About a minute after he disappeared inside, Laurel appeared at the edge of the parking lot. She coasted to the van. I climbed in the back and opened the doors. She lifted the bike up, then left me to situate it while she climbed back in the passenger seat.
“So you survived?” I asked.
“There was a tense moment with a squirrel, but I stood my ground.”
“Any issues?”
“Nate is a lot taller than I am. Remind me to lower the seat next time. Aside from that, no.”
“Cool.”
We watched the building. Like before with Nate, it was pretty damn boring. We couldn’t see the windows to the lab, which meant Tyler couldn’t accidentally see us, but it made for a lot of nothingness.
“You’re right, you know.”
I forced myself to continue looking at the building. “What do you mean?” I damn well knew what she was talking about.
“I am attracted to you. And I think you smell really good too.”
“Damn biology.”
“It might be more than physiological.”
“What do you want to do about it?” I asked.
“Want?” She chuckled, but it sounded rough. “I want to take you home and not leave my apartment for about a week.”
My heart started to pound. “I could be okay with that.”
“Just because we want it, doesn’t mean that we should.”
I finally turned to look at her. She slowly mirrored the motion. “You afraid of breaking the rules, Detective?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid that you won’t love me.”
It felt like infinity sitting there and staring at her. Like I was on the edge of the worst game of truth or dare. Both of them could devastate me.
I waited too long to speak. Laurel turned away.
We waited in excruciating silence for Tyler to return. The first blue tendrils of dawn started to frame the trees. Tyler finally appeared in the doorway. He was framed perfectly. The automatic lights in the building gave him a halo.
“That kid couldn’t blend in a room of white men,” Laurel said.
I laughed. It only felt slightly forced. “You see why we call him Aryan Brotherhood.”
“Oh, I saw it all along. I just didn’t realize he glowed in moonlight.” Laurel hefted the camera and started taking pictures.
“Why do you bother taking photos? He’s just walking.”
She shrugged, but didn’t stop. “Compulsive need to document, aggregate.”
“Were you one of those kids who collected butterflies?”
Laurel laughed, but it sounded real. “No. It’s only compulsive because the academy drills it into you.”
Tyler strode across the quad. His white-blond hair shone. He was probably going to shift into a werewolf at any moment. Or start to fly. Suddenly, he went stiff.
“What the fuck?” I whispered.
He slowly turned. It felt like a horror movie where we were frozen and powerless. He looked directly at the van. He squinted, then seemingly realized that two people were watching him. “Don’t do it,” Laurel whispered. “We’re so close.”
Tyler sprinted away.
“Fuck. What the fuck just happened?” I cranked the engine.
“Cash, wait.” Laurel reached over and put her hand on my arm. With her other hand, she raised the camera again and blindly pressed the shutter. “There. In the trees next to that bench.”
I stared hard at the shadows under the trees. When my eyes adjusted, I could make out the outline of someone. There was a glint of light catching on glass, almost as if he had a camera. Based on bulk and height, I would have sworn it was Gibson.
“There’s no way he could be that stupid, right?” I asked.
“I had no idea you were so optimistic about people. Gibson is a shit human being, a shit detective. This is exactly what I would expect.”
“Do you want me to try to follow Tyler or do you want to arrest that person?”
“Fuck. I don’t know. Tyler, I guess. We can’t afford to lose him.”
“What if, hypothetically, his minivan had a tracker on it?” I asked.
Laurel shot me a look. “To my knowledge, no one involved in this investigation has gotten a warrant to put a tracker on Mr. Hirsch’s minivan.”
“But we could still track him down.”
“Stay here. I swear. Do not get out of this vehicle.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And photograph as necessary.”
“I promise. Go.” I took the camera and lifted it to eye level.
