Solomon ran a hand through his short crop of hair. "Yeah, 'bout that. Didn't happen. Tate got shanked a half hour before I got there. He's in the infirmary."
My mouth dropped open. "Jeez! Is he going to make it?"
"The knife missed the major organs, so he should be okay. They were talking about transferring him to Montgomery General. He was lucky."
We pondered that. Tate didn't sound lucky to me. Actually, it sounded like all his luck had run out.
"So... do you want company while you raid Somper's office?"
Solomon shook his head. "The gym's still open so it'll be easier if I go in alone. Plus, I need you to swap the car for my Lexus. Fletcher got it back from the body shop and is driving it over. He'll call you when he's nearby and meet you off base to do the swap." He leaned over and unexpectedly kissed me on the lips, lingering for a moment. "Do you want the bullets they pulled out?" he asked, very softly like he was whispering something sweet.
"No!" I recoiled and he laughed. "Very funny. What's wrong with this car?"
"Mine's bigger and better."
"Bet you say that to all the girls.”
Solomon laughed, but he didn't deny it. "I have a lab tech I know running a ballistics report to see if the gun shows up in the system. Intrigued?" he told me, pulling me back to him, his mouth lingering near mine.
You bet I was. If the bullets were traced to a hot weapon in the system, we could get a name; and it would snowball from there, taking us one step closer to finding who held Roxanne. Then, it would only be a short hop, to finding Jillian’s real killer.
"Come back here when you're done," he told me, and this time, his voice was smoky, full of promise. "I'll make it worth your while.”
"Yes, boss," I whispered as I kissed him back, trying to ignore the little tug at my heart. What was I doing?
~
The call from Fletcher came in forty minutes after Solomon disappeared into the gym. What took him so long I didn't know, but at least the brief sojourn off base would give me something to do. It was better than pacing, fidgeting and bothering Lucas over the phone as I had been doing until Fletcher interrupted me. Disconnecting, I switched lines to continue my conversation with our tech genius.
"I've got nothing," said Lucas. "Not a thing to tell you."
"Didn't Flaherty call in with a plate? He said he was going to."
"Nope. Guess he forgot. I'll chase him up later."
I made a sound that didn't sound pleased.
Lucas sighed. "Is it that important?"
"Guess not. But remind him if you speak to him. It would be useful to know to whom the car is registered. It might lead us to the other man."
"Gotcha. I’ll give Flaherty a call. Gotta go."
"Hot date?"
"With a network you don't want to know about."
"Is it anything to do with Solomon's secret new venture where he's taking you away to live with new people?"
Lucas laughed. "He told you?"
"Yes," I lied. "He told me everything." I waited for Lucas to tell me everything.
"I'm not falling for that."
"Falling for what?" I asked innocently, but he hung up on me.
The exchange with Fletcher took a grand total of two minutes. Long enough for me to get out of the car, take the keys from him and get into Solomon's car—now with new bullet-less tires, just the way I like them—and for Fletcher to drive off, all without saying a word. I didn't take offense. Fletcher was a man of few words, and seventeen facial expressions of disbelief.
A few minutes later, I was back on base. The guard still didn’t seem to recognize me even though I was in and out like a yo-yo. Heading towards the apartment, my stomach tied in knots at the prospect of another weekend away from home. Not only that, this was the second weekend in a row that I was spending with Solomon. I dreaded to imagine what my parents would think of that, though based on my dad's request earlier, he'd probably be delighted. Lily would call it a honeymoon.
But all my problems paled into nothing, compared with the case. Truth be told, I wasn't feeling so great about today, even if I did pull one over on Maddox and Detective Bimbo. We were no closer to finding Roxanne than the day she went missing; and instead of coming up with answers, we just seemed to have more questions. Tate was stabbed and his boss was acting weird. I had a feeling Somper was part of whatever was going on, but how? And why? And did he fit into the money laundering too?
Solomon’s narrow escape from serious injury only a short time ago wasn't all that palatable either. I would have tagged along to the gym with him, but instead, I got to run his errand, then wait for him at the apartment. It made me feel more useless than ever as the
pressure mounted to find Roxanne. If he were right, and something was going down this weekend, while all eyes were on the homecoming celebrations, I figured Roxanne might have less than twenty-four hours to live. If she were even still alive.
Instead of pulling into the apartment's lot, I drove past, aiming for Kevin's bar. He seemed to know plenty of people. Perhaps he might have a lead on who Somper's friend was?
