by Robena Grant
“Tell him to call on my number. It’ll be hands free.”
“Oh, yeah…sure.” Debbie nodded, relayed the message to Dave.
Jack drove back onto the highway. Why the hell was Stanton calling? Seconds later, his phone rang. “Any scoop on Trigger?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Dave said. “He’s not local, local.”
“What does that mean?”
“Twenty Nine Palms. It’s up the road a bit. Been living elsewhere for some time now, but recently returned home.”
“Okay.” Jack felt Debbie stiffen in the seat beside him. She could hear everything and he wasn’t sure he wanted this info known to her. He was about to respond, when Dave continued.
“No record. From what I’ve learned though, he used to run with some young hoods back in the day. Breaking and entering, DUI’s, those were their claims to fame. Nothing unusual for this community…sun can make you mad.”
“Anything drug related?”
“Probably…for the other gang members…he’s most likely been pulled over on suspicion a million times. He’s never been booked though.”
“Okay,” Jack said. “Thanks. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
He ended the call before Stanton could ask him any questions. While he wanted to tell Dave about the interaction with the armed, silver-haired guy in the SUV, he wouldn’t risk frightening Debbie. Had the guy had them under surveillance, ordered by Trigger? Had he run them off the road to prevent them from following?
He grimaced, shot Debbie a quick look, and when she glanced his way he forced a smile. She smiled back. And even though Stanton had blown his cover she didn’t ask one single question. All right then. He needed Debbie on his side. He needed her calm. He needed Janelle. Janelle might prove to be the best person to get info out of Trigger.
Chapter Eight
Debbie pressed her back firmly into the passenger seat, her hands wedged between compressed knees, her thoughts racing, eyes closed.
She couldn’t get the scent of Jack from her nostrils. Having her head almost on his lap and careening down Highway 111 with a gun wielding crazy man in pursuit had been beyond anything she’d ever experienced in her entire life. And even though Jack had brushed off the bit about the gun, she knew by his actions the man was no disgruntled driver with road rage. And even though they’d been in danger, it had excited her.
And the scent of him was beyond intoxicating. In fact she figured it was criminal for a man as good looking as Jack to smell so darned seductive. Downright sinful. Thinking of danger, and dangerous sinful men, made her think of Janelle. She reached for her cell phone.
“Hi sweetie, you okay?”
“Yes,” Janelle said. “What about you guys?”
Debbie heard the television at Cliffs blaring in the background, along with raised voices and the clinking of glass. “We’re fine, nothing to report.”
“Good. It’s a zoo here. Oh, by the way, Wendy Blue asked about you.”
“Ugh. What did she want?”
“I’m not sure. I told her you were on a date. She said she’d wait, because you’d probably come back to Cliffs afterward.”
“Darn it. She knows too much about my habits. I can’t get away from her.”
“Don’t worry, I told her that you’d gone to Azul for dinner and would probably not be back, so she left. Listen, it really is crazy here. I’ve got to go.”
“Sure. Thanks for stalling her.” Debbie let out a huge puff of air and stuffed her cell phone back in her purse.
“Everything okay?” Jack asked, and gave her a quick glance.
“Yes, just Betty Blue’s daughter, looking for me for some unknown reason. She’s very anxious, and has become a bit of a pest.”
“We’ve driven another five miles,” Jack said, looking down at the dashboard. “And I don’t know Palm Springs real well. With the car compromised, and there’s been no sign of either the Beamer or the Mercedes on any side streets, I think we might as well turn at the next light. Let’s head back to Almagro.”
Debbie nodded. “Yeah, there’s no sense in going any further.”
She closed her eyes again. Could the gun incident be connected to Trigger, or something separate? What the heck were they dealing with? She wasn’t stupid. It had to be about Trigger, maybe a diversion to keep them from following the other two vehicles. Of course men like him would have thugs to get their backs. She opened her eyes and looked at Jack’s profile. He wasn’t a thug. A cop maybe, but at least she was certain he was a good guy.
“You okay?” Jack asked. “Tired?”