Laurel got out of the van and strode across the quad toward her quarry. He started to turn away, to run, but Laurel was faster, more fit. They collided. She got in two solid punches before he turned and she saw his face. She grabbed his shirt and threw him away from herself. Gibson stumbled into the open quad. He looked pissed. She looked more pissed. He started shouting at her. She returned to the van and climbed in.
“Let’s get out of here. Follow Tyler,” she said.
I backed out of the space. We cut through the school, but he had already left the parking garage. I pulled out my phone and checked the track app.
“It looks like he’s headed home,” I said.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, he’s on 80 and he just passed the split.”
“Head that direction. Maybe we just got lucky.” Laurel shifted uncomfortably. “Or we just got fucking screwed over by a member of our own team and this might salvage our utter shit investigation.”
I glanced at my phone. Tyler was off the freeway in West Sac. “What are you going to do?”
“I want to kill that motherfucker.” Her fists were clenched around the seat belt. She was clearly not talking about Tyler.
“I fully support this plan,” I said.
“Can you believe him? He wasn’t following you. He was following me.” Laurel planted her foot on the seat and leaned against the door to look at me. Her posture suggested relaxation, but every muscle was stretched tight.
“You don’t know that.” Not that I wanted to defend Gibson, but I didn’t want her to get unnecessarily angry either.
“No, I do know that. He just told me.”
“Huh?”
“That’s what he was shouting at me. He said he knew if he just followed me he’d catch me with you. I don’t think he even registered that our perp was ten feet from him.”
“You need to call Ionescu and Michelson like right now. Gibson is straight up negligent.”
Laurel took a deep breath and nodded. “I will. I want to make sure Tyler is tucked in his bed first.”
“Well, the tracker shows him heading home still.”
“But the tracker is on his car, right? So he could easily park it and run away,” she said.
I accelerated. “I don’t suppose anyone else is in the vicinity?”
Laurel shook her head. “Duarte starts watching the house at seven. But it’s twenty till.”
“Call him.” I switched lanes and rocketed onto the exit ramp.
Laurel pulled up Duarte’s phone number. “Hey, any chance you’re at the Hirsches’ already?” Duarte’s voice rumbled through the line, but I couldn’t understand him. Laurel relaxed into her seat. She gave me a thumbs up. “No, you’re right. Tyler went to school. We were on him, but then we got made.” Duarte’s yelp carried to me. “Just lay low. We think he is headed to the house. We are on our way.” She hung up.
“Thank God for overachieving junior detectives.”
Laurel grinned. “He’s been there for half an hour. He didn’t see us, but he didn’t want to call and compromise our position.”
“I think someone deserves a gold star today. Maybe even a lollipop.”
“I will buy that boy two lollipops.” She held up two fingers to make sure I really got how many lollipops Duarte was getting.
“Wow. Someone is feeling generous.”
*****
I had been sitting in the world’s most uncomfo
rtable chair outside of Ionescu’s office for ten minutes. Around minute seven, I’d lost all ability to feel so I was doing okay.
The shouting from within the office carried. I found that if I leaned my head back so it was touching the wall, the voices carried better. I had also found that their discussion was nothing new or surprising.
Kallen was angry that Gibson had jeopardized the entire operation.
Reyes was pissed that Gibson was so distrustful of his colleague that he had jeopardized the entire operation.
Ionescu was not happy that he had been cut out of his own department’s investigation after handing the reins to Gibson.
Gibson was still angry that Kallen and I were involved. He was under the impression that his photographs of us sitting in a van were proof of that fact.
Michelson was silent, but he didn’t seem to enjoy playing mediator.
Inside the office, a cell phone rang. It was silenced. There was some growling. Ionescu’s office phone rang. He picked it up and slammed it on the cradle. That seemed ineffective as far as running a unit of detectives went. Maybe that was why his detectives kept going off book. My phone went off. I pulled it out. It was Officer Duarte.
“Hey.”
“Cash? Hi, it’s Jeff. Jeff Duarte.”
“Yeah, your name is stored in my phone.”
