Friction (10 page)

A
PPARENTLY
, about thirty-five million years ago, a meteor—a big one—had come zooming out of space and smacked directly into the area that was now the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay, leaving a huge crater underneath the water as evidence of the impact. It had changed the shape of the sea floor, the direction of the rivers and the shape of the land as walls of water too large to imagine rose up from the impact and washed away everything.

Sarah looked out past the interpretive plaque that provided basic information on the Chesapeake Crater, and took some comfort from the breadth of the calm water stretched out before her. The Bay looked peaceful and smooth even though something had torn a big hole underneath it, destroying everything, altering all of the life around it forever.

She’d lived through the psychological equivalent years ago, and though she was feeling a similar impact from her argument with Logan, she wasn’t about to let it destroy her. She could withstand it now; she was
tougher, more experienced. She’d worked too hard to get where she was and she wasn’t about to let a man crash down and wash away her strength, her life, her goals. No way. No matter if it did hurt like hell right now.

There was work to be done. She’d left the inn, gone for a walk to clear her head, but she was returning to Norfolk that afternoon to meet with E.J. and Ian. They were working the leads that she’d given them and she had no doubt they would quickly be up to speed on whatever information Logan had denied her. As if he’d thought she couldn’t find out for herself.

Whenever people looked for information, on the phone or on the Web, they left footprints, and she knew exactly how to follow them. Her hacking skills, combined with Ian’s clout and E.J.’s talents, meant Logan didn’t stand a chance. Armed with that and with what he’d told her, it wouldn’t take long to figure out the next step.

Of course, that was the long way of finding out what Logan was up to. The short way was to call Ian, tell him what had happened—that Logan was hotdogging it—and have Ian put a tail on him. See where he went and follow him there. And that’s what she’d done. Logan wasn’t going to get far without them knowing.

Later that day she was meeting up with E.J. and Ian at the office to go over their next move. She just hoped they figured it out in time to keep Logan from getting himself killed or thrown off the force. She understood his need to clear his partner’s name and find out what had happened—she’d do the same for Ian or E.J., if need be—but it was his resolute rejection of her help
that made no sense. And that was the part that hurt, too. Apparently he was only interested in her help in the sack.

As she turned away from the shore she stopped, hearing a choking sob. She listened more intently. Someone was crying. Was someone hurt? Perhaps there was a lost child?

Making her way down over a steep, sandy ledge she found the source: Ivy. Sitting on the wet sand, she was bent over with her face in her hands, her slight shoulders shaking.

She took a slow step closer, not wanting to startle the young woman.

“Ivy? Are you all right?”

Ivy looked up with tear-reddened eyes, misery carved into her features.

“Ivy, what happened? Are you okay?”

The girl didn’t say anything clear as a yes or a no, but wailed something unintelligible, and Sarah sighed, squatting down in the slushy sand beside her, placing her palm on Ivy’s shoulder to support herself as well as comfort.

“Ivy, talk to me. Why are you crying? Are you hurt? Can I help?”

Ivy took several deep breaths and seemed to compose herself.

“I’m sorry I interrupted. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Ivy reached over and grabbed her hand. Sarah waited for some more sobs to pass so she could speak. The young woman’s hand was like ice, but her grip was strong.

“I’m sorry I just can’t…seem to s-stop c-crying….”

“It’s okay. Did something happen at work? Did you get in trouble? Were you fired?”

Ivy shook her head, biting her lip to choke back another sob, and Sarah realized the problem was personal as hot color flared in Ivy’s cheeks.

“It’s Jim,” Sarah guessed flatly and watched Ivy nod. “What did he do? What happened?”

“W-we went out the other night. He took me for dinner, then on a nighttime paddle, and we ended up along this deserted stretch of beach. It was very romantic.”

“Oh, God, Ivy. Did he rape you?” Sarah spun the young woman around, searching her face and hoping to God her first instincts were wrong. She felt the breath she was holding whoosh out of her as Ivy shook her head vigorously.

“Oh, no! No! We had a wonderful night, and we did, you know, f-fool around a little. He said I was different than the other girls he dated around here.”

Yeah, right,
Sarah thought to herself, but stayed silent. Guys hadn’t come up with any new lines in decades. It was a shame the old ones still worked so well.

“So what happened, then?”

“L-like I said, we fooled around. I didn’t mean to let things go so far, but he was so sweet. And I liked how it felt when he touched me. It never felt like that with anyone else. He asked me to trust him and I did—and it was amazing. I didn’t know, I, um, you know.” Ivy blushed furiously and looked out the sea.

