If only that were true. More of her belongings had been removed from the condo than Eric’s. Laptop, personal case files, and the clothing she’d worn the day of the explosion. Their answering machine for the landline was gone, the wires dangling next to the phone.
Thanks to the loyalty of her best friend and the current Charlotte Field office brown-noser, Agent Rogge, their condo sweep was not a part of Scott Jonas’ eleven o’clock news feed.
“You didn’t have to agree to a search. You could have made Robinson work for it a little.”
“What difference does it make? He got a warrant.” Amanda closed her eyes and tried to drown out the shouting recriminations, in her mind. Since proving her innocence wasn’t a quick project, she could have found a way to affirm Eric’s before agreeing. She could have sucked up all the panic coursing through her veins and actually been a cop. “I told him to get one.”
Silence reigned—all except for Layne Staley singing about Vietnam.
“Normally, I wouldn’t pry. Except, McKenna’s worried about you and so am I.”
“It’s really not worth talking about. Don’t you two have enough to think about with that baby on the way?”
He turned into a two-story brownstone and threw the car in park. “I see you’re not wearing the ring Eric picked out.”
Amanda ground her teeth together. They hadn’t discussed it since the day of the explosion. After this evening’s events, she doubted that would change. Admitting relief seemed like a betrayal, but she didn’t have answers to any of Eric’s questions. Least of all, that one.
Last year this wouldn’t have been a problem. She would have been parading the beautiful ring, he’d chosen for her, on her left ring finger. Insisted they set a date right away. Instead of the recent arguments, they may have shared a closeness.
“Any reason you’re stalling?” Jordan’s simple question should have been nonexistent.
Amanda rubbed a hand down the side of her face. Counted to three before she gave up. “So, Renee? My lead or yours?”
Jordan didn’t move, his gaze trapping her. “It’s okay to take some time to think things over.”
Whatever. No was still no. Never mind the amount of time elapsed between question and answer.
No? That was wrong. A sick swirl started in her chest and landed somewhere near her ankles, a full body cast of dread. “Great. I’ll lead, then.”
He had the gall to chuckle as he unlatched his seatbelt. “We love you, Amanda.”
If she didn’t get out of the car soon, she’d lose it. Not the good kind that released tension and bonded friends. The opposite. Robinson wasn’t anywhere nearby, which left Jordan as the closest target.
“You know that, right?” He asked.
The air turned suffocating. Out. Now. “I’m not sure what’s worse. The two of you together or apart.” She undid her seatbelt, exited the car and slammed the door.
“Wait up.”
She ignored him, afraid she’d say something she’d regret. Afraid all the things she wasn't ready to admit, might come pouring from her lips. Then what?
“Amanda. Come on.” In a few quick strides, Jordan caught up to her.
They climbed the steps in unison and he didn’t say anything for a moment. “Do whatever will make you happy.”
Yes, that would be easy-peasy in an alternate life. One where she wasn’t a cop and she'd never met Robinson. Maybe not even Eric. It might mean no Jordan or McKenna and, ergo, conversation void. She pinched the bridge of her nose. A world without those people didn't make sense.
“That’s super helpful. Excuse me while I go vomit.” She pressed her lips together. Miss Sass needed to take a backseat tonight. She was quickly turning into…
“When did you become a cynic?” Jordan asked.
“About the same time you became a hopeless romantic.”
A shadow fell across his expression and he rocked back on his heels. “This spring wasn’t easy on anyone, Amanda. McKenna’s disappearance changed everything. Add this latest episode of crime you’re dealing with, and anyone would question the things they want in life. It’s normal.”
A denial sat on the tip of her tongue, but wouldn’t come. They worked in law enforcement. They had a close-up view on how the world wasn’t safe or fair. The lines between good and bad weren’t always clear cut. This last year was a direct hit. And her battle ship only had so much time remaining before it sunk and she was left scrambling for a nonexistent life boat.