“Oh, yeah. Got it.” He laughed nervously. “Umm, someone is watching the Hirsch house, right? Like it’s not just me?”
“I think there are two FBI agents there as well now.”
“Good. Because Tyler is on the move again. I kinda left Alyssa because I didn’t want to lose Tyler. He just got on 80 going west. I’m following him.”
“Shit. Okay. Stay on him. I’ll make sure one of the detectives follows you.”
“Cool. Cool. Thanks. I tried calling Kallen. And Reyes. And Ionescu. But none of them picked up. Well, Ionescu did, but then he hung up on me.” His voice got higher the more he talked.
“Duarte.”
“Yeah?”
I stood. “You’re doing great. I’m hanging up. Stay on Tyler. If he drives past UC Davis, call me again. Do not let him out of your sight.” We hung up and I knocked on Ionescu’s door. It wasn’t immediately opened and I was tired of cop politics so I opened it myself.
“Can we help you, Ms. Braddock?” Ionescu shouted.
I was reasonably certain that he hadn’t meant to shout. That was just the volume he was currently operating at. “You could answer your goddamn phones.” Kallen, Reyes, Gibson, and Michelson all pulled out their cell phones. “Tyler Hirsch just got on 80 west. Your junior detective is currently following him.”
“Kallen, Reyes, go.” Ionescu waved them out, which was good because they were already moving. I stepped back. “Daniel, I want regular updates.” He really hit the word regular. Michelson nodded stoically. “Gibson, call your fucking union rep and get the fuck out of my sight.” The office emptied.
Laurel and Reyes headed for the stairwell. Michelson fell into step behind them. I followed because I didn’t know what else to do. Michelson was speaking rapidly into his cell phone. Laurel and Reyes were walking so close together, they were basically becoming the same person.
“Cash, any word from Duarte?” Laurel asked over her shoulder.
“Nothing yet. He was only supposed to call if Tyler went past Davis.” I shot off a text to Duarte. He wrote back immediately. “They’re approaching campus.”
We pounded down two flights of stairs. Reyes’s and Michelson’s dress shoes tapped in perfect rhythm as we descended. We spilled into the parking lot. Michelson had an FBI lackey waiting at the curb. He pulled the phone away from his face long enough to exchange some vague instructions with Kallen. She nodded and he climbed in the black sedan. Reyes ran off to retrieve the Crown Vic. Laurel guided me to follow him. I hated running.
“Why the hell would Tyler go back to campus?” I asked.
Laurel shrugged. “Maybe he still has drugs stashed. Maybe there’s a contact we don’t know about. Maybe he just wants to go to class.”
“Are you guys going to arrest him?”
“Probably. The lab emailed this morning. The pills from Benji Nelson are a match. That’s enough to detain the Hirsches.”
“Why didn’t you guys do it when they were both home this morning?”
“Politics.”
“That’s dumb. What if he runs?”
“He might. At this point, we’re all pretty curious where he is headed.” Laurel was amped. She hadn’t even been this wired when Henry tried to kill her. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or residual anger, but either way it was tiring to watch.
Reyes popped the locks and climbed behind the wheel. I got in the backseat. Then I questioned why I had gotten in the backseat. I really didn’t need to accompany them. My phone buzzed with another text. I checked it.
“Duarte says they are circling the garage, looking for parking right now,” I said.
The detectives nodded in acknowledgment and continued with whatever game plan they were working on, something about consulting with Davis PD. Duarte sent regular updates as we drove. They were walking across campus when we got off the freeway. Tyler entered the building with the lab as we drove onto campus. Laurel directed Reyes to the lot we had been watching from. He parked at the curb. Advantage of police plates.
Laurel had gotten Duarte on the phone. He was apparently narrowing down which room Tyler had entered, but couldn’t confirm what the suspect was doing. At that, Reyes made a call to let someone know they weren’t doing a room by room search.
