Dark Secrets Page 4

  Her phone buzzed again.

  She began gathering her materials, rinsing samples down the sink, and placing her mini-equipment back into her travel kit. Her phone buzzed again and, exasperatedly snapping off her gloves, Grace finally picked it up and looked at it.

  Nate.

  It was the only name she’d put into her phone, not Ryder, not Detective. Just Nate. Deciding to ignore the implications of that, she hit the button and said, “Hello?”

  Even as she did it, she registered the information on the small screen. He’d called about five times in the last hour or so. His frantic tone relayed that. “Where are you?”

  “In my room.”

  “Not at the motel where Jimmy died, right?” The words fought each other, tumbling together. He was clearly worried.

  “No, of course not. That place was a health hazard.” She thought she was being funny, but her brother had died there. He’d gone there in the first place. Jimmy’s addiction had brought a lot of strange things to her life, that was for sure.

  “Where are you!” It wasn’t a question, more of a panicked demand.

  She rattled off the name of the hotel. As soon as she did it, her brain pricked. Was Nate worried? Or was he frantic because he was in on it and she was digging up too much evidence? For a moment, she even questioned whether any of the blood in the samples was his.

  But that was crazy.

  He would have to be an excellent actor to pull off his reactions earlier that morning. Also, he wouldn’t have helped get her the entire file from the M.E.’s office. While she sorted her doubt, Nate was still talking.

  “Where have you been today?”

  Deciding she had to trust someone and that Nate was the best bet, she told him.

  “Shit! You went to the room where Jimmy died?”

  “And I rented the other rooms and checked them out.”

  “Dammit, Grace!” He sounded angry, upset, and maybe afraid.

  “What’s going on, Nate?” She almost whispered it. He’d likely been working the rest of the long afternoon, too. What had he found that had him calling her and flipping out?

  “You may have put a target on your back. They killed Jimmy. The cover up leaves no doubt in my mind—”

  “I have more evidence. Proof really,” she interrupted him.

  “Tell me later. I’m assuming you checked in with your real name?”

  She almost laughed. “Yes, I’m no James Bond here. Just a scientist.”

  “I—I—…I want to get you out of there as soon as possible. But I don’t think I want you going anywhere. Can you pack up and be ready to walk out the door when I get there?”

  “Yes,” she was whispering again, suddenly very afraid. He seemed to think someone was going to come murder her. Or worse.

  “Bolt your door. Don’t open it for anyone but me. Charge your phone. I’ll call you when I get there. Should be about twenty minutes door to door.” The noises in the background sounded like he was in the car and driving around. Probably now on his way to get her. “Do you have a gun?”

  “No.” Though she’d never carried one, she suddenly felt the need.

  “Don’t open the door for anyone. Not for maintenance, room service, even a fire. If anyone knocks, don’t say anything. Go in the bathroom and call me where they can’t hear you.”

  “Okay.” She wanted to say it sounded extreme, but he was scaring her.

  They hung up and she finished packing faster than she’d ever done in her life. Then, because she was sitting on the edge of the bed, tense with nothing to do, she tried her packing ritual of touching everything. Cell phone. Laptop. Wallet. She opened it and checked that her ID was still in place along with her cards and cash. Clothes. Field lab kit. Grace double checked the table surface where she’d been working.

  Heading into the restroom, she grabbed a washcloth and wet a spot. She proceeded to wipe down the table. Though she didn’t think she’d spilled anything from the samples she knew—more than most anyone—what a forensic team might find. There was no reason to think the bad guys, whoever they were, would have a team like that, but they had at least one person in the M.E.’s office on their side, so why not a forensic team member?

  She was tossing the washcloth on the counter in the bathroom when she thought better of it. It now held everything she’d wiped off the table. Folding it up, she shoved it down into her bags.

  Just then, her phone rang, and her heart skipped three beats.