Sarah didn’t want to invite too many details—girl
talk wasn’t exactly her forte—and nodded. “So what’s the problem?”

Tears filled Ivy’s eyes again, and Sarah started to feel impatience edge her mood—she’d had a crappy morning, and was looking at a long afternoon ahead of her. Now that she knew Ivy hadn’t been physically attacked, she was anxious to get past the drama and move on.

“I went to see him this morning, to surprise him with some breakfast from the inn. When I got down to the dock, he was with some woman. He was kissing her. And not in the way you kiss your sister or friend, if you know what I mean.”

Some temper flared in the girl’s soft expression, and Sarah was relieved—temper she could work with. And it sounded like Ivy had every right to be angry. But she’d also been gullible, and now she was paying for it. Sarah knew that lesson by heart.

“It sucks to get burned like that, but he wasn’t the right one for you. Men will say whatever they can to get what they want, Ivy, and you need to remember that. You can’t just trust a guy because you have a crush on him, and you had warning about Jim. It could have been a lot worse than it is, and believe me, next time you’ll know better.”

Ivy paled beneath Sarah’s harsh tone, obviously expecting more sympathy than she’d received, but Sarah was already standing. She may have been a little unfeeling, but she didn’t particularly want to feel too much at the moment. Feelings just confused the issue and led to more trouble. She had things to do, more important things than dealing with Ivy’s—or her own—bruised heart.

“S
O WHERE IS HE
?”

Sarah barged into Ian’s office, pinning her gaze on the two men standing before her, expecting news. E.J. quirked a smooth eyebrow and made a tsk-tsk sound.

“Whatever happened to good manners? Hello to you, too, darlin’.”

“Save it. I’ve been on the phone with you both all morning. We said hello hours ago.”

“You modern girls. There’s no charm.”

“Yeah, like that’s what you want with the hundred women you have in your PDA. Charm.”

He grinned. “It sure doesn’t hurt any.” E.J.’s easy teasing helped her tone it down a notch, but not by much. Ian was shaking his head, and began to bring her up to date.

“Logan checked into a motel on the beach, and left a little while ago to get some food, and then he stopped by a tux rental place,” Ian related.

“He rented a tux?”

“Yeah, so he’s obviously planning on attending some type of formal event. We have a list of all formal eve
ning events in the area. His name’s not on any lists, but he’s probably using an assumed identity.”

Sarah took the list. Something was off here.

“Where is he now?”

Ian drew in a long breath, and E.J. looked away. Sarah repeated her question. Finally, Ian gave.

“We’re not sure.”

“You
lost
him?”

Ian nodded. He looked tired, but that wasn’t really new. Although life with Sage had tempered his workaholic habits somewhat, he still worked long hours, especially when they were active on a case. She backed down because she knew it would bug Ian more than anyone that they’d lost their lead. Her shoulders slumped.

“Shit.”

“Exactly.”

“Did you guys come up with any more from what I told you?”

E.J. nodded. “We have the woman, his partner, listed as staying at a Virginia Beach hotel before her disappearance. We requested the files from Baltimore.”

“You let them know about Logan?”

“No. We just said we needed them as part of a larger investigation.”

Sarah felt relief wash through her. She was pissed at Logan for a lot of reasons, but she didn’t want to blow his career if she didn’t have to.

“So what else do we have?”

“We know what room he stayed in at the motel. We’re not sure if he made the tail at that point, so he could have
felt safe enough to make some phone calls, or make some plans.”

“Did you get into the room?”

“Not yet.”

She looked at them, shocked. “How did you guys ever catch any bad guys without me?”

E.J. quirked an eyebrow at the comment—both he and Ian had been in law enforcement when Sarah was still in college. “Somehow we managed. But in this case, we thought you’d want to be in on it. If he made phone calls, maybe you can find out to where or to whom.”

“I’d need access to the motel’s computer.”

“We could get a search warrant for that.”

“That would take a while.”

“Yep.”

She pursed her lips, speaking the unspoken thoughts shared among them. “I’ll need about five minutes alone with the desk computer.”

Ian and E.J. grinned. “No problem.”

A
SHORT WHILE
later Ian, E.J. and Sarah stood in the lobby of the small seaside motel. At its best, the place would be considered a fleabag. Hourly rates were posted and a sleazy little man sat in a swivel chair behind the sign-in desk, his head barely showing over the laminate counter. He peered at E.J. as he approached, Ian and Sarah staying back, huddled by the door, pawing each other suggestively.

“I need a room.”

“Just you?”

“Uh-uh, the three of us.”