“Sometimes, it just takes time to get your balance back,” he said. Then he pushed the illuminated doorbell. “And other times, you have to know when to move on.”
The thought of either left her cold, as if she’d discarded her clothing in zero-degree weather. Before she could dive into the meaning, a girl somewhere around Renee’s age opened the door wearing a tank top and Abercrombie sweat pants.
“Can I help you?”
“We’re looking for Renee Zimmer. Can we come inside?” Jordan asked.
“Are you friends of hers?”
Jordan took out his credentials. The girl’s eyes zeroed in on it and then came back to them, worry surfacing across her face. “Is she in trouble?”
“Is she here or not?” Amanda’s voice came out snippier than she’d intended.
If Jordan noticed, he didn’t let on.
Her mouth dropped open and then closed. “Um, yeah. Come on in.” She opened the door wider. “Let me go get her.”
She left them standing in the living room. An overhead light, illuminated the small space. A couch that had seen better days and an oversized chair filled it. The T.V. in the corner, played a Jim Carrey movie she’d not yet seen. The space was tidy, if a bit cramped.
The creak of the stairs, alerted them to Renee’s presence before she came into sight. Blonde hair was piled on top of her head, her attire much the same as her roommate’s, except she’d thrown a zip up sweatshirt over her tank top. Glasses enlarged vibrant blue eyes, filled with questions.
She stopped in front of them and chewed her bottom lip. “Stacy said you were looking for me?”
“We won’t take much of your time, Renee. I’m Agent Bening and this is Detective Nettles.” Jordan said.
“I know who you are.” Renee’s eyes flicked to the scar on Jordan’s skull, then dashed away. “You’re Baker Jackson’s friends.”
He nodded and then pointed toward the couch. “Can we sit?”
“Um, yeah, of course.”
Jordan took the spot near the younger woman on the couch, while Amanda opted for the chair.
“We’re going to cut to the chase, Renee,” she said. “When’s the last time you were inside Agent Robinson’s apartment?”
Her eyebrows slammed together and then relaxed as she looked between the two of them. “Um, yesterday. W-why?”
“And you have your own key?”
“Yes. I watch Ariana in the afternoons during the week.”
“How long have you been doing that?” Jordan asked.
“About a year and a half, I guess. She’s a great kid. Did…did something happen?”
Amanda ignored the question. “Ever notice anything or anyone out of place?”
Renee ran a hand across the tip of her nose. “What do you mean? Like somebody loitering?”
“Anything that didn’t seem right. Could be a person hanging around or something smaller.”
Renee squeezed the clasped hands in her lap. “I’ve never noticed anything. Are Baker Jackson and Ariana okay?”
“They’re fine, Renee.” Jordan’s voice came out in soothing tone. Always the good guy, that one.
A whoosh of air came from Renee’s lungs and her face turned a splotchy red. She sniffled.
Oh, great.
“I-I’m sorry.” One hand flicked under her glasses and wiped. “I just know he’s been investigating the explosion at the stadium and I started picturing the worst.”
“He told you that?” Amanda asked.
“No.”
She swallowed, audibly. “But it’s not hard to figure out. He came home Wednesday, full of dirt, and his suit had a few rips in it. He works for the FBI. I watch the news. It’s not hard to put two and two together.”
“How would you describe your relationship with Agent Robinson,” she asked.
Redness covered the other woman’s whole face, now. She looked down at her hands. “I’m just his babysitter.”
Jordan glanced at Amanda. He placed his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on top of folded hands. Then his attention centered back on the other woman. “Have you been here all day?”
She looked up then. “Yeah. Mostly.”
“Alone?” Jordan asked.
The younger woman shook her head and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “My roommate, Stacy, has been here.”
He flipped open a note pad. “Can you give me specific times?”
“Am I in trouble?”
“Should you be?” Amanda asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Good.” Jordan click his pen. “Give us a rundown of your day, today. We’ll verify it, and then we will be out of your hair.”
