by Anna Sugden
It took all of her energy to expel the thoughts. Though she was finally able to look at her computer screen and see more than letters swimming around in Times New Roman and Calibri Light, she was left feeling empty and frustrated. Was that how she’d left Ben the other night? Was she sorry she had?
After several minutes, Ben cleared his throat. “Find anything interesting?”
“Maybe.” Delia quickly clicked out of the link that led to a blank screen on the state police website and then moved on to another. She had to find something. She wasn’t about to tell him what she’d really been thinking while she was supposed to be researching.
“Hopefully, we’re not searching for the same thing,” he said. “I just did a general search on Trevor’s name.”
“We’re not. I’m looking at his former post.” She scanned down the page. “Wait. Listen to this. Did you know that the Manistique Post never technically closed?”
Ben partially stood and leaned forward as if he would be able to see over the top of her laptop. “It was on the list of post closures.”
“But it says right here that it was just consolidated with the St. Ignace Post.” She tapped the screen several times for emphasis. “Even the old building is still what’s called a ‘detachment post.’ It’s closed to the public, but troopers can begin and end their shifts there.”
“So why was Trevor transferred to Brighton?”
She nodded. “He said he was transferred because the post closed, which we now know technically isn’t true. And the total number of officers in the state is the same, so there weren’t even any head-count cuts.”
Ben pressed his lips together, squinting. “You know, this is one of those things that might be explained away with something as simple as the MSP needing to shift a few officers to rebalance numbers according to population shifts or something.”
“But do we have that explanation yet?”
He shook his head.
“So it’s something, right? More than we have on anyone else so far.”
“It’s something.” He pulled a notebook from his bag and jotted down a few notes.
“Did you find anything?” She leaned forward toward his computer just as he had done to hers.
“Not yet. Only that there are dozens of uncreative parents in Michigan who gave their babies the same names. And about fourteen different arrest records for one of those pay sites.”
“Also, we don’t know if he has always lived in Michigan.”
He nodded. “Looks like I have my new assignment.”
“It would be great if we had access to the personnel records.”
At that, Ben shut his laptop with a click. “Don’t even think of trying to dig through those. You’ve taken enough risks for one week.”
She considered arguing, but nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t push my luck.”
Taking his closed laptop as a signal that he was finished digging for the night, she stowed her own computer in the bag.
“So tell me,” Ben began as she straightened, “why kids?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, surprised he’d returned to the earlier subject.
“Why do you specifically want to work with child victims when there are so many types of targeted groups? The elderly. Gays. Women.”
Delia gave the loosest shrug she could muster, though every muscle in her body was tight. Should she tell him it would be like fighting for her own cause every time she made an arrest? That each conviction would be like Lloyd finally receiving the steel bars of justice? Could she ever say those words out loud?
“They’re all vulnerable groups, but children are the most defenseless. And the people who target them are the vilest of any. They treat them as prey.” She should have stopped there, but she couldn’t. “Someone needs to stand up for them. Society owes them a chance to grow up without being the target of someone else’s sick perversions.”
“So you want to focus on child predators?”
“Maybe.” It probably wasn’t a good idea to be too specific. “There are so many areas. Kidnappings. Violent attacks. Sexual abuse. Online predators.”
“You could deal with any of those types of cases locally or even through joint task forces with other local agencies.”
“But I want to make a bigger statement. To focus on that exclusively. The big guns. The FBI Violent Crimes Against Children program.”
When he grinned, she knew she’d said too much. Would he ask why it meant so much to her? When she made up some answer, would he know she was lying?
“No one can say the lady doesn’t have goals.”
“Go big or go home.” She chuckled, but it sounded awkward, even to her.
She appreciated the timely interruption as a female voice came over the loudspeaker, announcing that the library would close in fifteen minutes.
“So go home it is,” Ben said with a grin. “At least for tonight.”
He tucked his cord into his computer bag as Delia slipped on her coat and pulled her bag over her shoulder. She waited for him to grab his coat.
“You’re not going to make some crack about me being an FBI wannabe?”
He tugged a scarf from his pocket and wrapped it around his neck. “Why would I do that?”
“Because it’s probably an unrealistic goal. Or because I want to do something beyond working with the state police.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
He started for the stairs, and she fell into step behind him. When he reached the ground floor, he spoke over his shoulder.
“We all have our own reasons why we chose to go into law enforcement.”
He watched her for so long that she was convinced he knew exactly what her inspiration had been. She held her breathing, waiting for him to announce it. But as they started through the sliding glass doors, he finally continued as if he hadn’t just given her a heart attack.
“Some of us, like me, have something to prove or need to give something back.” He shrugged. “You know my dad and all. Some of us just want to make a difference.”
“That’s what I want to do. Make a difference.”
