by K. B. Draper
Again, when Jeff met Daylen’s eyes she was assaulted by waves of emotion. Lust. Obviously, I’m going to have to veto Kanyon’s sexy librarian character next time. Then, contrary to the strength Jeff was trying to outwardly display, she felt the crushing sense of embarrassment, guilt, and frustration. She was again taken off guard by the strength and clarity of the emotions she was reading and needed to blink and shake her head to clear out the feelings so she could think.
Although Kanyon was standing behind Daylen and looking at Jeff, she watched Daylen go oddly motionless for a few seconds and then suddenly shake her head. Weird.
Daylen already knew Jeff was innocent, but she still wanted to question him about the events of the day. She started with easy questions to get him to hopefully relax the feelings that kept surging at her senses. “So, Jeff, how long have you worked for Mr. Remington?”
Jeff fidgeted in is seat. “Two years and seven months, ma’am.”
“You can call me Daylen.”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, Daylen, ma’am.”
Another wave of guilt hit her and Daylen gave him a comforting smile. “Jeff, you understand no one is blaming you for this incident? I’m just here to find out what happened, hopefully figure out who did this, and return the stolen property to the O’Connellys.”
“But it’s my fault.” His stiff back hunched a little and he dropped his eyes to the table. “I was the senior guy on the transport and the cargo didn’t make it to its destination.”
Kanyon watched as Jeff’s shoulders dropped. He’s innocent.
“We’re going to figure this out, Jeff. Don’t worry. But right now I need you to help me, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jeff’s eyes lifted back up to meet Daylen’s and she didn’t need her newly amped up Seeker powers to see the shame flooding them.
“You were the senior guy on the transport. So, Rick hasn’t been on the job as long as you, I take it?”
“No ma’am, Daylen, ma’am. He’s pretty new, only been here a couple months.”
“Have you ever done any other jobs or transports with him?”
“Yes. Mr. Remington assigned him to me a couple of times, kind of like a training officer I guess, and we’ve done a few VIP escorts and a few paper transports, you know, important documents. But no transports like this, no property or money transports.”
“You guys haven’t done any other transports for the O’Connellys?”
“I don’t think Rick has. I’ve done one other job for them; a painting from a gallery, but that was a while back.”
“Okay. Will you walk me through the day’s events, starting from the very beginning?”
Jeff described that he arrived to work on Saturday morning around eight, changed, and got ready for the transport which was supposed to leave at nine for a nine-thirty pickup. He stated he ran through the routine vehicle inspection, checking his assigned armored car’s mechanical integrity. He ensured it had not been tampered with and there was not any tracking devices or location devices attached, as Rick conducted the equipment check. At nine, dispatch released the pickup and delivery details. He and Rick left the station at that time. He was driving and Rick was riding shotgun. He arrived at the O’Connellys’ residence at exactly nine thirty. They were let through the gates and instructed to pull into the first bay of the garage. Once in the garage, they were met by a woman who provided them with a locked, silver briefcase.
“Was the woman Mrs. O’Connelly?” Daylen asked, interrupting Jeff’s retelling.
“No, I don’t think so. I don’t know who she was, but she seemed more like an employee rather than the owner of the house. Also, I think Mrs. O’Connelly is older. This woman was in her late twenties.”
Daylen scribbled more notes, flipping a page, and continuing on the back. “Okay, what happened then?”
“I handed the case to Rick to secure in the trunk’s safe compartment while I completed the paperwork and signed the receipt for the property. We left the garage, went back out through the gate, and followed the route as instructed.”
“How far from the O’Connellys’ did you get before you got intercepted?”
