Desert Exposure (6 page)

“We’ll do that after we get your jacket and the camera. We can use my laptop to upload the pictures. And we can do that when we get to your grandfather’s cabin.” He thought about his undercover work. The persona he’d so carefully chosen. The Hummer matched that identity. He couldn’t risk being seen like this, dressed neatly and clean shaven, yet in the same vehicle. “I’ll pick up a different car.”

“Yeah, one of those undercover jobs, a dark blue or gray Buick,” Rachel said, breaking her stride to look up at him. “The type you stick the light up on the top, through the window.”

He gave a slight shake of his head. What had he just agreed to? He couldn’t go back there yet. Not until at least tomorrow when he could dirty himself up a bit. He glanced down at her. Besides it would be risky taking her with him. Let the dust settle a bit.

She’d obviously watched way too many cop shows.
“Hasta la Vista, baby.” Pure Kojak.
Michael frowned
. Or did Kojak say, “Who loves ya’, baby”?
He decided against asking if she watched the retro television channel.

“We could take my car,” she said, as if reading his mind.

Perfect
.
What the hell?
“Ah, Rachel,” he said, and clicked the remote for the Hummer. He opened the door for her, stood leaning a hand on the top of it as she buckled up. “It might be better if I go down there alone. Get a warrant, and look over the place.”

“You don’t need a warrant. Besides, that could take ages. I’ve got the keys. You’re a friend. We’ll pretend we’re going fishing.” She looked at him and winked.

Fishing? Right.
“You could be putting yourself in danger, and—”

“Look, Michael,” she said, thrusting out her chin. “I’m going back there whether you come with me or not.”

“Why?”

“I’m sure this is connected in some way to Grandpa. I sat back and waited and trusted the cops. The end result…nothing. Not a single damn clue. He’s my only living relative.”

“Okay.” Michael clamped his mouth shut. He pulled in a deep breath through his nose and then let it out. She was stubborn. And he knew beyond a doubt she would go there alone and stir up all kinds of trouble. If she or her grandfather had stumbled upon the Suarez brothers, neither of them would have any idea who they were dealing with. And she could totally wreck his surveillance. “Are you always this reckless?”

“Call it what you want but, yes, I’m known for my spontaneity,” she said, and tilted her chin again. “You should loosen up, try it some time.” She glared at him for a moment, and then snapped on her seat belt. “I mean what’s the alternative, let people walk all over me?”

“Well, you need to protect yourself. This could be dangerous.”

“You said that. I get it.”

Michael waited, thinking he’d let her blow off a bit of steam. Neither one said anything, but they continued to frown at each other.

“The cabin is a few miles north of that stretch of beach where I was attacked,” Rachel finally said. “You said you want to go. I’m willing to take you, so, you in, or not?”

Michael blew out another gust of air. Rachel was not an agent or cop. But he also knew that she’d be safer with him. Every fiber of his being told him she would go back. If the Suarez brothers were this close, he needed to know that, but he sure as hell wouldn’t dangle Rachel as bait. He needed to take the men out before they got the chance to get to Jack. This damn case could split open at the seams any minute. Could he put an ordinary citizen in that kind of danger?

“Are we going?” she asked.

“Okay.” He shut the passenger door and walked around to the other side. “But first we need to get the digital camera.”

“Absolutely.”

He drove back to the garage where the truck was being serviced, and about to get out and open the door, he found Rachel had climbed down. She ran across to the truck. Her recent words flashed into his memory: “He’s my only living relative.”

As much as he didn’t communicate well with his father, he still loved his parents. They were there, in Florida, should he ever have a need for connection and he’d visit them a couple of times a year. And if they were in danger, or went missing, without a doubt he’d do everything in his power to find them. He looked over at Ralph.

The dog had stayed, staring up at him, panting. Michael reached into the back seat and grabbed an old beach towel. He opened the car door and stepped out and walked around to the passenger side. He sat Ralph on the towel, and rubbed him down. First his underbelly, then each sandy paw. Through the front window he watched Rachel laugh and flirt with the mechanic.

Then she hurried back to the Hummer, her legs moving so fast she was almost at a run.

“Let’s hit it,” she said, scooped up Ralph, and then buckled up.

Wherever they were off to, it looked like they were in a hurry. Michael jogged around to the driver’s side, jumped back in, turned the key in the ignition and checked the mirrors.

“Thanks,” she said, and smoothed a hand over Ralph’s back. “You cleaned him up.”

“No problem.” He drove to the edge of the garage parking lot, and stopped the car. “Where’s the jacket, the camera?”

She turned to face him, her jaw hard, her stare determined. “The bastard got it,” she said, and thumped her thigh.

“What? Who?” He waited, not too patiently, his heart pounding, thoughts running wild.

“A guy. Said he was my boyfriend. He told the mechanic I’d left something in the truck.”

“Did you get a description?”

“Yes. Latino…but not the guy who shot at me. Oh, and there was another dude in the car. He identified the truck as Henry’s. The mechanic thought he was on the up and up.”

Michael grimaced and raised his eyebrows.

“Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on,” Rachel said sharply. “The guy said something like, ‘Here it is.’ And then he waved the jacket at him and left. I didn’t want the mechanic to be concerned or to feel badly, so I said we’d broken up, and he just wanted an excuse to come visit me. I also said that if he showed up again to call me on my cell phone, and not to turn the truck over to him.”

“Good.” Michael replayed the morning’s events. He frowned. “How would anyone have known about another camera?”

“Maybe he didn’t put two and two together until after I’d left.” Rachel’s mouth tightened. “Or, he might have been looking for something else. Like registration.”

“Yeah, maybe. Or the passenger could have been our guy, and been in contact with someone who knows you. They could have followed us this morning.”

