“She was pre-med, top grades. Her father’s a prominent surgeon,” Coyote replied.
“And she’s still missing? Are you thinking because she’s dead, or in hiding? You said the three girls were friends.”
“Don’t know which. One of her classmates said Gabby and her professor were very close. They shared a special camaraderie.” Coyote shrugged off the older detective’s speculation.
“All right.” Bitner shoved to his feet. “I’ve got your backs where the task force is concerned. Speaking of which, Captain wants an update.”
Further conversation revealed no insight and no corkscrew to insert into the knot of confusing evidence. Nolan’s instinct declared Keiki a victim, despite lack of proof to wipe doubt from his colleagues’ minds.
Meeting with the captain went as suspected. Both his boss and the Special Agent present wanted Keiki brought in for additional questioning.
The united front presented by three detectives argued with convincing evidence that interests would be better served and more information collected under present circumstances.
By the end of the day, Nolan had made little progress unless one counted the raging headache he sported. One thing he and his partner did agree on—Keiki withheld information, maybe not incriminating, it was something pertinent.
He’d seen the truth in her eyes. She hadn’t been involved in the recent deaths, which didn’t preclude her from harboring valid suspicions. Gaining her trust became a higher priority, and the means to accomplish that left a sour taste in his mouth.
It’s her life on the line.
In the parking lot, Coyote took his thoughts one step further. “Keiki looks up to you. I’ve seen that spark.”
“No, damn it.” He drew the line at breaking the coed’s heart.
As usual, a plate of food waited for him at Carolyn’s house. When he walked in, the smell of garlic and herbs reminded him of years gone by, when his fiancée waited for his return with a glass of wine and a smile promising a night of energetic activities.
Painful memories crashed through his mental shields and filled his soul with bittersweet souvenirs of a life not lived. Three years melted away in the blink of an eye.
“It’s time to let go and move on, Nolan. She would want that for you.” Decades of social work presented Carolyn with the ability to read people with incredible accuracy. She’d honed her skills and often used them.
“I… I don’t know how.” Clare had been the other half of his soul.
“Sure you do. You’re just resisting because the opportunity isn’t perfect. But, remember this, nothing in life is perfect just as no one is perfect.”
“She was.” He couldn’t bear to say her name.
“No, time has let you idolize her. As much as I loved my daughter, she had her faults. Finding you was the best thing she’d ever done. The tumor,” Carolyn wiped a tear from her cheek, “was meant to be. God’s will.”
Both remained quiet until Nolan finished eating and rinsed his plate before putting it in the dishwasher. “Where is she?”
Carolyn’s grin withheld a secret he didn’t have the energy to decrypt.
“Probably working. I’ve only known one other in my time who could remain so focused.” Shuffling over to the sink, she patted him on the back before retreating to the living room. “She needs help in moving the fridge back. You mind giving her a hand?”
“Ah, pest control day. Yeah, I got it.”
Solemn steps carried him out the door and to the outside stairs leading to the garage apartment. Carolyn’s words followed, mocking, taunting him with what he couldn’t attempt. A true relationship.
Keiki was a student who didn’t know what she wanted.
His conscience counter-argued that becoming an orphan had matured the young woman in ways nothing else could. Like himself at that age, she’d know what she wanted.
After meeting with the captain and hearing doubts voiced by others, he needed to reaffirm his thoughts on her involvement, which meant another round of verbal sparring, close proximity, and inhaling her down-to-earth scent. He had no idea what shampoo she used, but would invest in its stock once discovered.
On an average day, he’d fry his partner for contemplating what he was about to do. Nothing concerning their investigation was normal. Gaining Keiki’s trust was the most efficient way to get the inside information she hoarded. It was the best way to keep her safe.
Who was to say they couldn’t stay friends? Good friends, without benefits. He’d draw the line at physical contact.
A slight drizzle dampened his hair and chilled the nape of his neck as he knocked on her door. Through the window inset, he saw her startle, so enthralled with her project she’d lost awareness of her surroundings.
When she opened the door, it was like a breath of fresh air, until she frowned and barred his entry. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Carolyn asked me to help you replace the refrigerator.” She’d used her body to block both his entrance and line of sight, so he couldn’t see her current work in progress.
And so it begins.
“No need. I got it all put back. Thanks for the offer, though.” Her gaze twitched. A sheen of perspiration lined her forehead.
She was either hiding something or planning something.
Neither was acceptable.
“Wanna talk? I have information.” He let the carrot dangle and waited for her to take the bait. Forcing her hand would set his investigation back.
“Not right now. I’m in the middle of something, but I could drop over in the AM?”
Her laptop sat on the table, but the screen faced away from him. Was she doing her own covert surveillance? She’d get herself killed yet. He managed to keep disappointment from furrowing his brow.
The fact her eyes were red rimmed and puffy softened his approach. He couldn’t bring himself to bulldoze through her emotional turmoil after she’d been crying. He’d find another way.
She wouldn’t accept comfort, given her obvious snooping and determined stance. Opening his arms had been his first option, but he remained still and waited. Extreme and acute stress widened the tiniest cracks in her armor.