He nodded. “And you will. You have good goals. Honorable goals. It takes a special kind of person to work in that type of law enforcement. Just don’t be in too much of a hurry to get there. There are probably a few lessons you need to learn first.”
“Um, thanks.”
It was a lame response to all of the things he’d said, but she was too overwhelmed to say something more profound. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone believing her, let alone believing in her. Ben offered that belief so effortlessly, as if he didn’t know what an honor it was.
The parking lot wasn’t as dark as the one the other night, its lights all in working order, but Delia felt awkward anyway, from the moment they stepped outside. Would Ben walk her to her car again? Would he take her in his arms as he had before? Would she beg him to if he didn’t?
“Which way is your car?”
They started in the direction she pointed. It wouldn’t do to argue with him that she didn’t need him to walk her there. She didn’t really want to anyway. He didn’t touch her, didn’t come close to touching her, but she still felt the warmth of his nearness.
Once she reached her car and opened the door, she smiled as she caught him checking the backseat. For once, it was nice having someone looking out for her. Only after she was in the car with the door closed and the engine running did he start toward his own car.
She waited until he was inside his SUV before starting out of the parking lot. Though the heat was beginning to warm the car’s interior, she suddenly felt cold and alone. Maybe it was good that he’d given her a wide berth tonight. After the sweet things he’d said to her, she was feeling vulnerable, and this time it involved far more than her body.
She might have just fallen in love with him a little bit.
* * *
“TROOPER MORGAN, DO you have a minute?”
Delia stoppe
d just inside the door leading to the station parking lot. So close. She’d almost made it through one more day of working under a magnifying glass without messing up and getting pinned like the rest of the insects, but her good luck may have just run out.
Pasting on a smile, she turned to find Lieutenant Campbell waiting behind her. He was already out of uniform and wearing his coat, but he didn’t appear to be in any rush to go out into the two inches of snow that had collected on the parking lot since dinnertime. The uncomfortable feeling she’d had all during her shift settled at the base of her neck.
“Sure, Lieutenant. What’s up?”
“You said you weren’t able to go to Casey’s tonight, so I wanted to catch you before you left.”
She was caught, all right. But in case she was overreacting, which had become her habit these days, she fussed with her coat buttons and waited as if she had casual conversations with her boss every day.
“Yeah, I’m just a little tired tonight. Maybe I’m coming down with something.” She held the front of her neck between her thumb and forefinger to suggest that her throat hurt.
Scott watched her for so long that she had to hold herself in place to keep from squirming.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re continuing to include Kensington Metropark in your patrols.”
That seemed like an odd thing to say given the way he’d been studying her, but she was grateful. “Yes, I’ve been making a pass through all the main roads at least twice each shift though I haven’t seen much new activity there. It’s been pretty empty after dusk. Just a few die-hard ice-skaters and ice fishermen and a handful of cross-country skiers brave enough to ski paths at dusk.”
“I would expect that as cold as it’s been. With so little snow, I bet the toboggan run and the sledding hills are deserted even at the beginning of your shift.”
She nodded. “I haven’t seen anyone there. Maybe a few tomorrow.” She tilted her head toward the door leading to outside where the snow continued to fall.
He pressed his thumb to the base of his nose, closing his eyes and then opening them again. “I just feel like we’re missing something there.”
“I know. Captain Polaski told me that no new leads have been discovered on the car we found there a few weeks ago. But someone went to a lot of trouble removing the plates and several sets of VIN numbers before setting it ablaze so that even if it didn’t burn completely, it would be untraceable.”
“All we know for certain is that the fire was intentionally set,” he said. “Fire investigators found accelerants.”
Delia shook her head. “If someone wanted to dump a car, there are plenty of other places to do that. Places where it might not have been discovered for months.”
“Yeah, I keep going back to that, too. Just keep an eye on the place. I know both Milford and South Lyon police departments have increased patrols, in addition to park police, but we need to continue to watch.” He turned to the map on the squad room wall and gestured widely to the Kensington area. “We don’t want more trouble there. It’s a nice place for families, including mine. We have to make sure it stays a place where parents want to take their kids.”
“I’ll stay on it. Maybe I’ll add another trip through during each shift.”
“Great. Thanks. Well, you head home then and get some rest.”
“I will.” Clearing her throat for effect, she started toward the door again.
“Just a second, Delia.”
She stopped again, noting the superior officer’s switch to her first name.
“You’ve been spending more time with the rest of the team lately.” He glanced over his shoulder as if to ensure that no one else could overhear. “Ben would be glad to know you’re making the effort. He always said you just needed some encouragement. You’re becoming a very solid member of our team.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant.”
Strange, a few weeks ago, she would have loved hearing that, especially if it meant good marks on her record. Now she didn’t know how to feel. She wasn’t really a team member. More of a mole infiltrating it. The team wasn’t really a team, either, when one of its members was trying to destroy another.