“Five, six miles. I was stopped at a red light when we got rear-ended. The SUV came out of nowhere. I’d been watching the rearview mirror and my surroundings as trained. I looked up at the stop light and before I could do anything more we were being slammed into from behind. Protocol clearly states if the vehicle is still mobile we do not stop in those situations; we report it to dispatch who then contacts the police. But before I got my wits back about me from my head and nose being slammed into the airbag,” he gingerly rubbed at his injured nose, “Rick panicked I guess, because he hit the lock on his door and exited the vehicle. I yelled at him to get back in the car, but he was dazed or something because he didn’t stop. He got out and stumbled around in the street. I felt bad. I didn’t know how bad he was hurt, but protocol and procedures are: you don’t get out. When I couldn’t get him back in the car, I crawled across the seat to secure the door.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I wasn’t fast enough. A guy armed with a semi-automatic rifle jumped in the passenger seat and told me to drive.” Jeff paused and Daylen could tell he was still fighting with the decisions he made that day.
Daylen gave Jeff time and waited for him to continue.
“I did what he said and we went to a warehouse on the east side. Once parked I don’t know what happened. I think that’s when I got the butt of his gun to my face. It must’ve knocked me out ‘cause I woke up later handcuffed to the chair and Rick was cuffed next to me.” He paused again and Daylen waited. “Rick must’ve given them the combo to the trunk lock because they were already gone when I woke up. I fought to get loose, but couldn’t.” He rubbed at the wounds on his wrists. “The police found us shortly after that, I’m guessing by the GPS in our vehicle.”
Daylen asked a couple more clarifying questions then thanked him for his time. When Jeff stood to leave, Daylen tried to give him reassurance that he had done everything right and the theft wasn’t his fault. Though he gave her an appreciative half-smile, she knew it had little to no effect on him. In his mind, he had failed his mission.
They were escorted to their car after another brief conversation with Tony and receiving the information they had requested on Rick.
“He didn’t have anything to do with it,” Kanyon said as they got back in the car.
“I’m inclined to agree, but we’ll keep him on the list of possibilities. Low possibility, but I don’t want to rule him out completely, just yet anyway.”
“Detective 101?”
“Detective 101,” Daylen confirmed with a grin.
“Go talk to Rick?”
“Yep.” Daylen flipped open the copy of Rick’s employee file, scanned it for his home address, and then gave it to Kanyon.
They pulled up in front of Rick’s shabby little bungalow an hour later, having been stuck in an unfortunate traffic back up on the highway. “He should’ve spent his payoff money on a lawn mower,” Kanyon said while eyeing the knee-high grass in the front yard.
“Open mind, remember. We don’t know he took a payoff yet.”
Kanyon rolled her eyes.
Daylen opened her door and crawled out, flinging her bag over her shoulder. “Come on and behave.”
Kanyon followed suit. “Why do you feel the need to say that every time we get ready to go in somewhere?”
Daylen threw a Really, I need to explain that to you? look over her shoulder.
“Whatever,” Kanyon mumbled as Daylen knocked on the door.
A few beats later a skinny guy wearing sweats, a dirty T-shirt, mussed hair, and holding a video game controller opened the front door. “Man, that was fast,” he was saying until he focused in on his two guests. “Oh sorry, I thought you were the pizza guy.”
“Rick?” Daylen asked.
“Uh, yeah.” Cautious, he asked, “Who are you?”
“Your boss, Tony, sent us. He w
anted us to check on you and we need to talk to you about the incident Saturday.” She locked eyes with Rick and the wave of guilt, fear, and then smugness hit her. It was the latter that made her sway slightly onto her heels before she righted herself.
“You look familiar.” Rick eyed Daylen suspiciously then turned to her companion.
Daylen’s knees nearly buckled under the rush of lust that hit her. She swayed again. Thank God I made Kanyon button her shirt or I would’ve been flat on my ass in the yard. She rubbed a quick circle at her temple. I can’t imagine what the kid would’ve done if Kanyon was there as herself, not a middle-aged librarian. The wave of emotions evaporated suddenly, only to be replaced with the warm heat of Kanyon’s hand on the small of her back. She straightened, gave her head a quick shake, and fumbled quickly to redirect his, and quite frankly her attention away from Kanyon. “I’m Daylen. I’m looking into the theft of the O’Connellys’ property and she’s, ahh … my masseuse.” Daylen nearly grimaced at her own words.
