“Work stuff.” Collins gave a shrug. “You know, research.”
“And what was he researching?” She smiled sheepishly. “I heard something about nuclear plasmids, but maybe you could put it in layman’s terms?”
He looked reluctant to answer the question, and she wished she could go back and ask something else to warm him up. But it was too late now.
He leaned back and stroked his beard. Another academic-looking pose. “Are you familiar with recombinant DNA technology?”
“Not really.”
“Well . . . it’s complicated, but basically James had run up against a wall and wanted to compare notes, see if he could get back on track. See, I’ve been doing a lot lately with YACs, or yeast artificial chromosomes. James’s research has more to do with BACs, or bacterial artificial chromosomes. But there’s a lot of overlap and sometimes we like to catch up and exchange ideas.”
“I see.” She didn’t see at all, but she wanted to watch where he steered the conversation. Unfortunately, he’d stopped talking.
“And were you able to help him?”
“I don’t know.” Another shrug. “He said he’d call again this week, but obviously he didn’t, so . . .”
“And Tessa?”
“What about her?”
“She called you, too, according to her phone records.” She paused to watch him. He didn’t look surprised by the idea that she’d been through both victims’ phone records.
“Yes, that was personal. We were friends more than coworkers. She just wanted to touch base.”
“Were you romantically involved with her?”
“No.” He chuckled.
“Why is that funny?”
“Just . . . Tessa.” He shook his head. “She was all about James.”
Yet she’d called a man who wasn’t James just to touch base.
“So, you knew she and James were having an affair?”
“Everyone knew.” He tipped his head to the side. “Except maybe his wife. What’s her name? Amy?”
“Audrey.”
“Right. I never actually met her.”
“And how did Tessa seem when you spoke with her recently?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t?”
“She left me a message, but I hadn’t gotten back to her yet. I was planning to call her sometime over the weekend.” His brow furrowed and he gazed down at the floor. “I can’t believe any of this. It feels totally surreal.”
“Dr. Collins, why did you decide to take a sabbatical this summer?”
His eyebrows arched. She’d wanted the question to catch him off guard, and it had.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re on sabbatical right now, correct?”
“Who told you that?”
“When I stopped by the biology building—”
“Phyllis.” He rolled his eyes. “That sounds like something she’d say. I think it’s more accurate to say I’m on unpaid leave. You didn’t know?”
“No. What happened?”
He sighed heavily. Then he stood up. “I think I will have that tea. You sure you don’t want some?”
“I’m fine.” But she got up and stepped into the kitchen so she could watch his body language as they continued the conversation.
“I’m on unpaid leave because—allegedly—I had sexual relations with a student.”
“Did you?”
“No.” He took a metal teapot off the stove and shook it. Water sloshed around and he put it back on the burner, then reached under the stove to light the pilot. Dani watched him, taking note of his calm demeanor and his voice. He seemed . . . annoyed. As though being falsely accused of something that could destroy his career was a minor inconvenience.
“The charges are bogus,” he said.
“You think so?”
“Trinity’s lawyers are all about cover-your-ass, so if a student makes the slightest complaint, they go into crisis mode. Same thing happened to James.”
“James Ayers?”
“Right. That student was making it up, too. James didn’t even know her. But still they put him on leave.”
How was Dani just now hearing this? This was definitely something James’s wife should have mentioned. Or Kreznik when he’d been interviewed by Ric.
“Do you happen to remember the woman’s name?”
“The woman who accused me or James?”
“James.”
He sighed and stared down at the stove. “I can’t remember it offhand, but I can look it up.” He glanced at his notebook computer, but didn’t move to look up anything.
Dani scanned the cabin. It was small and outdated, but the view wouldn’t come cheap. Did he own this place, or did someone else? She saw no sign that anyone lived here with him. Unwashed dishes had stacked up beside the sink, including a Darth Vader coffee mug. This guy had bachelor written all over him.
Dani cleared her throat. “So . . . do you mind if I ask how you’re paying the bills while you’re on unpaid leave?”
“Why?”
“Just curious.”
He turned up the heat on the teakettle. “I’m not. They’re piling up. I’m looking for another job, actually, but don’t tell my landlord that.”
Dani glanced down at her notepad, a little thrown by all the twists and turns the conversation had taken. She flipped the pages as Collins watched her expectantly.
So far everything about this discussion seemed odd, but most especially the nonchalance of it. She’d flown here from Texas to talk to this guy about his murdered friends, and he didn’t seem surprised to see her or anxious about the interview.
Maybe the man had a screw loose. He was definitely smart, but he could easily have mental issues, too.
“According to our investigation, Mike Kreznik—another former Trinity colleague—called you last week as well.” She flipped a page in her notebook. “Thursday evening, it looks like.” She glanced up at him, and he was frowning now.
“Yeah. So?”
“So, what did he call about?”
“His message didn’t say, and I haven’t called him back yet.”