“And Delia?”
She’d only taken a step, but she stopped again, this time looking over her shoulder.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Whatever you’re doing to help Ben, please be careful.”
For a few heartbeats, Delia only stared. How obvious had she been? And how many people knew? No point in lying now, she nodded, pushed open the door and practically ran to her car.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE DARKNESS WAS so complete in the parking lot near Kensington Metropark’s Possum Hollow picnic area that Ben had to flip back on his headlights just to make sure he wasn’t there alone. It took him several seconds before he located Delia’s car. Even in this remote area that formed a dead end off Park Route 4, Delia had managed to find the most hidden spot in the whole lot. So much for driving in unnoticed.
He had just put the car in Park when a person wearing a heavy coat, who he hoped was Delia, popped out of the other car and banged on the window of his SUV. When he unlocked the door, she jerked it open, allowing only enough light for him to confirm her identity beneath the coat’s hood, before she slid inside and pulled the door closed behind her.
“Now drive.”
“Why? This place is so remote. No one will see us here.”
“Just drive. And keep your headlights off unless you absolutely need them.”
“I’m going to need the lights.” But as a concession to her, he didn’t turn them on right away as he turned the car around and started for the parking lot exit. When they reached the road, he flicked them back on. “Sorry. I can’t see the road.”
She didn’t answer as she stared out the windshield and pulled off her hood. Even with her gloves on and her coat buttoned to her throat, she shivered, despite the fact that he had the heat cranked and the fancy seat warmers set to maximum bun toasting. After flipping the switch for four-wheel drive, he retraced the directions she’d given him earlier back to one of the park’s secondary entrances.
“How did you know to send me this way into the park?” he asked as he turned onto a narrow dirt road. “Doesn’t the whole park close at ten?”
“You told me to patrol the park,” she answered in flat tones.
“Right. You probably know all the cool paths by now.”
She didn’t answer as they continued down the road that didn’t even have tire tracks to guide them.
After a few long minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore. “So, you never really told me what happened at work.”
“What didn’t happen?” She puffed up her cheeks and blew out a breath.
“Want to be more specific?”
She only crossed her arms and turned toward the passenger window, tapping her booted foot so vigorously that her bucket seat shimmied.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter with his gloved hands, doing his best to keep the car out of the ditch. “If you don’t tell me what happened, I can’t help you.”
“You can’t do anything to help, anyway.”
Ben swallowed, feeling that low blow just where she’d intended it to hit. “That might be true, but talking about it might help.”
Still, she didn’t say anything as she cranked the volume on the oldies radio station, and John Mellencamp crooned about something hurting “so good.” But there was nothing good about what she’d said or how he felt, knowing that whatever had happened to her was his fault. It hurt, and that was all. Worse than that, she was right. He couldn’t do anything about it.
Finally, he shut off the radio, the clock providing the only light in the car’s interior.
“Delia, you called me.”
“I know.” She sighed. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
His spark of excitement that she’d finally called on him for help was doused as he realized that there wasn’t exact
ly anyone else she could tell. Just past an area of heavy brush, he caught sight of a narrow drive. He pulled off the road and stopped, but he left the car idling. He couldn’t afford to startle her by shutting off the engine.
“It was nothing. I’m probably overreacting. Again. It’s just that lately it feels as if the walls at the post have eyes...and ears.”
“What happened? Did you find out something new about Trevor? The Manistique Post maybe? Or did you figure out something about one of the others and manage to single-handedly break the case?”
Her chuckle was so low and throaty that he felt it deep in his gut. Too deep, especially when what he should have been feeling was concern for Delia. Only concern. But how was he supposed to do that while the two of them were sitting there in his SUV?
Alone. And in the dark.
“Well, there were a few things, but that’s not it. One of them figured out what I’m doing.”
Ben’s breath caught, earlier off-topic thoughts vanishing. “Who? What did they find out?” His pulse pounded in his ears, his hands slippery inside his gloves.
“That I’ve been helping you. It was Scott.”
“Scott?” He heard the chuckle in his own voice, so he held no hope that she’d missed it.
“What’s so funny?”
“We shouldn’t be surprised that he figured it out. He’s my best friend at the post. And I already told you he’s the one who offered to help clear my name.”
“But if he figured it out, how do we know the others haven’t, as well? I already spent the whole shift feeling as if I was being watched. Even out on patrol.”
Just the thought of it settled like a rock in his stomach. “We don’t know that, Delia. And don’t you think since Scott offered his help, he might have been watching more closely than the others?”
That sudden shift of hers must have been a shrug.
“Maybe,” she conceded finally. “He told me whatever I was doing to help you to just be careful.”
Ben peeled his gloves off his sweaty hands. “Sounds like good advice. Anyway, it could have been worse. It could have been Polaski.”