“Yes, a bit. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Trigger, mostly.” She pursed her lips for a moment. “He doesn’t seem like he’s gay to me. So I’m wondering about him kissing a guy, and…I don’t know…something isn’t right.”
“You’re smart,” Jack said.
He turned toward her for a second, and Debbie saw his eyes sparkle in the dim light and a look of respect shadow his features. “I figured the same thing,” he said, after a few seconds elapsed. “That teen rap, and the hanging out at Cliffs, the way he reacted to the ball game—I’m not saying gay guys don’t like sports…”
“But it doesn’t fit the profile.”
Jack gripped the steering wheel with both hands, and grimaced. “When I first met him, I’d noticed he had moments of intelligence. Then he’d get crass and seem uneducated. I’m not sure which side is the real side of Trigger. And I think the drunkenness at Cliffs was an act.” He glanced over at her. “Where do you want to go to now?”
“Let’s call it a night. Could you drive me back to the spa? I left my car there.”
“No problem.”
They turned off the highway at Washington Street, and then continued for a few miles on the almost empty road. The Old Town outdoor mall stood in complete darkness, except for the shop fronts, and the few tall iron street lights. They drove through the alley and pulled into the employee parking lot next to Debbie’s car. It was the only vehicle there, but at eleven o’clock all of the restaurants had either closed, or had employee parking on the other side of the mall. Most places closed their kitchens by nine-thirty.
“I’ll wait for you to get in and start your car,” Jack said. “Then I’ll follow you home—”
“No, that’s not necessary. I live close by.”
Jack opened his door. A security alarm blared. Debbie froze. Jack looked at her and reached for his shoulder holster. He withdrew his gun. Her eyes widened.
“Is it your alarm…at the spa?”
Debbie nodded. “I think so.”
“Get in your car. Start the engine and keep it running, then slide into the passenger seat. Lock up, and stay low. I’ll tap twice on the window for you to unlock.”
He jumped out of his car at the same time as she did. Her fingers fumbled, but she finally found the car keys in her purse. He hurried her to her car surveying the area, gun at the ready. She figured he needed her vehicle in case they had to give chase, he couldn’t quite trust his own. That was smart thinking.
“Your back door looks intact. Front door is heavily lit, probably no break in there. Are there any windows?”
“Yes,” she said, sliding into her seat. “On the right side if you’re facing the back entrance.”
With that he took off, his long legs eating up the short distance to her shop. Debbie did as he said, still on automatic mode, and got into the passenger seat. She’d already pressed down the door lock. Then, finally able to sit and catch her breath, her whole body trembled. Why would anyone break into her place? There’d be no money there. Anyone with any sense would know that.
Jack returned, tapped the window twice with his gun, and Debbie unlocked the door. He jumped in, squealed out of the parking lot, on what seemed to be two wheels, and he called through to the Almagro PD, all in one fluid motion.
“You get an alarm for the Healing Spa in Old Town?” he asked.
“Yeah. Got a c
ar dispatched.”
Debbie heard the response, and pulled in a quick breath. Thank goodness. She glanced at Jack. The way he handled this situation she knew he’d dealt with many similar ones in his lifetime. She felt safe with him.
“Who is this?” the cop asked.
“Jack Davis,” he said. “I’m in a gold Toyota, ah…California plates. I’ve got clearance with the department…working with Stanton.” Jack shot her a quick glance. “As ah, as a citizen. Don’t go to the spa. Head to Washington Avenue northbound. SUV, black, probably a couple of dents in the front. White haired male driver, he’s armed. Female passenger, I think, maybe brown hair.”
“You scare them off, Davis?”
“Yep, they were breaking into a window at the side of the spa. Hang on. I’ve got them in my sight.” Jack hit the accelerator, and the tires squealed as they swerved into a side street. “This guy’s a suspect in another case. Fill you in later.”
Debbie hung onto the door handle with a death grip, convinced they were airborne. She wondered how her old lady car was going to survive this experience. Jack tossed his cell phone into the center ash tray, looked over at her, and cursed.