“Okay.” She clamped her hands tighter, so the tips started turning red. “I think I left the house around nine this morning.”
“You think?” Amanda interrupted. “We need as exact as you can give us.”
Jordan shot a brief slow-your-roll glance at her. If Renee had any part of today’s events, they had to know. The sooner, the better.
“Nine. I left the house at nine. I went to the gym.”
“Which one?”
“Snap Fitness on First and Cypress.”
“You were there, what, an hour, two?”
“Probably—I mean, an hour-and-a-half. I came straight home and I’ve been here since.”
“Thanks, Renee.” Jordan flipped his notepad shut and stood. Amanda followed suit. “We’ll let you know if we need any other information. We’ll see ourselves out.”
“I’m going to need the key to Agent Robinson’s place, first,” Amanda said.
Wariness deepened the color of Renee’s eyes, her facial expression following suit. “Maybe I should give it to him directly.”
Good, girl. If she wouldn’t give it to them, she probably hadn’t given it to anyone else either. Not intentionally, anyway.
“See that you do.” She hoped her voice held the right amount of authority to have Renee running straight to Robinson’s apartment, to surrender it. Maybe she’d tell him something she hadn’t told them. “Here's my card. If you think of anything else, call.” She handed the younger girl the business card with the CMPD logo on it.
When they were back in the vehicle and backing out of the driveway, Jordan asked, “You going to tell me what that was about?”
“Just doing my job.”
His lips pressed together. “I’m gonna assume this is all related to the explosions on Wednesday. What does Renee have to do with it?”
“You want to verify those details or should I?”
Jordan shook his head. “Investigating this mess would be easier, if either of you would cooperate. It’s not like you to be this secretive.”
Jordan didn’t know about half of the work she’d done for Robinson and she didn’t plan to enlighten him. “Talk to Robinson.”
“That’s about as productive as talking to a brick wall,” he grumbled.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
He never should have touched her.
Three days later, the thought still circled in Robinson’s brain, like a vulture closing in on a dying beast. One minute, the morning’s events had outrage pumping through his veins. The next, Amanda’s silky skin had been against his cupped palm.
With her boyfriend ten steps away.
Biggest cliché ever. Sitting right here.
“Hand me the casing.” Jordan stood on a ladder, installing a mini-camera inside the light fixture in the foyer. One of ten. He’d already put sensors on the doors and windows in Robinson’s apartment.
The whole idea of twenty-four-hour surveillance made his skin crawl. The fact that Jordan would be the monitor, made it slightly less intrusive, but still embarrassing.
The white plastic that housed the device, fit between Robinson’s thumb and forefinger. He placed it in the other man’s waiting palm.
How was he supposed to catch a guy he couldn’t keep out of his apartment? Changing the locks would only act as a deterrent for a small amount of time.
“This system is rigged to send an alarm through a wireless signal, instead of using the typical analog phone system,” Jordan said. He inserted a battery into the device, so small he had to use a tweezers. “Any activity is sent directly to me, whether it’s a low battery or a tripped sensor. The only alarm will be on my end, unless the user specifies different needs.
“Based on our input, it trips a program on my computer, or my cell phone if I’m mobile, which sends out an alert to nine-one-one. And a phone call to the property owner. The owner can then answer and follow the prompts. A code and security phrase is required just like normal.
“Of course, McKenna and I developed the standard alarm system for those who would like to have an added sense of security. In this case, we want to catch this guy, not alert him.”
Robinson rubbed a hand across the corner of his chin. “How long have you guys been working on this?”
He climbed down the ladder. “McKenna’s had a lot of spare time on her hands.”
Good point.
“You put the same system in at Amanda’s?”
“Yeah, but it took me twice as long, because she asked so many questions and then insisted on a couple of changes. They weren’t half bad, so I implemented them here, too. I might have to try and steal her from CMPD, if we get this business off the ground.” He connected some wires to a small black box hidden under the island and inserted another battery.