“Guys?” I asked. They barely acknowledged me. “Guys, I can access the cameras in the lab.” Laurel and Reyes turned and stared at me. “If he is doing something dangerous, you need to know before you go in, right? And if he is grabbing a stash of fentanyl, then you can nab him with evidence. But if he is just attending class, you’ll want to wait for a less volatile arrest location.” I’d been listening just enough to figure out the pertinent issues.
“What do you need from us?” Reyes asked.
“I need someone to clear out a men’s bathroom,” I said.
They exchanged a look that was part praise and part incredulousness.
“Let’s go.” Reyes got out of the car.
As they walked, both detectives adjusted their holsters and badges. Reyes had everything attached to his belt, but Laurel was wearing a shoulder holster cinched over her loose shirt. Her badge was slung around her neck. Their serious conversation was gone. Now they appeared to anticipate each movement the other would make as they ascended the stairs.
On the second floor, Reyes let me lead the way. I found the right bathroom and pointed it out. Reyes went in. A minute later, a guy came out, then another. Reyes finally emerged with one straggler who seemed quite annoyed.
“Thanks.” I passed Reyes on my way in.
“Anytime.”
The door closed and I locked it. I climbed on the counter and popped out a ceiling tile. The laptop was where Nate had left it. That was good. It was warm so it was still on. I opened it and launched the right program. The videos started streaming. The camera over the door just showed a lab in session. There were ten kids moving around, talking. They all gave a wide berth to Tyler who clearly didn’t belong.
The camera over the center workstation showed Tyler calmly pressing a new batch of pills.
I opened the bathroom door. Laurel and Reyes stepped forward.
“He’s making more. He probably knows this is his last chance.”
“Seriously?” Reyes asked. He glanced at the screen. “That arrogant little shit.”
Laurel was already on the phone listing off information about the approximate size of the room, the number of people inside, the perpetrator’s location. Two minutes later, Michelson ran up. He had changed clothes. Instead of his suit, he was wearing black fatigues and a T-shirt. Laurel was still in her stakeout outfit: chinos and a baseball tee. Reyes was dressed for work in slacks, a dress shi
rt, and tie. They all looked out of place, both for a college and each other’s company. Two agents dressed the same as Michelson flanked him. Laurel and Michelson spoke rapidly, quietly, then they all moved toward the stairs. I realized a cadre of uniformed police were following Agent Michelson.
At the last second, Laurel turned back to me. “Stay here. Do not intervene.”
As if. “Sure thing.” What else was I going to say? Have fun? Be careful?
I found a bench and watched the silent videos. The door opened. The agent twins went in first. They tapped students on the shoulder and motioned them out of the lab. They got eight kids out before Tyler noticed them.
Michelson, Reyes, and Laurel filed in. They spread in front of Tyler. Michelson moved toward the front of the room, Laurel the back. Reyes approached dead-on. Tyler faced Reyes. He seemed panicked. His neck and scalp started to turn pink. Reyes stepped closer. Tyler shouted something and Reyes stopped moving. Tyler started mumbling, seemingly to himself. Reyes looked like he was straining to hear, to understand.
Then Tyler swept everything off the table into his satchel. He reached behind his back. I saw the gun, the flash of fire. Distantly, a gunshot echoed through the building. One of the FBI guys drew on Tyler. I heard another gunshot, then another. I couldn’t follow the action anymore. Around me, kids were running for the stairs. People were screaming. There were sirens.
But on the very edge of the camera above the workbench, I could see Laurel holding Reyes. Blood was spreading everywhere. Their clothes were sodden with it. She moved in and out of the frame, but her hands were unmoving. They pressed into his chest, gathering material, twisting it tighter against him. A body moved into the frame. He blocked my view, then crouched next to Laurel. He moved her hands long enough to slap a white square over the hole. Laurel put her hands back in place. He put his hands over hers and helped her press.
The Price of Cash Page 24