“I forgot for a moment…that you were in the vehicle.”
“It’s fine with me. Let’s give them some back-up,” Debbie said, pressing her back firmly into the seat. “They’re really short-staffed in the department.”
“You could be caught in cross fire. Promise me you’ll stay low. Okay?”
“No problem.”
“I mean now,” Jack said sharply.
Sirens wailed. She wasted no time in responding to Jack’s command and put her head down. She leaned across the center console, pressing her head against his thigh. Damn gear shift got in the way, and she prayed he wouldn’t have to downshift or she might lose some teeth. Still, the feel of him, the scent of him was so familiar. If she died she couldn’t think of a nicer place for that to happen. Every time he pressed the accelerator or the brake, she felt the tightening of his thigh muscles.
A sudden rush of cold air blew over her and stirred the back of her hair. She knew he’d put his window down. He drove so fast she wondered if he’d already caught up with the squad car, which would have been coming from the other direction and done a U-turn. Much as she wanted to lift her head and look, she didn’t dare.
Within seconds, flashing lights played over the interior of the car, and the sound of a cop car siren almost pierced her eardrums. Jack’s car seemed to draw ahead of the cop car. But she couldn’t tell what was happening. She wanted to sit up, wanted desperately to see what was happening, but she remembered Janelle, and there was no way she’d risk leaving her motherless.
They careened along the road, taking turns right, then left, then right again. Shots rang out but she wasn’t sure if it was from Jack firing, or the bad guy firing at them. She prayed to every god she knew, and some she didn’t. Now it all made sense. The white-haired guy had followed them to Azul. If she and Jack had gone back to Cliffs, or his hotel room, or…the thought of that had her heart racing like mad again…she took a deep breath, and then centered her thoughts. The bad guys would have had enough time to break into the spa, if Jack hadn’t driven straight back there.
But what the hell would they have been looking for?
Debbie gave a slight shake of her head. When the alarm went off, the security company would have tried to notify her first, of course. Just in case it was a false alarm. If she wasn’t home to take the call, they’d call Rachel, who was first on her emergency list. The company would send out a patrol car but everyone knew they were routed out of Palm Springs, and that was a good half hour or more drive away. Local police would be called as a last resort.
Any local burglar worth his salt would know he had no need to hurry to get inside.
Thinking that a local was out to harm her made Debbie shiver. What could they be after? And were they working with Trigger? And did she know any middle-aged man with white hair and a black SUV?
The car came to a stop, and she eased up. Jack jumped out onto the blacktop almost before the engine shut down. She peeped over the dashboard to take a look through the front window. Up ahead were two cop cars pulled to the side of a dark street in the middle of nowhere, their car lights flashing, and high beams lighting up nothing but desert. Where the heck were they? Maybe some back area of Indio, perhaps farming land out toward the Cabrera’s place. It was so dark out here with no street lights, and she couldn’t tell for sure where they were because there were no street signs.
Jack hurried to the officer who stood talking through the window of the second vehicle. He hadn’t told her to stay inside, so she ventured out. Her legs felt shaky, but it felt good to be moving. This had been one hell of a night.
“Bastards got away,” one deputy said. “I should have kept the siren off until I got the plates and called them in.”
“Yeah, but you needed back up. The sirens would get you that. Remember, they were armed,” Jack said. He heard her footsteps, put out an arm and drew her close to his side.
The deputy shrugged. “At least I could see it was a rental. A few calls will get me the info I want. You going to come in, tell me what else you know?”
“Sure. I’ll see Debbie home first. Put a guy on patrol of the Old Town mall until I get back, will you? I doubt they’ll return tonight, but I intend to sleep in the place.”
“What?” Debbie asked. “Where will you sleep?”
“On the dolphin bed.”
She pushed her fists against her hips and stared up at him. “Then I’m staying, too.”
“No, you’re not.” His stance was rigid, and his jaw firm. She liked that, but hell, it was her place. She’d stay if she wanted.
“No way,” he said again.