“Sure. I’m taking a couple hours comp time in the morning. Breakfast is at seven-thirty.” Without giving her time to refuse, he turned and trotted down the steps. Mealtime was something he could use to advantage, and besides, she could stand to gain ten or fifteen pounds.
Once home, he set out sweet sausage, eggs, and cheese, all the makings of a breakfast casserole. Something other than the packaged noodles seen in her apartment.
Chapter Sixteen
Keiki heaved a sigh of relief. Indecision had warred with determination in Nolan’s stare. For reasons she didn’t understand, he was determined to get into her temporary digs, which would’ve been fine if she hadn’t been using her drones to spy. Plus, she didn’t want him to see the picture on her bedside table.
The look in the detective’s eyes didn’t declare mistrust so much as curiosity, and heat. The latter introduced a complication she couldn’t afford.
He’s a cop.
If Carolyn had spotted her late-morning beeline through the side yard before lunch, she would’ve passed that along and he would’ve mentioned it. During lunch, nothing had been said, no sly or knowing looks to call her out. Checking on Horace would’ve provided a reasonable excuse for her excursion.
The dog personified energy while lifting her spirits, not to mention serving a specific purpose. She’d attached one of her mechanical babies to his collar and gained entrance to Nolan’s home.
From there, she’d toured the space and settled the small device to get the best view of his kitchen and main living area. Her fisheye lens distorted the view, but she got the gist of his movements from atop the kitchen soffit.
Afterward, she’d sat in the yard with Horace leaning against her side. Top requirement for her next apartment included a dog-friendly environment.
If Nolan discovered her i
ntrusion, she’d earn a free one room, block-walled apartment complete with iron bars. Without knowing him well, she knew he cherished privacy.
Switching between views on her laptop, she watched him enter his kitchen and greet the shepherd. Their mutual greeting warmed her heart and thawed a little bit of doubt surrounding his motives for helping.
Like many homeowners, he used the space above the cabinets for extra storage. A small spot between two wicker baskets provided a perfect angle. Guilt stabbed her chest for intruding, but she needed to stay a step ahead to identify the killer. Trusting the police to solve problems hadn’t worked out so well in the past.
The Harock family had taken her in after tragedy destroyed her world. They would never betray her or be involved with a killer. By comparison, she didn’t know the engineers well.
What she needed was access to the company’s engineers, a tight-knit group she conferred with on occasion. None stood out as a possible traitor or killer. Although to be fair, she’d never gotten close to them.
Local news carried the story of the professor in a follow up to Shelly’s murder. No details were given. Gabby had been close to her mentor, claiming him a friend of the family.
To the best of her knowledge and surveillance, no one had entered their apartment or Shelly’s dorm room. In fast forwarding through the footage covering the professor’s home, video had caught someone rushing from the back.
The professor wasn’t home, nor was he married or have a live-in girlfriend from what she could gather.
Dressed in a heavy coat and wearing a wide brimmed hat didn’t change her conviction the runner was a man. Scant moonlight couldn’t highlight enough details to suggest an identity. He did have the same build as the prick who’d attacked Shelly.
Dense forest hugged the twenty-yard perimeter on three sides of the professor’s home. The dwelling formed a pocket of sorts without close neighbors to make for a concealed entry and exit.
The burglar had huddled in the large coat and scurried through the woods where a path granted access to the county road.
Not once did he look up, instead watching every step he made.
“Cameras.” Keiki heaved a breath when the figurative lightbulb flashed over her head. “He’s protecting his identity from video footage.” She hadn’t noticed if the professor’s house had external security cameras. A little navigation pointed to one on each corner of the home. The fact the professor lived in her drone’s range equaled a bonus.
The time stamp was a little before midnight. In going back, she saw he’d been in the cottage for over two hours. “Doing what? Kicking back and watching a movie?” she wondered aloud.
Nothing made sense. She needed eyes and ears in the police world and knew her detective wouldn’t be forthcoming.
He might divulge information in hopes of receiving like in return.
Keiki had his number. He protected his witness to gain trust and insight.
She’d damn well figure it out for herself and then tell the cops. That way, they’d get it right and not draw her further into the quagmire of the investigation.
Sticky notes on the side of the screen held a to-do list. With Halloween a few weeks away, memories of elaborate decorations filled her mind. She missed her family more this time of year. Now, though, she missed her friends and felt adrift in a world which cared nothing for the lonely and desperate.
A cup of hot chocolate and muffin Carolyn insisted she take earlier had failed to settle her nerves. Keiki disguised her tears in the water and suds slipping down her body and mingling in the hot shower. Anything to relax for the long night ahead.
Sleep would not come, not with so much in the air and her life at stake. The killer wouldn’t stop, driven by finding something she didn’t have. He’d demanded details of an operation and the news reports specified some type of drug involved in Shelly’s death.
The thing was, her friends would have nothing to do with drugs or conspiracy to commit murder. No, a large chunk of the puzzle was missing.