“You brought a masseuse with you to talk to me about the hijacking?” Rick questioned.
“Yes,” Kanyon picked up for her, “interviews make her tense, especially when the person is being difficult. She also brought her podiatrist. He’s waiting in the car just in case he has to dislodge a foot from someone’s ass.”
“Okayyy … come in, I guess,” Rick said as he retreated into the house, leaving the door open so they could follow.
Daylen began to step into the doorway when Kanyon grabbed her shoulder.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got lightheaded for a minute. I should probably eat something soon.”
Kanyon eyed her disbelievingly. “Right.”
“I’m fine now. Come on, masseuse, I might need a back rub.” Daylen winked and headed into the house.
“Definitely a much better gig than your podiatrist’s job,” Kanyon replied as they stepped into Rick’s bachelor pad. A quick scan of the room revealed dirty clothes, empty beer bottles, empty fast food containers, and a cigarette butt-filled plant container. She took a sniff of the air, not all cigarette butts she ascertained. Oh, and looky there, one brand new fifty inch, flat screen TV with some war simulated video game paused on it.
Rick plopped down on the couch and unfroze the game. “I’m on level twenty. I’ve never been this far before.” He began to furiously push buttons on the controller, leaning and dodging as if the bombs and bullets on the TV were actually coming at him.
“Excuse me, Rick,” Daylen said softly, standing behind him.
“Oh sorry,” he replied absently, never taking his eyes off the television. “You can have a seat anywhere. Just knock whatever onto the floor.”
Kanyon circled the couch and took in the scrawny kid who was the exact opposite of his partner, Jeff, who was strong, prideful, and shaken up because of his perceived failure. He had also sported a split lip, broken nose, and red marks from restraints. Rick, on the other hand, was relaxed and seemingly untroubled for the most part. He was a little twitchy though. Course that was probably because he was jacked up on Red Bull, if the empty cans scattered all over the floor and coffee table were any indication. Kanyon examined him closer and again, unlike his partner, besides a small red mark on his cheek, Rick was injury free.
“Do you think you could stop playing for a minute and talk to us?” Daylen asked as her patience began to wane.
“I can talk and play, go ahead. Damn, that was close. Come here you little mother fuc– That’s right. Got ya. Boo-yah, shithead,” Rick cheered, celebrating with a quick fist pump in the air before going back to beat the buttons on the controller.
Kanyon gave Daylen a please let me kill him look. Daylen nodded her approval, but mouthed “no blood, no bruises.” Kanyon gave her a quick fake pout with a jetted-out bottom lip, then turned to Rick who was still cheering himself, cussing his virtual foe, and dodging cartoon missiles as if they were landing next to him on the couch. Kanyon walked over and stood between Rick and the TV.
“Hey, I can’t see!” Rick protested as he leaned to see around Kanyon.
“Question, Rick. Can you play video games with two broken thumbs?”
“What?” He gave her a quick glance then went back to the TV. “Come on, move.”
Kanyon took a half turn, spotting the game console behind her. She reached around, grabbed its electrical cord, and yanked it from the wall which was a good four feet away.
“What the hell?” Rick shot up, standing nose to nose with her. “I was just about to beat the next level!”
She gave him a two finger push to the chest which had him dropping back down on the couch. “Aw man, I’m sorry, Ricky.” With a swipe of her arm she cleared a spot on the coffee table, knocking cans and trash to the floor. She sat, meeting Rick at eye level. “See Ricky, I don’t care about your video game. What I do care about is you answering a few questions for Daylen. I suggest you start doing so or you’ll be dislodging,” she grabbed the game controller from his hand, “this from a very uncomfortable place.”
“Okay. Okay.” He scrunched his brows at her. “Geez. I thought you were a masseuse?” Rick mumbled, giving Kanyon his full disgruntled attention.
“Oh, I promise I’ll lay hands on you if you don’t cooperate.”