Parking the car into a space, I idled the engine as I stared at the brick wall of the building. Something niggled at me, something that I'd seen, but not processed yet. Try as I might, I couldn't work out what it was. With a grunt of annoyance, I switched off the engine, but as I climbed out of the car, something made me turn my head and I saw him. It wasn't the car from earlier casually gliding past—the same car Flaherty found, lost, and found again—but it was the same man, Somper's tow-headed associate, and he was alone. Where was he heading to?
Before losing the car, I jumped back in Solomon's Lexus and pulled out of the lot, heading in the same direction. I stayed back a few cars while we passed through the gates, then I stepped on it, powering after him before he could get away.
A bubble of excitement fizzled in my chest. This could be a chance to redeem myself. All I had to do was see where this man was headed and what he was doing, maybe even get a name if I got close enough to get the license plate, though it would be more important to see what he did. I could be back before Solomon, no problem.
We traveled swiftly, making few turns, so it was easy for me to drop back another car length and still keep him in my sights as the traffic thinned out.
It was Saturday night on base and most of the onsite residents were gearing up for the big homecoming party. Whatever was taking him out of town and into the countryside must be a lot more important than welcoming his comrades home. With fingers crossed over the steering wheel that my lead would be fruitful, I wondered where he was going and if it would end in finally getting some much needed answers. Even better, perhaps I'd catch a drugs sale, or a cash transfer, maybe even his hand around one of the burn phones, something that would incriminate him. It was a long shot, but my spark of optimism beat sitting in the apartment while everyone else made headway on cracking my case. I thought about Lucas’ hands flying across his keyboard, following an intricate web of cyber clues and Flaherty and Delgado teaming up to complete the surveillance. It wasn't enough that I solved a couple of cases. With a cringing certainty, I was sure the moment I started slipping would be the moment my colleagues decided my current winning streak was nothing more than a fluke. Not that they would say it to my face. No, they'd save it for a major fuck-up. Or just let me know by de-prioritizing my requests and refusing to work with me until I became a liability the agency couldn't carry. And—I gulped—if they ever got wind that I'd slept with Solomon, my career would be over faster than neon legwarmers with no chance of a major fashion revival; and I'd be back to temping. The only thing temping ever got me was Maddox and this job... oh, and Solomon. The years of crappy paychecks, sexual harassment, filing cuts and, finally, the bullet from a serial killer-slash-accountant, were enough to keep me out of that game.
I floored the gas pedal.
I could not, would not, go back to temping.
That thought alone was motivation enough to keep me tailing the car onto a back road. Houses fell away to trees, the just illuminated street lighting ebbed out, and beyond that, the dusky sky didn't reveal much else. Even worse, it started to rain fat drops that splatted on the windshield, and my tummy was making little hungry noises. I flipped the wipers on and craned my head forward as his taillights disappeared around a bend. Where was this guy going?
I ran through my mental checklist of what I had with me in case I had to get out of the car. Solomon kept a weapon under the seat, but since I was unable to lean down and check without veering off the road, I had to assume there was the possibility it wasn’t there anymore. Fletcher was bound to have replaced it, I thought hopefully. I didn’t have much else. I had my cell phone with its camera and video functions. Not as good as my large zoom-lens camera, but sufficient for close filming. And that was it. It wasn't a lot. I remembered my training: Hang back, watch, don't engage. I repeated that to myself as the car drifted off the main road, heading south, and I made the turn, following.
As I rounded the bend, I began thinking about my Maddox and Solomon situation, something I'd been trying hard to keep my mind off.
Earlier, Maddox had implied he didn't consider things over between us. However, I had a strong suspicion if I told him what happened between Solomon and me, that would kill it pretty fast. But if I didn't say anything, and we got back together, that would be as close to lying as it got. Lying by omission, anyway. And that's if we even wanted to get back together. My gut told me pretty Detective Rebecca Blake couldn't be trusted to stay within boundaries; and I wasn't overly happy about the idea of Maddox working with her so closely now or in the future, even if he seemed to think it was nothing more than an undercover act to her.
The difference between him and me was I knew how women thought; and that some women overstepped their limits for all they played the friend, and colleague. I wondered how much he told her about me, or if she were just being polite. For all I knew, Rebecca Blake would be quite happy to have me out of the picture. She might even work on ensuring I stayed that way. After all, she could probably lend Maddox a sympathetic ear, a shoulder, or something more... I shook my head in disgust, the feeling only just giving way to angst as again I thought of Solomon. Was that what I was doing with him? Taking comfort?
