Damsel in Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 1) (4 page)

“We’ll see how much we can get done today. Have fun.”

Fran waved and headed back to the storage shed while Brinley took a few steps toward her vehicle. Greg, however, darted in front of her, blocking the path, a sulky look on his face as if she’d denied him dessert.

“If not now, then how about tonight? I think you owe me that since I came by here with a surprise.”

He held up the paper cup and she almost choked on her retort. He was the one that had cancelled at the last minute the night before. She didn’t owe him a damn thing. It was looking like she’d had a lucky escape. Greg wasn’t the guy for her.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be home. How about I call you?”

He shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care but a muscle ticked in his jaw. Greg was at the very least frustrated and possibly angry. “Sure, I’ll be around. If I don’t hear from you I’ll call you tomorrow.”

That wasn’t welcome news.

“Thank you for understanding. I do really need to go.” Brinley tried to keep her tone even and friendly even if she wasn’t feeling that way.

Greg didn’t move so she had to go around him, muttering not so nice words under her breath. She climbed into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine before putting the car into reverse. Greg still stood there, a paper cup in each hand, watching her leave. As she accelerated down the street he tossed the cups into her outside garbage can with more force than he needed to.

He was pissed off but so was she. She wasn’t the type of woman to give in to a man’s demands or his emotional blackmail.

At least not anymore.

‡

T
here was a
giant bloodstain on the hotel carpet where Roger Gaines had lain face down after being shot but Jason only gave it a cursory glance. Instead he scanned the room from his vantage point near the door, trying to get an overall feel for the chain of events that had led to Gaines’s death. He’d probably never know what had exactly happened but he hoped to come as close as possible.

The forensic team had already combed the hotel room and surrounding area and collected any evidence left behind. The hotel management was pushing for the police to release the crime scene and this would be Jason’s one opportunity to see the room before it was cleaned up.

“Defensive wounds?” Jason asked. The room looked neat and tidy. No sign of any struggle.

“The autopsy is today but from the preliminary report? None.”

Jason turned to his left where a table and two chairs sat in front of the large window that overlooked the parking lot. Stepping back so he could get a better view, he knelt down to study the worn carpet.

“These chairs have been moved. You can see the indentations on the carpet where they normally rest. He may have had a visitor. They could have sat here. Did forensics collect any food or glasses?”

“One glass of water in a plastic cup,” West replied crisply. “And anyone could have moved those chairs. Even the maid, just to vacuum.”

Jason stood and inspected the table, worn and scarred from years of use. Any mark here wasn’t going to help the investigation.

“Hairs and fibers? Fingerprints?”

“Forensics took out hair samples from at least four different people plus dozens of fingerprints all over the room.” West grimaced and shuddered. “This place was a germaphobe’s nightmare. It makes even me not want to stay in a hotel ever again. Disgusting.”

Hotel rooms were some of the worst crime scenes and for good reason. By their very nature, people were in and out of them randomly. If the average American knew what had been deposited on the surfaces and bedspreads they’d be appalled.

“And he fell here.” Jason stood over the bloodstain that had turned brown. “This is halfway between the table and the closet. Was anything found in there?”

“A couple of shirts hung up and an extra pair of shoes.”

Jason walked back and forth between the spot of the body and the door, trying to picture what had happened. Images played like a movie through his brain before being rejected one by one until he found the one that spoke to him.

He could see it now. It was fuzzy but he had the bare bones of the events.

“The killer knocked on the door and the victim answered it. He knew the killer or was expecting him.” Jason pointed to the table. “They sat there and had something to drink.”

“But we only found one cup,” West interjected. “And there was nothing in the garbage like a can of soda or anything.”

“Look at how the cups are lined up on the dresser. There’s three plastic cups stacked together and one on its own. That says to me that two glasses are missing. Check in the other rooms to see how many plastic cups are normally stocked but I’m betting it’s six.”

“Jesus, you’re spooky. Since when do you concentrate on little details like that?”