  Chapter Eight

  Nate stood outside the hotel room door telling his heart to quit galloping. She was safe. She was inside. He could hear Grace coming to check out the peep hole and then sliding the bolt. She was okay. But his heart wasn’t slowing.

  Not until she threw the door wide and just stood there looking at him, terrified. The problem was, she had every reason to be.

  Looking both ways down the hall to make certain he wasn’t followed, Nate stepped quickly into the room and bolted the door behind him. Grace was still standing in front of him looking uncertain when he pulled her into his arms. She melted into him, folding into his touch just as he began to think how inappropriate his action had been. She hugged him tighter, making him glad he’d done it and glad she was on the same page.

  Three breaths, that’s all he allowed himself. She felt right against him, something he was in no position to think about right now. Grabbing her upper arms and pushing her back, he leaned down so their eyes were level. “We have to get out of here right now. But the truth is, I have no idea if anyone even realizes you’re in town and what you’re doing. It may be a big panic for nothing.”

  “But it might be something,” she whispered. “I checked out all the rooms around where Jimmy died. There’s some strange activity there. And only later did I realize that room eleven is special. So they certainly have an eye on it.”

  He nodded. Smart woman. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He was picking up one of her bags and letting her get the other. The gentlemanly thing to do for a southern woman would be to carry all the bags, but he needed one hand free to get to his gun, leaving no room for proper manners.

  Nate was pleased to see her smaller bag was a backpack and she put her phone in her pocket. Not only book smart, but street smart. No wonder he liked her so much—if he was willing to admit it. He faced the door and looked over his shoulder. “Ready?”

  She offered one nod and he opened the door, holding his breath. The hallway was mercifully empty. Unable to hold her hand—just to keep them tethered—he put Grace in front of him giving him a wider range the other direction—where he most expected an attack to come from. But he had to push her forward when she naturally stopped at the bank of elevators. “Elevators can be a trap. Stairs.”

  She didn’t respond, just kept moving forward silently and he was grateful she was only on the eighth floor. At each level as they practically ran down the stairs, a huge door with a number marked their progress. The solid metal meant no one could see them passing by. But it also meant he couldn’t see out. Couldn’t get any information. They made it down through the metal twists and turns without incident and Nate was starting to pray things might go smoothly.

  He held his breath again at the bottom. This time he had to open the door not knowing what was on the other side. For a moment, he listened and didn’t hear anything beyond what he would expect in a hotel this size. So he pushed the door open and found the hallway blessedly empty.

  Trying to appear casual, they headed out toward the lobby, but as they neared the open space, he spotted something he didn’t like. “Turn around! Go the other way.”

  He led Grace all the way out through the door at the end of the hallway. Outside. He wanted to think of it as freedom, but he knew better. Grace still didn’t ask. He didn’t think Greg Slater had seen him, but the fact that the man was in the lobby of Grace’s hotel was disturbing. Coincidence or not.

  Nate couldn’t afford to think of it as anything less. His heart rate kick
ed up again as he thought of his options. One was for him to go back through the lobby, look Slater in the eyes and pass by. He could get the car and drive around back, picking up Grace. But that would leave her unprotected. Even for a few short minutes, it was too much. And if Slater followed him out? Then he wouldn’t be able to get her at all, leaving her in even more danger. Nope. Not a plan. His car was out front.

  Route in mind, he touched her elbow. “We’re heading around the back and looping around straight to my car.”

  As they walked, he gave her instructions to look casual, but get the backpack off before she got to the car. She wasn’t to throw it in the back, just climb right in. Not frantic, but not slowly either. Their actions couldn’t look suspicious, but he wanted her safe in the car as soon as possible. If only the car was safe.

  She followed directions to a T, sliding into the passenger seat, backpack on her lap even as he had to open the back door to toss her luggage in. He slid into the driver’s side, his adrenaline pumping from having seen Slater. There was no telling how many people Slater had around the hotel on the lookout for Grace. Maybe for Nate, too.