I'd known him almost as long as Maddox. There was something between us, even from the start, but I tempered it when I chose Maddox. When I took Solomon's job offer, I put a big distinction between the two of them. Solomon was a man who respected boundaries, but didn't mind testing the waters to see if they were crossable. He asked to cross the boundary once before, giving me the opportunity if I chose it. And as far as he was concerned, there were no boundaries now. Except… again the feeling nagged at me that this was pretend. It was going undercover with extras. He could just as easily turn his back on me next week. And he didn't love me.
Maddox loved me.
But could I trust him?
I hung so far back, I missed the next exit, only realizing that I lost my target when I saw headlamps off to my left, rather than straight ahead. I had to confess: my mind wasn't totally on the follow.
"Damn." I pulled a sharp U-turn and headed back, this time finding the road. It was a narrow lane, just wide enough for two cars to pass, and easy to miss. Shrubbery and weeds sprang up wildly on both sides. Ahead stood a large structure, slightly obscured behind a ten-foot-high wire fence. The gates were open where the car had passed through, disappearing around the side. I slowed. There was nowhere to conceal the Lexus on the road, and if I left it, it would be noticeable to anyone returning this way. That gave me a choice: either leave it on the main road and risk getting it towed, should the county sheriffs pass by and assume it abandoned; or continue along this way, claiming a wrong turn if anyone challenged me.
I drove on. The warehouse loomed closer, its only backdrop the dusky sky. The full moon hung fat, now the rain had passed and the clouds parted. Out on the outskirts of town, the stars twinkled. It was pretty. It would have been prettier if I were sitting at an outside bar of a terrace, but you know how they say that beggars can’t be choosers.
I rumbled along slowly and killed my headlights, pulling into a service yard just inside the gates. The other car was nowhere to be seen. I backed the Lexus behind a broken down truck, the tires long since rotted away, so it now sat on rusted rims. I shut off the engine, pondering my next move. The warehouse yard didn't seem to get a lot of traffic. I had a feeling it was abandoned.
First things first, I checked my phone to see if I had service. I did. I contemplated shooting off a message to Solomon, telling him where I was, but decided that was a little premature, since I would probably be out of
there in a few minutes. On second thought, I messaged: Following a lead. Back soon. I switched my phone to “silent,” just in case Solomon called back.
"Strictly reconnaissance," I said to myself, stepping out of the car. "Piece of cake."
Cool air passed over my face, giving me the shivers, as I took a look around. Given that there was only one set of tire prints on the way into the yard, I decided that the warehouse had fallen into disuse some time ago, maybe even years. The yard itself wasn't even fenced in. Instead, the pot-holed asphalt diminished into waist-high grass and weeds that stretched towards the distant freeway. The perimeter fencing was torn and patched in several places. Hardly a deterrent.
I walked swiftly after the fresh tire tracks, following them around the side of the building. Hugging my body close to the wall, I jogged forwards, hunching over so I wouldn't be seen through the windows. I didn't hear anything from the warehouse, but that wasn't surprising. It was late and too far out of town to be a hangout for the homeless, or kids with nothing better to do. I had to assume someone was inside.
Coming to the end of the building, I paused and stopped. I darted my head around the corner to peek, pulling back almost immediately. I found the car. Dropping to one knee, making my body smaller and less obvious, I peeked again, slowly and cautiously, in case the man waited. After a few seconds, I decided I was alone. The car sat next to a black SUV, clearly newer and more expensive than the car I followed, even from this distance. Both were apparently empty.
I checked the building, inspecting the wall and upwards. I was relieved to see there were no doors on this side either and the windows were higher up. This meant the entrance had to be on the far side of the warehouse. I felt sure that if anyone came out, I'd at least be downwind from them, perhaps even able to scurry back around the building before being spotted.
Seeing as there was no time like the present, I grabbed my cell phone, set it to “camera” and sprinted to the cars. Pressing the back of my hand to the hood, I felt it. Hot, like I expected. I crossed to the second car and repeated the motion. Cold. Whoever drove the SUV had been here a while. I moved around the side of the car, on the furthest side from the rear of the warehouse, and peeked through the windows. The front was clean and empty, save a take-out coffee cup in the cup holder. I saw a map book tucked into the door pocket. Moving to the rear, I put my sleeve over my nose and mouth and smooshed my face as close to the window as I could get without actually leaning my forehead on it. Without my breath fogging the glass, I had a clear view of the bright pink scarf on the floor of the SUV. It was a scarf I remembered Roxanne wearing when I saw her drive past the night she was kidnapped. If I thought it was distinctive then, it was even more so now, alone on the floor of the truck.
Command Indecision (Lexi Graves Mysteries) Page 21