With the knock-off drones implicating her in some grander scheme, Nolan and Coyote suspected her involvement despite weak evidence to the contrary. She had to find proof, something to convince.
Her designs were, at least in rough form, duplicated at Harock Industries’ research and development section. Any of the engineers could have modified her devices and used them to kill. They made the perfect assassin. Light, mobile, and able to get in and out of small places undetected.
Those and other like thoughts kept her tossing in bed long into the night. Nightmares arrived on the heels of sleep to resurrect remnants of fear and send her to the kitchen workspace. Nothing occupied her mind like work.
Gray shadows gave way to a sunrise painted in a soft palette of pastels but failed to dispel the sense of gloom shrouding her mind.
The near future included fear of mini death machines in strafing runs every time she stepped out of the apartment.
A cool shower completed the wake-up process and cleared her mind. Facing Nolan required sharp focus to avoid falling into the sense of security he obviously hoped to provide. Becoming parentless had forged her into a rock of mental stability once grief had worn the edges off vulnerability.
Pride in her parents for preparing her to face life with all its intricate deceptions and pitfalls lent hope that one day she’d do the same for her children. The idea of having a relationship equal to her parents gave hope that her life would settle down and she’d find love. Until then, she’d muddle through.
If the cop were in a different line of work, she’d like to count him a friend, but he didn’t trust her. Not yet. Then again, she hadn’t given him significant cause to do so.
Once she’d checked the early morning sky for mechanized traffic, the scenic route took her through the woods, preferred in part because of its serenity, but also because of the camouflage it offered. If luck prevailed, she could get two birds with one stone while at his house. She needed information and the man needed to loosen up.
Instead of approaching through the backyard, she circled to the front, hoping he hadn’t parked his car in the garage.
Bingo!
Sometimes fate cast good fortune her way. As in every other aspect of his life, Nolan took care of his front yard. Several bags of leaves leaned against the garage awaiting disposal.
The tiniest squeak betrayed his vehicle’s door opening. The hair on her nape rose.
“Looking for something?” Nolan stood in the front door as Horace came barreling out for a proper greeting.
She shut the door and stooped to accept her share of doggy kisses. “Oh, you know, just the usual. Bloody axes, knives, other evidence a serial killer might have around.”
He waited her out as Keiki squirmed.
“Just looking for my box of flash drives. They weren’t with the stuff you brought over.”
By letting the statement hang, she put him on the defensive, or so she hoped.
“Have you unpacked all your boxes?”
“Yeah. I guess I could’ve missed them. I’ll look again.” Without hesitation, she marched into his house and mused over the neatness. Small talk might negate the quasi-interrogation feel of her previous visit.
“Have a seat. Breakfast is ready and we can talk while we eat.”
Regardless of her intentions, it was clear he had other plans.
Fluid movements denied the insecurity of a novice cook. Before he’d set milk and juice on the table, the oven beeped and he transferred a baking dish from rack to table with a mitt underneath.
“Smells great. What’s in it?”
“Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I can’t cook.” The shadow of his arrogance could shelter a house.
“Your mom teach you?”
He looked away before taking a deep breath. “No. my fiancée did.”
Keiki looked around. He wouldn’t know Carolyn shared detailed descriptions of his nonexistent love life. “Oh. Am I intruding?”
“No. She’s… not here.” His expression belied the statement and revoked the possibility of questions.
“Okay.” Instead of waiting for him to get around to it, she decided to jump into the deep end. “How’s the investigation coming? Any news?”
“Hmm, we’re making progress, but initial steps are usually slow. We still haven’t been able to locate Gabby.”
He scrutinized every breath, every blink, and every aspect of her being. Doubt tinged with suspicion expanded and surrounded her, burning her to the core.
“If I knew where she was, I’d tell you. I’ve been looking, too. I want to know what’s going on just as much as you do. I’m the one who has one friend dead and another missing.” Anger and resentment crept into her voice. She couldn’t help it.
“Any ideas where she might go or who she might turn to in times of trouble?”
“As I’ve said. Me, family, and Shelly. The three of us have always been tight. Though a little less with Gabby since starting college.”
His look softened. “Tell me more about your family.”
The non sequitur took her off guard, which reverted her to autopilot. “My parents died during a carjacking. You already know that. You probably also know Grams is in a nursing home after a stroke. She’s all I have left, but doesn’t know who I am anymore.”
Nolan sucked in a quiet breath. “Sorry. That must be painful.” Solemn steps took him to the counter to pour coffee. Holding up a cup, he arched a brow in offer.
“Sugar, and I’ll add milk.”
“When did you start designing drones?” The cop settled in as if talking to an old friend.
“Not until I was a teenager. On my thirteenth birthday, Dad taught me how to solder parts together. We fixed little things at first. We progressed from there.”
“You made the kitchen table in your apartment?” he asked, pausing his cup halfway to his mouth.
“Yeah, and a bunch of odds and ends. The thing is, neither of my folks seemed disappointed when I turned to electronics. They supported me all the way.”
“As any good parent would. I wanted to ask—”
A Critical Tangent Page 16