Since they saved my life.

“Age and wisdom, little brother. I’ve got a few more years doing this under my belt, that’s all.”

“Well, color me impressed. What else do you know?”

“I don’t know for sure. I’m only giving my opinion.” The events kept playing through his mind, clearer now than they had been even a few minutes ago. “There was no garbage? I think that’s pretty strange when you look at the lax housekeeping here. I think the killer sat and had a drink with Gaines. They talked. Gaines got up and started walking to the closet. That’s when the killer shot him. Then he cleaned up, probably taking the garbage with him and throwing it away in a dumpster nearby. I’d have your guys check within a mile area. The only thing I’m uncertain about is how he had time to clean the room up. A gunshot makes noise.”

“That I can answer.” West pointed to an area near the table and chairs. “Forensics recovered pieces of plastic over here. My guess is the killer used a poor man’s silencer to muffle the sound.”

“A plastic soda bottle? Our killer may not be an amateur. He may have killed before.”

West shrugged carelessly. “Or he watches
CSI
or true crime shows. Anyone with a cable subscription can watch that stuff twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

Why anyone would want to Jason couldn’t fathom, but then crime wasn’t entertainment for him. It was his job.

“Did you find a laptop or a tablet? A phone? Gaines was in his twenties and I would imagine he had at least one of those items.”

“I think you’re right but we didn’t find any. My guess is the killer took off with them. That’s why we initially thought this might be a robbery. The manager said Gaines was carrying a laptop case over his shoulder when he checked in.”

“That underlines my theory that Gaines knew his killer. Maybe the killer wanted whatever Gaines had on his laptop?”

“An unemployed kid who lives over his brother’s garage? What would he have?” West grinned and shook his head. “What is he—some kind of secret spy? Maybe you should check some of your government contacts.”

“I will, but I doubt it. A secret spy wouldn’t be naive enough to keep sensitive information on their laptop.”

West snapped his fingers, his brows shooting upward. “What about blackmail? This kid doesn’t have a dime. He finds something out about someone and tells them he’ll reveal it unless they pay.”

That sounded like a decent hypothesis. One Jason could work with.

“We need to talk to his brother and some of his friends. Maybe he had a backup system at home and we can pull documents from there.”

“I’ve got a call into his brother. Hopefully he can point us to his friends. Have you seen everything here that you needed? I’m going to release the crime scene to Stan.”

The room didn’t have any more secrets to reveal. And of course there was always the possibility that he was way off base with his proposed chain of events. The forensics and the autopsy would tell them more.

“I’ve got what I need.”

West checked his watch and groaned. “Good. I’m supposed to meet with the mayor about the budget for the next fiscal year. He’s complaining that the lab costs for DNA and fingerprints are blowing us out of the water.”

“What’s the alternative?” Jason groused. “Letting guilty people go or arresting the innocent? We’re lucky to have the science.”

“He watches too much television. Thinks I should be able to interrogate a suspect and get him to confess.”

“And the case wraps up in less than an hour. Too bad that’s not the reality.”

Confessions were rare unless the suspect was trying to trade information for a lighter sentence. He and West exited the hotel room, locking the door behind them.

“Looks like you have company.” West grinned and gestured toward a car parked opposite his truck nearer the road. Brinley was climbing out of the vehicle with a purse slung over her shoulder. “I’ll leave you to deal with Ms. Snow. I got the feeling last night that I’m not her favorite person.”

Jason had that same feeling although it wasn’t West’s fault. He was just doing his job.

“Do you think she’s in any danger?” Jason asked abruptly. The question had been rolling around in his brain last night. He’d gone back and forth between yes and no.

“Right now we don’t know enough to answer that question.” West stroked his chin in thought. “I want to say no but I can’t be sure. Any ideas, big brother?”

“No clear signals. That’s the problem.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on her.” West softly whistled as Brinley came closer, dressed in red capris and a white blouse. With her long brown hair around her shoulders she looked very pretty this morning. Leave it to Jason’s womanizing brother to notice. “No, it would be a pleasure. Just let me know if you don’t want the job.”