“That’s a stretch,” Rachel said. “He could also have developed the film from the Leica, if he knew how, and seen it was only geese. And then realized there had to be another camera.”

“Your grandfather’s darkroom?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Is there a one-hour photo place at the sea?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Rachel asked. “There isn’t even a market in Desert Scapes. They have to drive to Salton City to buy stuff. It’s such a crummy area. There are a few inhabited houses, a trailer park, one convenience store that charges an arm and a leg for a loaf of bread, a crummy motel, and a broken down jetty. Oh, and one dingy bar.”

He knew all about the bar. It had become his surveillance home base. With his work being done after dark, he didn’t know much about the amenities in the area.

“There’d be a drugstore in Brawley for sure,” Rachel continued. “But they wouldn’t have been open. Besides, it’s like forty miles away, develop the photos, and then get up here…” She squinted, turning her head to one side. Then she shook her head. “Nah. Not possible.”

He knew they’d been followed. Somebody had watched them enter and leave the PD in Indio. Someone knew she’d left her jacket in the truck when they’d dropped it off at the garage. They probably didn’t want the jacket but instead wanted to search the truck.
But for what?

“Okay,” Rachel said, and looked to the right then the left. “Road’s clear, so let’s go. We’ll get my car, and we’ll haul ass down there.”

“Where?”

“The Salton Sea. Grandpa’s cabin.”

“No way in hell,” he said. He wasn’t including Rachel in his case, but it looked like she thought she was already involved. He’d have to think this through carefully.

He drove the speed limit to her house, following the directions, remembering every detail. He heard Rachel mutter a few times about rigid people who obey all the rules. In between the mutterings she’d either blow out puffs of air, or stroke Ralph’s back, and tell the dog she had no decent camera now, and she’d lost the only windbreaker she’d ever loved.

Michael knew to let her rant, and he kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the road.

“Ah, hell,” she said, and rummaged for her cell phone. “I forgot. I’ll have to call work and arrange a few more things.”

“No. Don’t do that,” he said, as her fingers hovered above her cell phone. For chrissakes, she still planned on going down to the sea. Things had changed. There was another aspect of this camera stealing episode to deal with. The stakes were higher. He couldn’t risk her going there. But how could he prevent her from doing so?

She turned to face him. “Why not?”

“Unless, of course, you don’t want to go to work today, because that would be understandable,” Michael said. “You’ve been through a lot. But if you do want to go to Cliffs I’m happy to provide surveillance.”

“For what reason?”

“To protect you.” Michael shot her a glance and she rolled her eyes at him.

He almost laughed, but this was serious. “If they didn’t find what they wanted they might come looking for you. Besides, you’d have more protection at the bar, and I can be there undercover. It’s a public place. You’d have none of that at the sea.”

“But what about the darkroom?”

“Forget that. I’m sure the cops would have gotten any evidence. I’m worried about you. There could be a connection with these guys to you, or your work, or one of your employees.”

“I doubt that.”

“If I were you, I’d go to work. Appear like nothing is wrong, and then—”

“Of course,” she said, clapping her hands together and excitement causing her voice to rise. “Then we’ll flush them out.” She hit Manuel’s number. Michael listened to the sound of a male voice asking questions.

“I’m fine,” Rachel said. “No problem. I’ll be in to work in a short while.”

Intending to ask about her employees, Michael turned toward her as she shut the cell phone off.

“There,” she said, and pointed toward a small, mocha-colored stucco house, with a burnt orange front door. “Pull up behind the red truck. It’s the gardener’s.”

The house had a flat roof, and a Southwestern feel like the adobe houses in New Mexico. Desert landscaping surrounded the entrance. He liked it, and leaned forward for a better look.

“Let’s make this quick,” she said, and opened the car door. She climbed out while fishing the garage remote out of her backpack. “I almost always enter this way. Come on Ralph.”

The garage door went up, and Ralph jumped from the front seat into Rachel’s outstretched arms. “I’ll back the car out,” she said, over her shoulder. “Then you pull the Hummer in. It’ll be safer locked up.”

“Yes. Thanks. Good idea.”

“I can drop you back at the PD and you can pick up another vehicle. I can follow you here later. There isn’t a lot of crime around this neighborhood, but it’s a fancy car.”

She strode away, the backpack hitting the side of her slim leg, and Ralph’s fluffy white tail sticking out from beneath her arm. Michael grinned, and made a mental note never to cross her. What a tough woman. Her grandfather had raised her to take care of herself. And she seemed to know all about police and undercover procedures. It wasn’t a bad idea at all to leave the Hummer here, instead of in the PD parking lot. That meant she’d drive him back here tonight. He could live with that.

He sat back and waited until the Mustang had been driven out, and then he drove in and parked. Along one wall there were rows of tools, each in its assigned spot. She had a workbench too. He liked a woman who was handy with tools. The more glimpses he had into Rachel Copeland the more he realized he liked her. Then he reminded himself this was not a date. He copied down the gardener’s license plate, just in case. And scanned the other vehicles parked in the area.

Stay focused
.

He patted the gun, still in its holster, slipped his jacket on so as not to alarm neighbors, and then hurried down the concrete pad. The garage door closed behind him. Rachel had kept the motor running. Her red hair tumbled to her shoulders, and Ralph poked his head out the window. They were both raring to go.

He’d ditch Rachel, and then go back to the garage. He needed answers to questions Rachel hadn’t asked the mechanic. And he needed a make on that car.

Half an hour later, he strolled into the garage.

“Well, it’s like this,” the mechanic said, as he scooted out on a palette from beneath the car he’d been working on. He stood and wiped his greasy hands on a greasy rag, then stuck it in the back pocket of his overalls. “I told Rachel I didn’t pay much attention.”

“Why not?” Michael asked as he followed the man.