Dani’s pulse picked up. She watched him closely, trying to read his eyes, his mouth, every nuance of his expression. “Do you have any idea why Kreznik would call you?”
His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, but . . . whose phone records are you investigating here? I thought we were talking about James and Tessa.”
“And Mike Kreznik. He’s dead, too.”
His jaw dropped. All the color drained from his face. “He’s . . . what?”
Either this guy was a good actor or he’d had no idea.
“You didn’t know?”
“I—wait. You’re telling me Mike is dead?”
“Yes.”
“But how?”
“Homicide.”
He stared at her as the kettle began to hiss. When it reached an earsplitting whistle, he seemed to notice its existence. He moved it off the burner and switched off the stove.
“But I don’t understand.” He rubbed a hand over his face and beard. “Mike was just . . . I mean, I just talked to him. I just talked to all of them.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here. Do you know why Mike was calling you?”
“No. I told you, I hadn’t called him back yet.”
“Do you have a guess? Was it work? Personal?”
He hesitated. Only a beat, but Dani caught it.
“I don’t know.”
It was a lie. She couldn’t say why she felt sure of it, but she did. And excitement surged through her because she’d come all this way and she was finally onto something. She could feel it in the air.
Collins darted a look at the cell phone sitting on the counter. He wanted it. He wanted to contact someone. But he didn’t want to do it in front of her.
He glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, Detective, but . . . I actually have to be somewhere. I need to go.”
Dani watched him, debating h
ow to respond. She wasn’t nearly finished yet. But he wanted to connect with someone on his phone, and whoever that someone was might prove to be a lead. And if he really did need to go somewhere, and that wasn’t just a ploy, Dani could always follow him.
“I have a few more questions,” she said. “And I still need that name.”
“Name?”
“Of the woman who filed the complaint against James.”
“Oh. Sure. Can I call you with that?” Another glance at his watch. “And you can ask me any follow-up questions after I take care of this . . . errand.”
“Sure, no problem. I’m in town overnight.” She tugged a business card from her back pocket and his gaze flicked to her sidearm and badge. For the first time since she’d been here, he looked guilty of something. She just didn’t know what it was yet.
“Thanks.” He took the card without looking at it and tucked it into the pocket of his flannel shirt. Then he grabbed his car keys and slid the phone into his back pocket.
“I’ll get out of your way,” Dani said.
He hustled her out the door and down the steps, and she glanced around. The cabin and the entire hillside were bathed in yellow now as the sun neared the horizon.
“So this errand . . . are you heading into town or—”
“Just down the road.” He nodded vaguely in the direction of the highway. “I’m a caretaker on someone’s ranch. Brings in a little extra cash.” He forced a smile, but she knew all of it was bullshit, and he couldn’t wait to get on his phone.
“I’ll call you tonight for that name.”
“Yeah. No problem.”
He headed for his pickup and she turned toward her car, which was still parked at the bottom of the hill. Before she even reached it, he rolled past her in the grimy white truck. She glanced at the license plate as he rattled over the cattle guard. Then he swung onto the road and the pickup was lost in a cloud of red dust. Dani stared after it.
“He lit out quick.”
She turned around at the voice. Scott was watching her from beneath the deck. She hadn’t heard his footsteps, and he definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago.
“You hear any of that?” she asked.
“No.”
She took out her notepad and jotted down the license plate number. She and Scott tromped down the hill toward the rental car.
“He got spooked when I mentioned Kreznik.”
“When you mentioned him, or when you mentioned he’s dead?”
“Both. And he definitely didn’t know already. I could see it in his face.” She stopped beside the car as Scott pulled the key from the pocket of his leather jacket. “You want me to take a turn driving?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
A thunderous boom shook the ground. Fire shot up from the trees, followed by a billow of smoke. Dani caught a flash of movement in her peripheral vision as Scott lunged toward her and tackled her. They hit the ground together and rolled, and he was on top of her and everything went dark.
She tasted dirt. Her ears were ringing. And she couldn’t breathe with the tremendous weight pressing her face-first into the ground. She tried to lift her head, tried to see.
“Head down!”
Scott’s words sounded far away, which seemed impossible because he was right there on top of her, covering her with his huge body.
Suddenly the weight disappeared. Dani pushed up on her palms, blinking and coughing and spitting dust. She couldn’t breathe. Scott’s tackle had knocked the wind out of her, and she blinked up at him. He was crouched beside her now with his Sig in his hand, yelling something she didn’t understand as a plume of smoke rose up above the treetops.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, then dragged her behind a big tree, still yelling something as he thrust a phone in her hand.
Dani stared down at the device, her ears still ringing. She should call 911. There had been an explosion. She looked ahead at the dusty red road and understood exactly what had exploded without even having to see it. Scott was running down the road now, and she took off after him, tapping at the buttons on the phone with a trembling hand.
Scott rounded the bend and halted, and she looked past him at the wreckage engulfed in flames. Smoke poured out of the blackened carcass that now only vaguely resembled a truck. Dani gaped at the scene and felt a spurt of fear as Scott raced toward the fire. She wanted to scream at him to stay away, stay back, but she couldn’t make her voice work. She stumbled to the side of the road and caught her balance against a tree.