The little weasel took his attention away from his online game long enough to smile in a sleazy, appreciative fashion. E.J. wanted to deck him right there.

“How long?”

“Three hours.”

“Fifty bucks upfront.” E.J. peeled off the bills from an impressive roll of cash that had the little man practically salivating. It took so little to impress such people.

“I need room eighteen.” He smiled conspiratorially. “My lucky number.”

“Right. My lucky number is twenty.” E.J. peeled off another twenty, waving it in front of the man’s beady eyes. He shrugged, handing him the key to room eighteen.

“Your money, pal.” He looked over E.J.’s shoulder to where Sarah lounged against the doorjamb looking impatient and Ian leered at her convincingly. “Don’t pull a muscle—she looks like a wild one.”

“You can only imagine.”

Within a few minutes they were in room eighteen, and though they searched the place thoroughly, there was no sign Logan had been there. Sarah turned to E.J. and couldn’t help grinning.

“You make a convincing dirtbag when you work at it. Do you come to these places often?”

“Please, Sarah, you insult me. I only take women to the best hotels.”

He looked down at the tacky clothes he’d picked up from the station’s lost and found—he didn’t really want to think too much about where they had come from—and ran a hand over his thick, sandy hair now slicked back with hair grease. None of the women he dated would touch him with a ten-foot pole looking like this.

“Will this stuff ever come out?”

“Sure. Just don’t go for a swim or the EPA will be after you.”

Ian glared at them, ceasing the teasing with an intense look in Sarah’s direction—Ian was almost always intense.

“You sure you can do this? We won’t have much time.”

“You’re kidding, right? Of course I can do it. All I have to do is hook into their PBX, find the numbers he called, if any, and we can do a reverse lookup back at the office. Piece of cake.”

She pulled off her leather jacket, tossed her shoes away and stripped down to her bra and short skirt without blinking an eye. It was only Ian and E.J., after all. She smudged her lipstick with her fist and mussed her hair, leveling them a look.

“Uh, think maybe you should join me, here?” E.J. wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously. “God, I love it when you go all Brooklyn.”

They quickly stripped down to basics as well, and Sarah took a deep breath, grabbing a sheet while the guys did their part, wrecking the bed and breaking a lamp, and then turned to each other. E.J. smiled. “All in good fun. Remember, stay away from the face. I have a date tonight.”

Sarah took a deep breath, wrapping the sheet around her as she went for the door, flinging it open, another crash sounding behind her as the guys did their part. She took off at a run for the office and burst in the door, yelling at the top of her lungs for help. A couple was signing in at the desk and stared at her wide-eyed. The scrawny man from behind darted out to face her.

“What the hell? What are you doing?”

Sarah gulped breaths, doing her best imitation of being panicked, and poured it on. Grabbing his shoulders, she let the sheet slip a little and watched his eyes dip, the worm.

“You gotta get up there, they’re wreckin’ the place, they’re gonna kill each other!”

The smarmy desk clerk looked at her in confusion, then seemed to remember she’d come in with two men—she imagined short-term memory loss was an advantage in his line of work. Grabbing his shoulders, she pushed him toward the door.

“Go! I’ll call the police! You aren’t going to have a room left by the time they get done.”

“Damn losers, come in a place and wreck it—I shoulda known when I saw you.” He dove behind the desk, emerging with a baseball bat, and tipped it in Sarah’s direction. “I knew
you
would cause trouble. Could tell the minute I saw you.”

The other couple had already hightailed it out the door, and the worm followed behind. Sarah screamed at him about it not being her fault as she watched him go and then hurried behind the sign-in desk to the computer.

“Shit. Passworded.” She didn’t have time to try to figure it out, but had a hunch and lifted the keyboard, then searched behind the monitor, and finally under the TV. Nothing. But the sleazeball obviously had a hard time remembering his own name, so he had to have it here somewhere.

Taking out a slim drawer in the center of the beat-up desk, she saw a small, ragged piece of paper with a nasty acronym and what was probably his PIN number. She shook her head.

“Dumber than I even thought.”

She punched in the acronym, the screen freed and she wiggled gleefully in the chair, her fingers firing over the keys like a machine gun as she accessed the information they needed. Within minutes, she had the numbers—two calls had come from room eighteen last night.

She hurriedly wrote down the numbers and shut down the screen as she heard hollers and cursing just before the clerk burst through the door again, Ian and E.J. right behind him. He spotted Sarah.

“Hey, what are you doing back there? Get out of there!”

She let her head sag to the side. “I was calling the cops, moron. I couldn’t reach the phone from back there.”

