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  She put her fingers on her chin as if considering it. “I sleep with earplugs in, so I don’t think I did. So the guy was shot?”

  “Ma’am, I’m not here to disseminate information, I’m here to gather it. So, if you’ll go back to your home and let me do my job, that will help me tremendously.” He turned off his car and grabbed for the door handle to get out, but she wasn’t moving.

  He knew that look. Oh, no. This wasn’t going to be that easy. He hoped asking about a gunshot would get her in her house, calling the other neighbors to ask if they’d heard. It didn’t matter they wouldn’t have heard one. At least not in Sousa’s house. He’d have to make it seem like he’d given her something, and maybe let her feel like she’d helped him.

  Zane shoved the car door open, forcing her to move or get knocked over. He stood towering in front of her little five-foot, six inch, one-hundred-and-twenty-pound frame.

  Looking down on her, he said, “But maybe you know something you’d like to tell me. Sousa said he was screwing one of his married neighbors. Was it you? Maybe you know more about him than any of us? What did you say your name was?” He pulled out a pen and pad as if to jot the information.

  Pink Bathrobe Lady turned crimson. She huffed and puffed, and stomped back to her townhouse. Maybe Chad was screwing her, Zane thought. No way, that bitch was way too uptight. He laughed as he headed to the front yard.

  He had no intention of going in the house, not needing to see anything inside. He wanted to get a good look from the outside. This was a long street, and right off a main thoroughfare, so anyone could come by and not be noticed.

  He walked away from the townhouse to get a broader view of the neighborhood. Clean, middle class, newer construction at this end, with condos and town homes. One block down stood upper middle-class, single-family homes. At the other end of the street, railroad tracks. As close to being on the other side of the tracks without actually being there, he thought as he looked at the low-income housing just past the tree line.

  Whoever visited Sousa could have come from any direction and not been noticed. Not at night. Traffic was mild, maybe a car every few minutes. Who would even think twice about a man (or woman) walking down the street, knocking on someone’s door? Zane walked back toward Sousa’s house. His car was parked where Sousa’s had been the previous night. Sousa’s had been moved to the impound yard to be processed as part of the crime scene.

  Scoping out the houses, the sidewalk, and Sousa’s front door, he tried to imagine it was early morning hours. Who the hell would have been on the street to see someone follow Sousa into his house? He looked at the front porches of the houses he could see, looking for home security cameras. Didn’t everyone have them these days? He didn’t see a single one in the three townhouses on either side of Sousa’s place.

  Maybe the person had been in the police vehicle with Sousa. He’d had Trevino grab fibers from the passenger seat, right? Billy did say a sketchy looking guy had been riding with Sousa that day.

  Pulling out his phone, he sent Trevino a text.

  No matter how Zane looked at it, whoever met up with Sousa knew when, where, and how to not be seen.

  A car drove by.

  Zane swore he’d seen that silver Pontiac drive by at least once already and tried to get a plate number as it turned the corner. Or had it been parked in front of one of the other houses? Either way, he knew he’d seen it before.

  Walking back to his car, he got in and sat in the driver’s seat, contemplating. When he looked up, he saw Pink Bathrobe looking at him from her front window, arms crossed tightly across her robe, squishing her already squishy looking boobs. He smiled and waved.

  Before he even had a chance to turn the key in the ignition, Trevino’s vehicle pulled in behind.

  Zane rolled down his window, but stayed in the car.

  “Hey, Sergeant, what’s up?” Trevino said.

  “We’re gonna knock on doors again. Do you have the list of houses with no one home last night?”

  “I can get it easy enough. I’ll go print it out. What are we gonna ask that hasn’t already been asked and answered?”

  Zane gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to check his temper. This investigation had him on edge. “Same questions, same people, see if you get any different answer. Be especially nice, because we are interrupting their day. If they say they already talked to the police, explain we’re asking again as follow up. And we need to make sure we hit the houses where there was no answer at the door last night. And while you’re on the porch, look for security cameras that might have a street view.”

