by Aimée Thurlo
“I don’t like playing by the rules, that’s true, but my cases always hold up in court,” she said. “I won’t do anything to jeopardize this case, sir. There’s too much at stake.”
Laura could see the chief still wasn’t convinced. “You’ve got trouble brewing here. If it turns out that the suspect has been operating right under your nose for months and you’ve failed to use every resource you have to close the case…” She allowed the sentence to trail off and waited.
Wright regarded her thoughtfully. “I want to check out some things first. Then I’ll make my decision.”
Laura reached into her wallet and pulled out a card. “That’s my supervisor at NSI. He was the Special-Agent-in-Charge of the D.C. Bureau office for seven years before leaving the FBI. He’s got more commendations than most of us get in a lifetime of service. His name is Charles Westin.”
“I know who he is.”
“He’ll vouch for me. My methods aren’t conventional, Chief Wright, but that’s exactly what you’ll need to catch this creep. He’s around here, whether you like it or not, and may even consider Three Rivers his home.”
“Wait in the bullpen,” Wright snapped. He stepped into the hall and called Travis.
Travis came into the office, sat down and waited.
Wright rested his elbows on the desk and leaned forward. “Let’s say I accept her offer. Is there anything between you and Laura Perry that could compromise the case or this department?”
Travis met his boss’s gaze. “We were friends once, but I haven’t seen her since high school. Our lives haven’t intersected since—not until she showed up at my home this morning.”
Wright leaned back, his expression revealing nothing. “All right. I’m going to do some more checking on Ms. Perry, then we’ll talk.”
Travis met Laura in the bullpen and saw that she’d struck up a conversation with their computer tech, Lester Crosley. The man came in periodically to update their security and backup systems. Despite the heat outside, the guy was impeccably dressed in a white shirt and tie and his company’s bright yellow jacket.
Travis walked over and joined them. “What’s up, guys?”
“Ms. Perry speaks my language,” Lester said.
“I love computers, and I’m always interested in security features. These days a good firewall is an absolute necessity. The problem is finding the best one for each system,” she said.
Travis glanced at Crosley. His head was shaved bald, a tough-guy look Travis had seen a lot in the marines, and he looked fit, as if he worked out. Only the paleness of his skin marked him as the proverbial computer geek.
Although Lester had been servicing the city’s computer networks for months, this was the first time Travis had seen him do more than grunt when spoken to. Laura had worked her usual magic. The woman had a way about her, not to mention a smile that could melt an iceberg.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here,” Crosley said, giving Laura a wide smile.
“I’m new in town,” she answered. “I’m here on business.”
“Computer related? IT consultant, maybe?”
“No, don’t worry. I’m not competition,” she said, chuckling.
“I can hold my own when it comes to computers but I’m no programmer.”
“If you’re going to be here for a few days, how about letting me show you around, and maybe take you to dinner?” he asked.
Laura smiled. “Thanks for the offer, but my schedule’s pretty tight. I’ll be putting in long hours before I head back home.”
“Maybe on your next trip then,” he said, rolling his shoulder and bending his neck to the left then to the right, as if working out the cricks. “Just in case you find a break in your schedule,” he added, handing her his business card.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the card and putting it in her pocket.
Travis gave her a nudge. “Come on. It’s time for us to put our heads together and get some work done on this case.”
As they moved over to his desk, she glanced around. “Where’s Crusher?”
“My guess is that he’s in the break room with Sergeant Miller. She buys him tortilla chips—baked, not fried. He loves those—and her.”
As Travis finished speaking, Laura saw the big dog walking down the hall in their direction. Next to him was a sturdy-looking uniformed officer with a touch of gray in her cropped hair.
“I borrowed your dog, Detective Blacksheep. I needed him to help me track down some missing chips.”
Travis laughed as the sergeant walked away. “Crusher, down,” he ordered, pointing beneath the desk. The dog, still licking his chops, lay down with a contented sigh.
Laura waited for Travis to tell her what aspect of the case he wanted to discuss, but Travis didn’t say anything.
“I thought you wanted to compare notes,” she said. Then, with a mischievous grin, she added, “Or were you just jealous?”
Travis looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I think you’re having a high-school flashback. Did somebody slip a note into your locker after homeroom?”
“Nice deflection, but you didn’t answer the question, did you?” she challenged with a tiny smile.
“Chief Wright’s instincts are right on target. You’re trouble,” he grumbled.
“Let’s focus on our suspect,” she said, growing somber. “When it comes to bad guys, he’s one of the worst I’ve ever seen.”
“Just between you and me,” he asked in quiet voice, “how sure are you that you weren’t followed to my place?”
“From Albuquerque, a hundred percent. Think about it. The guy would have had to follow me to the airport, get a ticket on my flight at the last minute, deplane, rent a car and keep up—all without me knowing about it.”
“Maybe he found out when you were arriving, then followed you from the airport, or your motel, over to my place. Think hard. Did anyone know you were coming to see me?” Travis asked. Then, eyes narrowing, he added, “Come to think about it, how did you know where I live?”