  It could be nothing. He was certainly paranoid given Grace’s poking around. The engine started smoothly and he pulled out of the spot, heading casually to the exit to the main road. He was just starting to think he’d done it when he heard the squeal of tires behind him.

  Chapter Nine

  Grace grabbed the handlebar over her door as Nate spun around yet another turn. It seemed all his paranoia had been spot on.

  She’d inadvertently alerted someone to the fact that she was digging into Jimmy’s death. It hadn’t even occurred to her that her research would let her brother’s killer know she was digging. She was usually brought in by the police, after things were secure. She was never a target.

  Until now, apparently.

  She was grateful for Nate and his tactical driving skills. But she didn’t speak to him. He had too much on his mind just keeping them safe. He’d told her to get low and stay there and she was doing her best to crouch down and stay out of range of bullets. Grace stayed as quiet as she could, afraid of distracting him.

  He took another turn and another. She was waiting for him to pull into a parking spot and wait for whoever was chasing them to blast past, but apparently that was just for movies. Probably it was a good way to get cornered. She’d never had to think about these things before.

  She glanced over, sitting up now, as Nate had finally told her she could. Her heart was racing and she could see Nate breathing heavily.

  “Did we lose them?” It sounded stupid as the words fell out laced with uncertainty.

  “I hope so. We just have to sit tight and see.” Digging his phone out of his pocket, he hit a few buttons and handed it to her before putting his hands back on the wheel. “I’m calling my partner. It’s on speaker.”

  It rang twice before a female voice came on the line. “Man, where are you? The GPS on your car is going crazy. Winfield got an alert at the tech desk and came to me.”

  “That’s exactly my problem, Mari. Are you at the station? I need this private. Very private.”

  Grace held the phone while they waited on the line. It took several minutes for Zaragosa—according to the display on Nate’s phone—to come back. She took advantage of it. “Who was after us? You recognized him?”

  “Slater X. Street dealer. One of the big guys. We catch his people out and about, but he’s Teflon. Greg Slater by birth, but my guess is no one the street would answer to Greg.” His eyes darted around, filling her in but still watching for any threats. “Your brother died with heroin in his arm. Now, one of the biggest local street dealers is in your hotel and following us.” His eyes darted again, his hands still on the steering wheel though they stayed at the bottom of it and out of sight.

  He sighed. “I’m not sure if we should stay in the car or get out and get on foot. We can’t keep your luggage if we get out. What’s in it?”

  “Clothes, shampoo, the usual, but also my field kit.” When he motioned her to keep going, she got more specific. “I have blood samples from room eleven, and test results from them.”

  This time his eyes went wide. “You ran lab tests in the hotel?”

  “Only the most basic ones, but yes.” She nodded at him. They couldn’t leave her bag. This was looking worse and worse and she had evidence in that kit. No way. She wasn’t going to let someone bury Jimmy’s murder.

  Nate came to the same conclusion. “So we stay in the car.”

  Just then, the voice came back on the line. “I’m in the parking lot, in my personal vehicle. Talk.”

  “We just got chased out of Grace’s hotel by Slater.”

  “In the flesh?”

  “Yes,” Nate took a deep breath and Grace watched as he seemed to calm down a bit. “Here’s the problem. I was thinking I’d bring Grace in and we’d be safe. But if someone in the M.E.’s office is in with Slater—or Slater’s in with whoever did it—then I can’t trust that no one in the PD is on the other side either.”

  “Shit. I had not gotten that far with it.” Zaragosa sounded flustered and Grace felt it to her toes.

  What had these two dug up this afternoon? The feeling of dread in her gut amplified as it sunk in that she had two police officers worried they couldn’t trust their own precinct.

  “I need a car that can’t be tracked by GPS and also isn’t registered to me or any one closely connected to me. Slater had to have seen me at some point. I need clothes. My things. I need cash. Grace is covered. I can’t take her to a safe house. She’s carrying evidence.”

