“You’d think I would’ve remembered him,” Debbie continued, still gazing out the window. “You don’t run into a man who looks like that very often.”
“He wasn’t a man when he left. He was a sixteen-year-old boy.” And he hadn’t always looked as good as he did to day. He’d been skinny in high school, with hands and feet too large for his body and a sullen expression that was as effective as a Do-Not-Approach sign. The fact that he was usually in need of a haircut and a change of clothes gave him a wild air that was just a little frightening. Coming upon him had been like encountering a lone wolf in the desert. Mangy, battle-worn, distrusting. Those were the three words Sophia would’ve used to describe him.
But this Roderick was completely different. For one thing, he’d finally grown into his hands and feet. At least six feet three inches tall, he had to weigh two hundred and twenty pounds. No longer resembling a mangy wolf or mangy anything, he had a soldier’s powerful body. His hair, as black as ever, was cut short enough to suggest he’d been in the military. With beautiful coppery skin and teeth that were white and straight, he’d improved physically in every area except one—the wariness that used to lurk in his eyes had been replaced with contempt.
Debbie shifted positions. “He’s not leaving.”
“I don’t care, as long as he doesn’t cross my tape.”
“He hasn’t yet. But…” Debbie glanced back at her. “What would you do if he did?”
“I’d arrest him for interfering with my investigation!”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She opened the drapes a little wider. “Then you might want to check this out.”
Sophia joined her on the couch, where they both watched Roderick duck under the tape, walk around and then suddenly kneel on the ground several feet from where the bodies had fallen.
“No freaking way!” she cried, and marched to the door.
Roderick knew Sophia was coming but he didn’t look up. He’d uncovered something with his foot that might be important. Carefully slipping it into one of the side pockets of his khaki shorts, he turned just as she came close enough to speak.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she yelled.
“Nothing.” After stooping to clear the tape, he strode past her on his way to the Hummer.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” She came charging after him. “You’re under arrest!”
He ignored her.
“If you don’t stop, I’ll draw my weapon.”
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” he said over his shoulder. “That might be a bit difficult to explain when the governor calls.”
Thanks to a much shorter stride, she was forced to take two steps to his one. “No, it won’t. I’m well within my rights. You’re a civilian who’s interfering with a police investigation. You took something. I saw it. What is it?”
His flip-flops made flapping noises as he walked. “Evidence you should’ve claimed yourself. You can explain that when the governor calls, too.”
She spoke louder. “Whatever it is, you’d better turn it over to me.”
“I’ll tell you what I learn from it. Maybe that’ll start us off in the right direction.”
“Don’t bet on it. We won’t be heading in any direction because you’ll be in jail.”
To let her know he wasn’t worried, he didn’t even bother to look back at her. “And who’s going to put me there?”
“I am!”
“Good luck with that.”
It was this statement that seemed to infuriate her more than any other. “This is your last warning,” she said. “If you don’t hand over what you took, you’re going to need a very talented lawyer.”
Reaching the Hummer, he opened the door. “Do yourself a favor and leave me alone, okay?”
She’d drawn her gun as promised and was aiming it at him. “Freeze, or I’ll shoot.”
Whirling, he wrenched the weapon from her grasp. The way her eyes flared in alarm told him he’d surprised her, but he didn’t return her firearm. He shoved it in the waistband of his shorts.
“Next time you threaten a man, make sure he can’t disarm you,” he said. Then he got in his vehicle and drove away.
Sophia had never been angrier or more embarrassed in her life. She hadn’t been afraid of Roderick Guerrero, so she hadn’t taken the proper precautions, and he’d made a fool of her.
Debbie, standing halfway to the trailer, was trying not to laugh. “Did he just take your gun?”
“Yes!” she snapped, and jumped into her cruiser. Flipping on the alarm and the siren, she peeled out of the dirt drive and went barreling down the road.
The Hummer was about a mile ahead of her, so she gave the cruiser more gas. She wanted to close the gap and apprehend him before they got to the edge of town. But she didn’t catch up to him until he’d stopped at the first of Bordertown’s three traffic lights.
Even then, he didn’t pull over. As soon as the light changed, he drove on as if she wasn’t following him with her siren wailing and her flashers on. He actually led her through town twice by driving in a big circle.
He was toying with her, which only infuriated her more.
Finally she got out her blare horn and began shouting at him. “Pull over!” She repeated those words several times, but it didn’t make any difference. He wouldn’t cooperate.
At last he seemed to grow bored with the game and drove to the Mother Lode Motel, where he parked and got out, acting as though he hadn’t spent the past thirty minutes evading capture. “You are so screwed!” she cried as she scrambled out of her car.
He turned and sent her a smile, but she could tell there was no enjoyment in it. “Then I hope you screw better than you do everything else.”
Using her open door as a shield, she grabbed her shotgun from the car. “Give me my Glock!”
He removed his sunglasses and started toward her. “Don’t you dare,” she said, and this time he must’ve realized she was ready to blow a hole through him because he stopped.
“Look, I’m setting your gun on the hood of my car. I suggest you put it in your holster and get back to the business of taking care of real criminals.”
Returning the gun wasn’t enough of a concession. “Give me what you took from the crime scene, too.”