  Trevino nodded. “I’ll print a copy of that report for you.”

  And so began the tedious process of questioning the neighbors. Some of the people would be questioned for the second or third time. Zane wanted to talk to them more than once, see if they remembered anything they couldn’t remember in the middle of the night. Maybe something came to them while they drank their morning coffee. He’d take anything at this point.

  After two hours of asking the same questions, and getting a variety of answers leading nowhere, Zane got the call. He had the warrant. He decided to let Trevino finish while he followed up on Sousa’s cell phone history.

  Picking up the warrant, Zane headed straight to Cellular Station, which was just a few miles away. He really wanted to go home and sleep, but he went to the store instead.

  Chapter 14

  The gun range Kate used in Peculiar happened to be a private club. The club catered to law enforcement, in that LEOs who were members could shoot at any time. The general public could shoot from eight in the morning until sundown or nine-thirty. The range had lights, so Kate could go shoot at midnight if she wanted. All that was required was her gate pass. No lights required this time, since she’d arrived mid-morning.

  She stopped outside the gate, opened the center console on her Jeep Grand Cherokee, and pulled out her member card. Thank goodness all her personal belongings had been sent to the house, even if her official vehicle had been parked at the station. Kate considered it fair enough, though she didn’t want anyone else driving her vehicle. She had the seat adjusted perfectly. And she knew from the experience of training Jake Underwood that she didn’t like readjusting it, because it never seemed quite right.

  Pressing the code into the gate panel, she settled back into her seat and waited. A surge of energy ran through her. It had been months since she touched her service weapon, and the thought of firing and not being as good scared her. What if somehow her wounds had hampered with her abilities? The broken nose alone would make things look a little different. She already felt as if she saw one side of her nose more prominently than the other when she looked cross-eyed.

  Driving up the hill to the parking area, she wondered if she still had off-hours access. They all knew her as a cop, but Peculiar was a small town and word about her injuries had likely spread.

  She parked, then leaned around to the backseat, where she had her Sig Sauer P320 in its case. She tried to follow the rule of non-law enforcement. Though, because she had a LTC (license to carry), she could have her weapon concealed anywhere on her person, or open carry in a holster. If she didn’t have a permit, she’d have to keep the Sig in the glove compartment, with the magazine out, and the weapon empty.

  She considered her current status. Unlocking the case, she wondered if she’d ever get used to being just a plain old citizen. She hoped she didn’t have to.

  Since the Sig Sauer didn’t have a safety, she kept it in the safety holster. She removed the magazine, then ejected the live round from the chamber, leaving the action open. This was how all weapons must be carried to and from the range. With the gun empty and safe, she grabbed everything she needed, including earplugs and safety goggles, and headed for the door.

  The private club didn’t have full-time staff, and therefore she was on her own. When she entered the firing range, she saw only three other members. She walked up to an open station and waited.r />
  The first person at the range took the position of range master and called out the “fire” and “cease fire” in fifteen-minute intervals. Kate happened to walk in during a cease fire. The range master looked at her and smiled.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Joy Ellis said.

  “Hi, Joy. I’ve been out of town at a retreat, and I’m out of practice. So glad to be back.”

  “Retreat? Like a spa?” Joy, who stood maybe five feet tall, looked like a modern-day hippie, with her loose clothing of paisley print.

  “Something like that,” Kate said. Nothing like a spa was the truth of the matter.

  “I need a spa day. No, make that a spa week. Where did you go?” Joy asked.

  Kate got caught with her foot in her mouth on this one. What could she say? “You know, I don’t remember the name. My brother kidnapped me and took me. I’ll look it up and let you know.” So lame, but it was all she had at the spur of the moment. Twenty minutes later, she’d have the perfect response. As if that would do her any good.