“Speaking as your boss, I don't like the sound of losing my best agents. As your friend—don't worry. It will happen.”
A smile shot across Jordan's face as he fiddled with his laptop. “Relax. You’ll have adequate notice.” He nodded toward the screen in front of them. “Take a look.”
Two silhouettes of reds and oranges stood in place. Near the exact spot they were, surrounded by greens and blues. “Infrared.”
“All the sensors are dual infrared detectors and have night vision capabilities.” Jordan scanned through a couple different shots of the apartment. “We can monitor each room without actually seeing you, if that’s what you choose.” With a flip of his wrist, they were in color. “Keep in mind there’s full audio and whatever this system is set to capture, will be the only thing viewable at a later date.”
“So, full color would be optimal.”
Jordan nodded. “It senses movement and can actually tell the difference between heat signatures. All it takes is a little set up with each family member.”
Wow. Goodbye Jordan and McKenna. “The beginnings of smart technology. So, if you showed up, this thing is programmed to know the difference and alert the monitor.”
Jordan gave a nod. “And the police, if we program the parameters in that fashion. You have a unique situation, so we bypassed the normal modes.”
Nothing about this system was normal.
“In the future, we'd set it up to go into home mode when you're inside the house and away whenever you leave. Right now, I'm going to leave it to capture twenty-four-seven. You can turn this feature off in areas like the bathroom and bedroom, if you choose.”
“Well, thank God for that.”
“Problem is, we aren’t done designing the user module for this type of system. So, if you want to change anything, I’ve got to know about it.”
“That’s an interesting way to discover nocturnal habits.” Not that he had any. Kara’s death had forced him to take a hard look at his life. What he saw was unimpressive and sad. A string of meaningless relationships colored the picture in sha
des of bluish-gray. Thanks to a heart-to-heart with Jordan, brought on by the other man’s, near invalid status at the time, Robinson saw the world in a whole new way.
“Amanda said the same thing.” Jordan said.
Of course Miss Sassy had.
“How is Nettles?” Robinson bit his tongue the minute the words were out of his mouth. He blamed his lack of couth on her absence from his life, for the last three days. It meant she hadn’t received any threatening calls. He’d spent more than a fair share of his time thinking about her, which made keeping his distance so much harder.
Unless he wanted to be her sideshow forever, he had to get it together. He’d never been a man who chased after unattainable women and he couldn’t start now. Not with their lives, his job and the general well-being of Charlotte at stake.
The FBI Director, Harlan Stotts, wanted assurances Robinson would stop at nothing to see this terrorist brought down.
I don’t care what bridges you have to burn, Agent Robinson. Get it done. Yesterday.
The man had never been the warm-fuzzy sort. After heading the Charlotte office for seven years, Robinson liked to think he could unfurl whatever feathers Director Stotts had ruffled.
This was different.
Jordan gave him a knowing smile. “Usually, you talk to her more than I do.”
“Been busy. Just thought I’d check in.” Between work and spending time with Ariana, he didn’t have room for much else, anyway. The little sleep he fit in alternated between sensual dreams of Amanda—the silkiness of her hair in his hands—and dark nightmares. Both left him restless and exhausted.
No amount of coffee would fix it.
He needed to wrap up this case and move on, before sleep deprivation got the better of him. After he opened his own laptop, he played the video he’d been reviewing for days.
“Is this normal curiosity?”
“Thought that would be obvious.” Robinson watched the same loop of Amanda going into the Rainforest Café, and then appearing to come out minutes later. There was something they were missing. And he needed to find it before Stotts took this case out of his hands and placed the blame on Amanda's shoulders.
“You do remember she’s not available, right?” Jordan braced himself on the edge of the island, his eyes locked on Robinson. “Practically engaged.”
DISCONNECT (The Bening Files Book 2) Page 19