  “Evidence?” Detective Zaragosa sounded shocked.

  “She’s been running around with a field kit. She rented room eleven and took samples.”

  “She found something?” Her voice came through the line with shock.

  “Several somethings,” Grace spoke up for the first time. “More in the autopsy report, too.”

  This time Nate turned and looked at her with eyes wide. “You still have the file on you?”

  “In my bag.” She patted the backpack, still clutched tightly in her lap.

  He breathed a sigh of relief at that and he and his partner made plans. Grace didn’t know her way around, so she didn’t know what the addresses meant, though clearly the two officers did.

  She didn’t understand until Nate put the car in gear and pulled into the closest parking spot at a row of shops. He opened his door and climbed out, telling her, “We’re on foot now.”

  Chapter Ten

  By the time Nate pushed open the door of the small house, he was exhausted. He was hungry, cranky, and likely had pine needles in his hair. Though he’d thought they couldn’t bring her bags on foot, it turned out they had to figure out how. She had evidence in there and he couldn’t leave it behind.

  Because he’d insisted on carrying Grace’s suitcase, one hand had been full—his left hand. He’d kept the right at his side, available to grab his gun should the need arise.

  After the car chase that had happened suddenly, he wasn’t even going to pick the leaves out of his hair. He had to be ready. Since he wasn’t a good shot with his left hand, he hadn’t been able to switch carrying hands and as he finally set the bag down, he felt as though he might just tip over the other way.

  “Thank you.” Her words were soft and sincere, but not overly fawning.

  Just as he decided he liked the sound of that, she added, “You could have pulled the evidence out and left the suitcase behind.”

  Nate shook his head. “What would you wear—"

  “You think I’m that much of a problem? I’m a pro. I dig dead bodies out of the dirt for a living. I’m not concerned about what I will wear.”

  “No, let me finish…what will you wear when we have to get out of here and we need to be looking as different as possible? What if we left the suitcase behind and they found it? They might know too much about you. If we left it in the woods, we would have been putting
evidence directly between the car and our destination—this house. And what if we’d left some of the evidence behind?” Though he was tilting and his shoulder burned from carrying a suitcase that couldn’t be wheeled down a forest path, he believed it was the right decision. "We'll repack everything into the backpack and my bag from here.”

  “Your bag?”

  He shrugged. “I’m getting one.”

  When she set down the smaller bag she’d carried, Grace arched one delicate eyebrow at him. Nate ignored it and looked to his phone, then he called Mari’s brother. Hopefully it was a call chain that wouldn’t be traced.

  Sure enough, the brother did a great job getting to Mari and he got a call back within twenty minutes. He’d managed to scrounge through the cupboards and find granola bars. He didn’t check the expiration date before ripping one open and shoving half of it into his mouth, but he did check before tossing one to Grace. He wasn’t a detective for nothing and even he found his behavior just a little odd.

  “Where are we?” she asked after finishing the snack and looking around.

  Nate followed where her eyes went, to the couch with curled wooden armrests and ornate feet. The colors were in some long-outdated scheme, he guessed, and didn’t match either of the chairs set off to the sides. Doilies draped the back of each seat of the couch and protected the wooden side tables from the lamps and glass dishes of peppermints that rested on each. The dust at the base of the lamps made the candies questionable. “It’s where Mari told us to come. It belonged to the grandparents of a fellow officer—one I trust with my life…and yours.”

  “Belonged?” Grace didn’t miss a beat. He liked that.

  “They passed about three months ago apparently. He hasn’t had a chance to sell the house, so it’s our lucky day.” He re-thought those last words only after they came out of his mouth. This was not at all a lucky day. And Grace was only here because she’d lost her brother a few days ago. She appeared to be grieving through work and that was something he understood. “He knew about the key to the back door and Mari’s advising us to lay low for a bit until she can send reinforcements.”