“I confess,” she answered with a tiny smile, “I used NSI’s assets. That type of information is out there if you know where to look.”
He nodded, lost in thought. “Okay, let’s get back to the problem. The suspect knew your whereabouts, but you’re pretty sure he didn’t tail you. Maybe he planted a tracking device in your vehicle.”
“Unlikely. My car was a rental, remember? He would have had to have known which car I’d be given, and considering I waited till the last second to rent, that would have been nearly impossible,” she answered. “But once he knew I was in Three Rivers, following me to your place wouldn’t have been that hard. He could have tailed me with his lights off after I turned off the main highway. There’s only one route from town to your place. Right?”
He nodded slowly. “Unless you’re on foot or take a helicopter. We’ll just have to wait and see what the crime-scene team finds in the wreckage before we go any further.”
“Of course, there could be other possibilities we haven’t thought of yet,” she said slowly.
He nodded, considering it silently. At long last he looked up and met her gaze.
She felt the impact of that one look all through her. She’d never met anyone who could spark her senses to life like Travis could. She looked away, knowing this wasn’t the time or place for romantic notions. Yet something inside warned her that some temptations weren’t easily dismissed or ignored.
“Blacksheep!” Wright called from down the hall. “My office.”
Laura stood, too, but Chief Wright shook his head. “I need a word with my detective first.”
Laura sat back down and gave Travis a smile of encouragement. “Looks like you’re up. Remember, don’t lead with your chin,” she said, remembering Nick’s advice to his little brother one afternoon long ago when she’d watched him teach Travis how to fight. Funny how some images from the past popped so easily into her head now that she was back.
Trav
is laughed, also remembering the incident. “I’ve learned a few things since then.”
She watched him walk away confidently, each stride filled with purpose. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He was his own man now, and a very appealing one at that. Those shoulders—not to mention those world-class buns—could add a real spark to anyone’s daydreams.
Laura looked down at Crusher, who was watching her curiously. “Okay, busted. You caught me checking out your owner. So let me bribe you into staying silent,” she said, petting the dog, who gave her a panting grin. “Want to go outside for some fresh air?”
His ears perked up and he stood.
“Mister C., you and I need to get to know each other a little better,” she said, reaching for the leash on Travis’s desk. “I have a feeling we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”
Chapter Three
Wright sat behind his desk, staring in the general direction of the trophy case on the north wall.
Travis waited. Trying to rush the boss was never a good idea. He did things on his own time.
“I spoke to Ms. Perry’s supervisor at the agency. Overall, he speaks highly of her. She’s competent and has a very high completion rate with her job assignments. But he also warned me that she tends to be overly proactive and often puts herself in danger by confronting troublemakers without proper backup,” Wright said.
Travis nodded. None of this came as a surprise to him.
“On the other hand, she’s also the only person we know who has encountered the suspect and walked away. She also has experience dealing with these types of crimes. That might help us catch and ID this individual somewhere down the line. That’s why I’m assigning her to you, Detective. You take time to think things through and that might cancel out her impulsiveness.”
“What exactly will her job include?” he asked, not liking the sound of it already.
“Ms. Perry will accompany you as a civilian observer. She’s not a police officer with our department, so she’s not going to carry a weapon while in the company of an on-duty officer. I don’t care if she’s got the permits.”
“What’s my assignment?”
“The serial killer isn’t our business—not officially anyway. You’ll be investigating the bombing incident.”
“Understood.”
“One more thing,” Wright said. “Ms. Perry has a reputation for playing things close to her chest. You can bet she’s got other information she hasn’t shared with us. Keep that in mind while you’re working with her.” Wright walked to the door, saw Laura detaching Crusher’s leash and signaled her to come in.
After she sat down, Wright continued, “Ms. Perry, you’ll be assigned to Detective Blacksheep. You’ll ride along with him, but you’ll have no authority or jurisdiction. For that reason you will not be armed whenever you accompany Detective Blacksheep.” He leaned back in his chair and gave her a level look. “I’ll expect you to follow Detective Blacksheep’s orders, and should you encounter the suspect you came here to find, Detective Blacksheep will take the lead.”
“To help you catch this killer, I’m going to need a little more leeway, sir,” she began.
“You have none,” he said flatly. “You heard my conditions.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
Laura walked out of Chief Wright’s office moments later, Travis by her side. “He’s convinced that rules are everything.”
“Without rules, there’s only chaos, no progress.”
“The Travis I knew once was the patient sort but he also had his cowboy moments. I remember one night after a basketball game when some guys from Cliffside High jumped one of our pep-band members behind the gym. You ran right into the thick of it and took on six guys.”
“I wasn’t the one violating the rules—they were. I also didn’t have a choice. John was on the ground and the other guys were kicking him.”
“You could have gone for help but you chose the direct approach,” she said with a smile. “Back then, there was a limit to how closely you followed the rules. Is that still the way it is?”