“Go to your meeting,” Jason growled. “I’ll take care of Brinley.”

West laughed and tossed his car keys in the air, catching them on the way down with a flourish. “I’m sure you will. I’ll call you later with the autopsy results or any other new information.” West tipped his hat to Brinley before swinging into his vehicle and pulling away.

Jason crossed his arms over his chest and gave his neighbor a scowl even though he was kind of glad to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to help.”

“Help?” he echoed. “Just how do you think you can help me?”

Her mouth tightened and she shuffled her feet on the concrete. “You keep saying that I’m the only lead in the case. How can I jog my memory if I’m sitting on the couch?”

“I’ll talk to West about getting pictures of the crime scene for you to look at, although you’ll probably wish you hadn’t. They can be quite grisly. Now go home.”

She didn’t budge an inch and he hadn’t thought she would. He was beginning to see that Brinley Snow was more stubborn than a mule.

“It won’t be the same. You’re assuming that I’ll see the one thing that will help me understand in a picture. Personally, I doubt it.”

“It’s not standard procedure to bring a civilian along on an investigation.” Jason rubbed at his temple trying to chase away the headache that was beginning to bloom.

“I would hardly call myself a civilian. You were the one that dragged me down to the police station last night. This poor man had my address, Jason. He must have been coming to see me about…something. I have to know and so do you. You said it’s the key to finding his killer.”

“I said
maybe
it’s the key,” Jason corrected. “Maybe being the operative word here. Last night you were trying to convince me that the address was wrong and that it could be anyone on the street. Should I take everyone down to the motel?”

“You and I both know I was grasping at straws last night. I don’t know why Roger Gaines had my address but I’m willing to admit it wasn’t a mistake. Are we going to argue about this all morning or are you going to admit that having me along might help?”

Their gazes met and held.

“Why do you even want to help? Believe me when I tell you there is nothing exciting about investigating a crime. It’s not like on television.”

“I’m not looking for exciting. I’m looking for information. I need to know why Roger Gaines had my address in his hand. I need to know where I fit in this murder. Can you blame me? Tell me you wouldn’t do the same.”

He couldn’t say it because she was right. But that didn’t mean he was ready to fold like a cheap tent.

“I understand your curiosity. You’re right, I’d feel the same. But there’s a difference between us. You’re a teacher – and probably a fine one – but I’m a trained investigator. You’d be wasting your time following me around.”

“It’s summer vacation. My lesson plans for the upcoming year are done. I’ve got a few hours I can throw away.”

Brinley clearly thought if she wasn’t with him she was going to miss something. Most people didn’t realize that investigations were mostly a combination of leg and paperwork. Neither of which was all that fun. But having her tag along would give him the opportunity to keep an eye on her.

“If I say you can go with me you’re going to have to do exactly as I tell you to. I mean it, Brinley. If I say you can’t touch something or you can’t go somewhere I don’t want any arguing.”

“Your show, your rules. I realize this is out of the ordinary and I appreciate you taking me with you. I won’t do anything to jeopardize this investigation. I promise.”

“Then get in the truck and let’s get some breakfast. I’m starved.”

“What about my car?”

“You can come back for it.” Jason cupped her elbow and led her to the passenger side. “If you’re going to hang around with me it’s easier if we’re riding together.”

He needed more coffee and a stack of pancakes. He always thought better with a full stomach. And this case needed all the brain power he could muster. They had very little to go on, plus the open question as to whether Brinley was in any danger.

Nothing would happen to her on his watch.

‡

B
rinley scooped the
last bite of cheesy hash browns from the plate and into her mouth, humming with appreciation. She hadn’t eaten this morning, and by the time she and Jason had sat down and opened their menus her stomach had been growling with a ferocious hunger. Placing the fork next to the plate, she dabbed at her lips with a paper napkin.