  Joy must have caught the slight. “No matter, I don’t have time anyway.” Sterner. she said, “No face targets, you know. I know they let you use them at night, but not during regular member hours.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for letting me know.” Like she didn’t already know.

  Joy moved back to her shooting station.

  Kate put on her safety glasses, which she hated, but knew were necessary, and stuffed earplugs in her ears, leaving her firearm on the shelf until the range was finally declared “hot.”

  “Commence firing,” Joy said into the mic, and it came through loud and clear over the speaker system.

  Kate picked up her firearm and placed the magazine, then racked one into the chamber. She wrapped her left hand around the grip, keeping her “booger hook off the bang switch” until she was ready to fire by keeping her index finger alongside the trigger. Once she felt comfortable, she placed her right hand over her left, tucking her thumb on the right side, then stretched out her arms, stared down the site and fired. Rapid fire was forbidden, so she counted, “One Mississippi, two Mississippi,” then fired again. For once, she wanted Payaso to appear; right in front of the target would be best.

  She cursed when her arms felt tired after only fifteen minutes. She usually stayed at the range for an hour, only breaking to reload and change her targets. She’d planned to go out to the rifle range and hit moving targets, but now she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Her aim started off a little shaky, then she tightened up and shot dead center. It didn’t take long before she missed the target altogether, the gun shaking in her hands from its weight.

  Standing quietly, disassembling her gun at the sound of “Cease fire,” she felt the tears rolling down her cheeks and wiped them away using the upper arm of her shirt, then looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Taking several deep breaths, she had plenty of time to contemplate getting back in her car, driving home, and wallowing in self-pity. “No,” she said out loud. “Not gonna happen.”

  Kate went through two boxes of ammunition before she stopped shooting for the day. Relieved and disappointed at the same time when the Sig’s chamber locked open, she placed it back in the case, along with the empty magazine, and closed it before removing her earplugs and safety glasses.

  Feeling tears welling again, she reminded herself to breathe. And thank goodness her eyes cooperated, because when she looked up after walking out the door of the building, she saw Lieutenant Theo Moore coming toward her. “Shit,” she said, not wanting anyone to know she was back yet. She plastered a huge, toothy smile on her face.

  “Corporal Darby, what a pleasant surprise,” Moore said, his pleasant tone belying the look on his face, which said, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Lieutenant.” Kate reached out to shake his hand.

  His grip seemed weaker than she remembered. Maybe he felt as if he’d hurt her with his regular grip. Kate made sure to grip his hand solidly, and hold it for just that extra half-second, let him know she wasn’t weak.

  “I just talked to Zane this morning. He said you were out of town.”

  Kate smiled again, trying to look as it this conversation wasn’t awkward. “He doesn’t know I’m back. I haven’t spoken to him since I got out of the hospital.”

  “Is everything okay with you two?” She’d bet his concern had more to do with the job than anything. He’d have to deal with them at work, and probably dreaded it.

  “It’s all good. I just needed some alone time to think, and get my ducks in a row. I didn’t want anyone to influence me.” She dropped the smile, looking anxious so maybe Moore would cut the conversation short.

  “The chief tells me you’re not coming back,” Moore said, then added, “But Gwilly says otherwise.”

  “Well, I’d be a terrible cop if I let a little gunshot to the abdomen run me off.” She still didn’t know who to trust. “But I have been contemplating. As of now, I’m just not an active duty cop.”

  Moore waved her off. “You’ll be back, even if you have to work the desk for a couple of months.”

  Kate shook her head. “No way. I’ll use up every last hour of vacation and medical leave before I sit at a desk. That will kill me all by itself.”

  Moore winked and patted his belly. “It will kill you a little at a time.”

  Kate took a step, trying to look as if she had some place to be, but Moore didn’t take the hint.

  “The wife and I would love to have you over for dinner soon. We just got back from vacation, so I’ll talk to her and see when is a good time.” He looked past Kate and put his hand on his service weapon.