He met her gaze and held it. “I was a marine. I’ve learned the importance of discipline. Now my job is to protect and serve. That’s precisely what I do.”
“As do I.”
“But for the private sector. In law enforcement the way we catch a killer determines the real outcome—whether or not he ends up convicted and behind bars.” He crossed the room and checked on Crusher, who was curled up on a pad underneath the desk next to a bone.
Travis focused back on Laura. When he spoke, his tone was all business. “As long as you respect the way our department does things, we’ll get along fine,” he said, his penetrating gaze holding hers.
His voice was soft but there was no mistaking his challenge. It was there in the tightening of his jaw and the icy glitter in his eyes.
“I’ve agreed to Chief Wright’s terms and I’ll honor my word,” she said softly, hoping to diffuse the situation. “So where do we start?”
“Let’s go meet with the lab boys and find out what they’ve learned about the bomb. That’s all we have at the moment,” he said. “Keep in mind that we can’t even be sure that the bomb was the work of the serial killer.”
“I’m sure.”
“I’m not. In our line of work, we automatically make enemies. Anyone who has a grudge against you is a possible suspect.”
“This is more than a coincidence, but if you want to explore unlikely possibilities, we could say that they were aiming at you and didn’t know which vehicle you drove,” she said.
“The most dangerous criminals I’ve put away are still behind bars.”
“They’ve undoubtedly got families,” she answered. “Or maybe partners that weren’t apprehended.”
“That’s exactly my point. We don’t have enough evidence to arrive at any conclusion,” he said. “Let’s go see what the lab techs have for us.”
Leaving Crusher asleep beneath Travis’s desk, they walked to the far end of the building. As they entered the lab, they saw several techs working at various stations. Travis focused on an older woman in her late fifties who was peering into a microscope.
“Mrs. Delaney,” Travis said softly.
“One moment,” she said. After a few more minutes, she glanced up at them. “I know why you’re here, Detective,” she said, looking at Travis, “and I have some preliminaries for you.” She brushed a strand of ash-colored hair away from her face and pinned it back in place. “Whoever put this bomb together knew what he was doing. It was homemade and bulky because of the low explosive used—basically ammonium nitrate and diesel fuel. These components are difficult to trace to a source because they’re so common. The detonator, an electric blasting cap, should be a lot easier to track—if we can get the serial number. A throwaway cell phone was used to trigger the device.”
“Do you have anything I can follow up on right now?” Travis asked.
“One thing caught my attention. The ammonium nitrate is fertilizer grade and we’ve identified the brand for you,” she said, writing it down for him. “Tracking down a recent sale might give you a lead, but of course it could have been purchased several months ago. Or stolen.”
“At least it’s a place to start. Thanks,” Travis said.
“Was there a tracking device found in the vehicle or maybe out in the debris field?” Laura asked as they were about to leave.
“No, all we got was the cell phone and it was a cheap model. We can’t track back the call it received setting off the bomb, but we’re trying to find out who sells that model in this area,” Mrs. Delaney answered.
As they walked out of the lab, Laura remained silent.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked after they’d picked up Crusher and were headed toward the department’s underground garage. His pickup would remain at the station where it would be double-checked for evidence. In the meantime, he’d been assigned one of the department’s SUVs.
“Bomb componen
ts can be followed up anytime, by phone or computer, usually,” she said. “So what do you say we take a ride over to the Rez and see what their cops have on the Navajo victim? Or we could check with the Bloomfield police and see what other similarities we can find between the crimes that might tell us more about the suspect.”
“You’re looking for patterns, not just victim profiles, right?” he asked, reading her correctly.
She nodded. “An organized serial killer, for example, stages a crime scene, then takes a trophy, something he can hold. I looked but I couldn’t tell if anything was missing from my friend’s place. We’d only reconnected a few months ago on the internet and I’d never been to her home,” she said, her voice wavering.
If she’d only arrived early instead of late, she might have been able to prevent Nancy’s murder. As soon as the thought formed, she pushed it back. This wasn’t her fault. Deep down she knew that. Allowing herself to shoulder additional guilt would only undermine her ability to think clearly.
What she could do for Nancy now was catch her killer and see that justice was served. It was what she did, and Laura knew it the only way she’d ever find peace again.
“What you want is tricky at best,” he said slowly. “Keep in mind that those cases don’t belong to my department and getting that information will entail my calling in favors.” They pulled out into the street. “I’ll also have to justify our interest, and we still have no conclusive proof that the murders are connected.”
“The only way we’re going to get that proof is to keep digging,” she insisted.
“First things first,” he said. “I want to follow up on those nitrates.”
She expelled her breath in a hiss. “Okay. So how many stores do you have around here that might carry something like that?”
“Five. Two are feed stores on the outskirts of town, closer to the farms and ranches,” he said. “I get Crusher’s dog food at one of them. We can go there first. It shouldn’t take us long to check out the retailers.”
“We could save time by calling ahead to see who carries the brand we’re looking for,” she said.