“I’ll drive back on over, once you’re asleep.”
The deputy laughed. “No more squabbling, you sound like me and the missus. Both of you come in, and I’ll make a report. Then you do whatever you want.”
Debbie followed Jack to the car, and they drove in silence to the P.D. Inside the station, Debbie told them everything she knew. Jack also filed his report.
“Anything at all that you can give me on the female passenger?” the deputy asked, turning toward Jack.
Jack grimaced. “Small in height, curly hair, couldn’t see the face. Oh, long dangly earrings. I remember because they kept bobbing.”
Debbie froze. It couldn’t be, could it? She wouldn’t say anything to either of them, because she hadn’t gotten a glimpse of the passenger. Wendy wasn’t the only woman with brown curly hair who wore long earrings. Was she?
Excitement flared in her chest. Janelle had told Wendy where they were dining. They’d have had time to get down to Palm Springs. But why would they run them off the road instead of going to the spa earlier and breaking in? Wendy didn’t drive a black SUV, she knew that much, and Betty didn’t own one either. She pondered that for a moment. She remembered the cop had said it was a rental. Had it been rented purely for this purpose? Then it hit her, the reason they’d waited to attempt a break-in, until after ten, was because it would have been too risky earlier, too many people around on a Saturday night. Also, by running them off the road they’d have known it would slow them down, maybe damage the car. Maybe even prevent the car from being able to be driven. Debbie’s heart beat pounded, but she stayed quiet.
Jack and the deputy continued to go over a couple of the finer points in the report. Debbie swallowed hard, liking where her thoughts were taking her. Tomorrow, when Wendy came over to visit, as she always did, she’d be more civil. No more brushing off Wendy. There must be an item in the spa that she wants or needs. But what could it be?
“So you’re done with my report?” Debbie asked.
“Damn, you’re in the wrong business, Deb,” the deputy said. “I like your details. Stanton’s gonna love this. You know, you’d make a good P.I.”
Debbie laughed feeling slightly guilty for not saying a
nything. Although she really had nothing concrete to go on. “Thanks. Tell Dena Cabrera. She intended to work alone, until she met Zeke, and then got swept off her feet.”
“And pregnant,” the deputy said. He smiled slowly. “I like those two.”
Debbie nodded. “She’s hiring and has used me a couple of times. So with any luck…”
She glanced at Jack. He hadn’t made a comment about Zeke or Dena. So that connection was a cover to give him credibility. She’d seen him in action, and if she had still harbored any doubts about him being undercover those same thoughts had flown away as fast as the suspects. And yet, he still wasn’t coming clean with her. Didn’t he trust her?
She decided against pressing for an invitation to the Cabreras’ home on Monday. She wanted to be at her shop when Wendy visited. She’d start her own investigation. Jack had said tonight that he couldn’t take her into his confidence, so two could play the same game. But she couldn’t help herself from giving him a little dig.
“So come on Mister-I’m-Not-Undercover.” Debbie picked up her purse. “Let’s get some shut eye. We can watch my place in shifts.”
Jack scowled. But he neither denied nor acknowledged her taunt. “I still think it’s risky for you to be there.”
“I don’t. It’s my place and I can sleep there whenever I want,” she said. “With or without your protection.”
“You’re right.” Jack pulled in a deep breath, his broad chest getting even broader. He squinted down at her, and then he let the breath out in a whoosh, grabbed her elbow, and shoved her toward the main door of the PD.
“Let’s go,” he said. But he didn’t sound at all happy about his decision.
****
“You get some rest,” Jack said to Debbie, while he checked out the interior of the spa.
There were only two access doors that a criminal could bash in, one right in front of him, the other behind him and down the hall. The one window the burglars had tried to access was high up on the side wall, and obviously they had figured it wasn’t wired into the security system.
More fools them.
He’d parked Debbie’s car on a side street, his own over near a restaurant. And he’d checked out the other lots in the mall. All was quiet. “I’ll stay on guard out here. Toss me a blanket if you’ve got a spare one.”