  Kate looked behind her. Someone had just walked out of the building carrying an AR-15. All was good, no magazine; he followed the rules. When she turned back to Moore, his hand had dropped to his side.

  “I’d love to see your family. Just give me a call,” she lied. “Oh, I have a question maybe you can answer it.”

  “Sure, if I can.” Now Moore looked anxious to get inside.

  “I heard Newton was killed by a Bario Azteca gang banger. But I never heard how you investigated and found out. I was just curious how you found the guy.”

  “Since the case is closed, I guess it’s no big deal to tell you, or anyone else, but it has been kept under wraps. Mostly, I think, because of the danger that gang poses. Ruthless.”

  Kate repeated, “Ruthless.”

  “Anyway, the bullets traced back to a gun used in a crime perpetrated by Ruben Guzman Ortiz. Then during the process of the investigation, Ortiz was seen on video in Newton’s neighborhood. And of all things, something as simple as his fingerprints did him in. They were found on the doorframe of the house where Newton was killed.”

  Kate didn’t believe a word of it, but she wanted the details from the horse’s mouth. It was all she could do to not call bullshit. “Good police work, in other words. Who was the lead investigator?”

  “Captain Francois. He worked closely with the chief.” He looked at her like he thought she still had questions. “Remember, I was away during all that. My mom had just died. So, if you want to know more, stop by the station and talk to the captain. Besides, I’m sure everyone would love to see you.”

  Kate shrugged. “Maybe I will. It’s not really all that important.” She looked around, as if scoping out the scene. “And please, Lieutenant, don’t tell anyone you saw me, especially Zane. I haven’t told him I’m home yet, and I’d really rather he heard from me first.”

  Moore reached out and patted Kate on the shoulder. “Sure thing. Now I’d better get inside. I need to get back on the current murder investigation.”

  Kate had been so worried about being seen, she’d forgotten about the dead cop. “Yeah, my brother told me he had a body on the table last night. I guess I’m not privy to the details since I’m not active duty.”

  One more pat on the shoulder as the lieutenant moved past her. “Nope, you’re not.”

&nbs
p; Kate watched him walk away. He never looked back, but she knew he could see her in the glass of the front doors of the building. She crossed her arms and watched him as he walked into the building, then stood for just a few more seconds so he could turn around and look back at her. He didn’t.

  Chapter 15

  Nerves on edge from lack of sleep, the brass breathing down his neck, and the fact the murder victim was a cop, Zane knew he should have taken a few deep breaths before talking to the kid behind the counter at the phone store. But he needed answers and didn’t have time for patience.

  The text he’d just gotten from Lieutenant Moore didn’t help calm his nerves either. I just saw your ex-wife at the firing range. I thought she was out of town?

  “Well, I guess you know better than I do.” Zane wanted to send a text back, but just shoved his phone deep into his pocket.

  Why hadn’t she called him? It had been two months since he’d spoken to Kate. Two long months of wondering if she was okay. He never should have asked Bryce.

  “She’s out of town. She needed to get her head on straight and said she’ll be back when she gets back,” Bryce had said.

  He knew where Kate was, but those two were more loyal to each other than anyone else in their lives, including their parents. Zane liked Bryce well enough, but he hated that Bryce always took Kate’s side and kept her secrets. He’d been her husband, but she’d confided in her foster brother more than him. His heart ached at the thought of her being back home and she hadn’t even called him to let him know. He’d had to find out from his boss, how pathetic was that?

  How many times had he called her before finally giving up? For two months, his calls went straight to voicemail. When he asked Bryce, the only answer he got was, “She’s fine. I think she turned her phone off. She’ll call you if she wants to talk, I’m sure.” She never did call.

  Why did he keep holding out hope? She had him by the balls and by the heartstrings. He hated to admit how much he loved that woman. As much as he tried, he couldn’t move on just yet. Somehow, he hoped this trauma would bring them closer together and yet, it had driven a larger wedge between them.