Nathan Collins was dead. Incinerated. Three minutes ago they’d been having a conversation.
Something stung her neck. She turned to look at the tree beside her.
And then Scott was sprinting toward her at full speed, the look in his eyes ferocious. She had a split second to brace for the impact as he once again tackled her to the dirt, and they rolled over and over and smacked into something hard. Dani’s head hit a rock, and pain pulsed through her skull, and she was blinking up at Scott’s face looming over her. She glanced around. They were in a ditch. Her head throbbed and something was poking into her back, but despite the smoke and dirt and the pain, Scott’s words penetrated the chaos.
“He’s shooting!”
• • •
Scott registered a hundred different details, all flashing into his brain with equal intensity. The acrid smell of smoke. The orange flames. The soft, womanly feel of Dani’s body underneath him. She stared up at him, her green eyes wide with shock and fear.
He had to get her out of here.
That bullet had missed her by an inch, maybe less, and she already had a welt on her neck from where the tree bark had nicked her.
He ignored the pain in his arm as he rolled off her and shifted into a crouch. Dani grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him down.
“The truck exploded. It exploded.” She clutched his arm. “And someone’s shooting at us?”
“That’s right.” He looked around, taking in every element of their position with a quick glance.
They were surrounded by brush, but it was low and much too thin. The two shots had come fast and close, barely more than a second apart. And they’d revealed a wealth of information, none of it good.
The shooter had the high ground. He was set up to the west, with the sun over his shoulder, giving him a distinct advantage if Scott had been in a position to shoot back, which he sure as shit wasn’t with a short-range firearm. The high ground west of them was a mesa, maybe a hundred feet tall, that stretched along the side of a valley that was at least five hundred yards wide. That distance told Scott the shooter was both trained and well equipped.
“Fuck,” he muttered, glancing around. The foliage here provided concealment but definitely not cover—at least, not the kind that could stand up to a bullet moving twenty-two hundred feet per second at the moment of impact.
Dani rolled onto her side and tried to push up.
“Head down!” Scott ordered, pushing her to the ground. He surveyed the area, throwing together a plan. It wasn’t great, but there weren’t a lot of options. Scott checked his Sig as Dani watched him with confusion in her eyes.
“But . . . where are they?” She looked toward the setting sun. She’d instinctively sensed what he had, that the shooter was positioned to the west where the elevation and the lighting gave him a clear advantage.
“Dani, look at me.” Scott needed her full attention, but her pupils were dilated, and he could tell she was in shock. “Daniele.”
Her gaze met his.
“Get onto your knees. Keep your head low.” He helped her to her knees, using his body as a shield. As she sat up, she pulled out her Glock and checked the clip, which he took as a good sign. She was shaking off the daze and getting her head in the game.
“Behind you, about ten yards, there’s some tree cover,” he said. “Pine trees. Better than these bushes. Are you with me?”
She nodded.
“Whe
n I say the word, run as fast as you can for those trees. Stay low. Follow the trees all the way back to the car. Get behind it, stay behind the engine block, and wait for me.”
“But—”
“Stay low, do you understand?”
She grabbed his arm, and he tried not to wince. “What about you?”
“I’ll take a different route.” He took her free hand and pressed the car key into it. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
“We should stay together.”
“It’s better if we split up so he has to choose between targets.” And he was going to choose Scott.
“But you can’t—”
“Just do it, God damn it! Don’t argue with me for once. I’ll meet you back at the car in three minutes.”
Her grip on his arm tightened, and beneath the shock in her eyes he could see the fear threatening to paralyze her. They had to move now.
He touched the side of her face. “Are you listening to me, Daniele?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now, look at those trees.”
She turned and focused on the trees.
“I’m going to take off first. You wait two full seconds, and then you race for that cover. Stay as low as you can and don’t stop running. Don’t look back or stop for anything, you got that?”
“Yes.”
He searched her eyes for understanding. “You locked and loaded?”
She glanced down at her gun and nodded.
“Okay, let’s move.”
• • •
She sprinted for the tree, her heart thundering as she waited for the pain of a bullet. She reached the tree and crashed to her knees behind the thick trunk. She hunched there, making herself small as she glanced around.
Where was Scott? He’d disappeared into the bushes, gone completely invisible somehow. But then she saw a flash of his black jacket as he darted behind a tree. Suddenly the reality of what he was doing hit her like a sledgehammer.
What was wrong with her? Why hadn’t she understood? He was drawing the shooter’s fire.
Dani cast a frantic glance at the western tree line. Beyond it, from the safety of some ridge she couldn’t even see, someone was staring through a rifle scope at this dusty stretch of road where what had once been a truck and person was now a flaming wreck.
She squinted through the smoke and glanced around, looking for her next destination. The closest tree was just ten feet away.
At Close Range Page 14