He held the bat threateningly toward Ian and E.J., and Sarah almost smiled. Her friends were under no threat at all from the little man—either of them could put that bat where the sun didn’t shine within a hot second if they wanted to.

“You two done fighting over me now? Maybe we can get down to having a little fun.” She walked up to E.J. and dragged her finger down his chest. “Now that you’re all worked up.”

“You bet, baby.” E.J. caught her by the waist and drew her close, winking at Ian. But the little man was having none of it.

“No way, you guys are freakin’ crazy. The cops will be here, and you’re paying for that room. I’m pressing charges!”

Of course, there were no cops coming. But he didn’t know that.

E.J. loosened Sarah’s hold and reached for his wallet again, bending his head down to talk with the clerk in a whisper. “Listen, I can’t afford another arrest, okay? How about I pay you for the damage, let my girl get her clothes, and we’ll take this party elsewhere?”

The clerk’s beady eyes reflected his indecision as he looked at Sarah again, now draped over Ian, but then he caught view of E.J.’s wad of cash. He backed off, putting down the bat.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever. Give me the cash and get the hell out of here.”

B
ACK AT THE OFFICE
, it didn’t take Sarah long to do a reverse lookup on the phone numbers. She was even more motivated to work fast because she was still wearing the hooker skirt she’d worn to the motel and it kept riding up far higher than she was comfortable with.

“Okay. I got it. He called Starline Cruises. Twice.”

“That’s a gaming cruise service. They run short trips, out past the legal boundaries, where state and federal gambling laws don’t apply.”

“That’s legal?”

“Gambling is a big part of southern history—think of the Mississippi riverboats—and in this case, they don’t gamble until they’re far out on the water. So it’s a loophole, but it works. There’s a lot of it along the coast, some legit, some a cover for other operations.”

Sarah sat silently for a minute, then snapped up straight in her chair, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together.

“Yes, that’s it! I remember now, when I was arguing with Logan, he said something about how jurisdiction didn’t matter. That’s gotta mean he’s out on one of those boats.”

“Give me the number,” Ian said.

Sarah and E.J. waited while Ian called, and he turned back to them as he hung up.

“He couldn’t have made any trips today. The next one is tomorrow morning. He may be on that one. It’s the next one out.”

“I’m going.” Sarah was adamant, and her partners looked at her curiously.

“Okay. But you’re going in wired. You get in, see what he’s up to, and let us know if you find anything. You’ll be under constant surveillance,” Ian said.

Sarah shook her head. “A transmitter’s too risky.”

Ian grinned like a kid. “Not the one I can get for you to use. Give me a few hours. Call and book yourself on tomorrow morning’s boat.”

Ian loved new toys, and she knew he was always keeping up with the latest in surveillance equipment. With his connections Ian often got his hands on things that few police departments could afford. He left E.J. and Sarah together and she reached for the phone, eager to get going.

It took her less than five minutes to make the arrangements for the cruise. Hanging up, she caught E.J.’s stare as he lay back in his chair, legs stretched out, his arms crossed over his chest, pulling the material of his suit a little tight at the shoulder. E.J. always wore suits to work. Expensive suits.

“What?”

“How did you find out about what Logan was up to? Doesn’t sound like he was exactly forthcoming, and he obviously doesn’t want our help.”

Sarah closed her eyes and sat back in her own chair.

“He had some pictures. They fell out of an envelope when I accidentally knocked it off the table in his room. They were porn, and I nailed him, thinking he was either a consumer or a producer. He told me then why he had them. The rest is history. I told Ian, didn’t he fill you in?”

“Why were you in his room?”

“What are you, my father?”

“Do I look like your father?”

“Maybe, thirty years ago. Especially around the eyes.”

“You are such a smartass. So, you’re involved with this guy?”

“E.J.—” Her address took on a warning tone, but he interrupted again, leaning forward.

“I’m just wondering. I’m concerned. You get a strange look about you when you say his name. When you talk about him. Not a look I’ve seen before.”

“God, have you been watching
Dr. Phil?
I get a
look?
” She pursed her lips, repressing a grin. “Or are you just jealous?”

He rolled his eyes at her and she knew she wouldn’t get him off the scent until she told him something. Once E.J. honed in on something, he rarely let go until he was satisfied. She threw her hands up.

“Okay, fine. I was in his room because, yeah, we had a little fling. That’s all.”

“Then it’s over?”

“There wasn’t any ‘it’ to be over. It was just a…thing.” Her voice was flat and convincing, but it didn’t stop the little dull ache the lie brought with it.

“I think it was more than a fling. You don’t do flings.”