“Fine.” He dropped further into the couch cushions and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Good. You’re not as stupid as you look.” Kanyon stood and smiled at Daylen. “He’s all yours.”
Daylen took Kanyon’s cleared spot on the coffee table in front of Rick. “Why don’t you start by telling me about Saturday? Just walk me through the day.”
He shot another look at Kanyon who raised an eyebrow at him. “Fine. I went to work like always, met up with my partner, Jeff, and got the assignment to go pick up a package. Jeff drove. Jeff always drives.” He gave a quick eye roll. “He’s like a control freak or something. Anyway, we got to the O’Connellys’ and Jeff got Lydia to sign the paperwork.”
Daylen looked up from her note-taking to look at Rick then Kanyon, who had moved to stand behind Rick. Kanyon returned Daylen’s glance.
Rick, who was staring longingly at the now black TV screen, didn’t catch anything and continued. “I took the pickup and secured it in the trunk. We left, drove a few miles down the road, and we got struck by a truck. I kind of wigged out, I guess, and opened the door. I know we aren’t supposed to and it’s against procedure and all, but I must’ve struck my head or something. I wasn’t with it, you know?” He met Daylen’s eyes and she saw the lie and deceit creep from him like a dark shadow.
“Go on,” Daylen said as she tried to strengthen herself against the wave of darkness. Luckily, he or the darkness wasn’t that strong, as she was able to stay it off by looking down at her notepad and pretending to take more notes.
He gave relatively the same story as Jeff just with less pertinent points and way more “Poor me I’m an innocent victim” details. Daylen asked a few more questions, verifying his answers, then closed her notebook. “Okay, I think we have everything we need. I appreciate your time.” She stood and moved toward the door. Rick stood as well.
“Good.” He held out his hand as he directed his attention to Kanyon. “Now can I have my controller back?”
“What do you say?” Kanyon asked as she waved the controller teasingly just out of reach.
He rolled his eyes. “Please?”
Kanyon tossed it to him. “See ya around, Ricky.” She smiled, wondering how long it would take him to discover she had poured the remnants of a Red Bull drink in the battery compartment.
“Guilty,” Kanyon said simply as the door shut behind them.
“Agreed. But what tipped you off?”
Kanyon ticked the points off on her fingers. “One. Just like I said there would be, man-tronics, brand new, big flat screen–”
“How do you know it’s new?”
“Dust. No dust on the new TV and there was still a dust outline
where an older bulkier TV had been sitting recently.”
“Impressive,” Daylen said.
“Two,” Kanyon continued when she got into the driver’s seat, “he didn’t have the injuries Jeff had; no broken nose, no major bruises, just the small red mark from a love pat to make it look good. More importantly, he didn’t have cuff marks around his wrists. Which could be explained away by the fact he’s a big pansy ass and not seen as a threat, unlike Jeff. But the cuff thing, I don’t buy it. I think it’s human nature to fight, yank, pull, to try and get your hands free. Jeff fought; he nearly rubbed his wrists raw trying to get loose. Rick had nothing, not so much as a red mark. I think he knew he wasn’t going to get hurt and they were going to get rescued eventually.”
“Very impressive.” Daylen was truly amazed at Kanyon’s keen eye for details.
“Thank you. And lastly,” she wiggled her three raised fingers, “one has to wonder how he knew Lydia’s name?” She got a smile from Daylen. “How’d I do? Did I pass?”
“Straight A,” Daylen replied, now feeling like she had cheated on the big test, as she had simply walked up and read the guy’s guilt with her Seeker sight.
Kanyon clapped once and rubbed her hands together eagerly. “Alrighty, who’s jaw are we going to pop next?”
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” Daylen laughed, feeling excitement of her own knowing Kanyon was enjoying herself and enjoying time with her. For the moment, she ignored how that was the exact opposite reaction she had wanted Kanyon to have about the job.
“Yeah. This is way more fun in person than on a set. But it’d be way cooler if I had a real badge.” Kanyon wiggled her eyebrows.
