Cold Case Page 7
Trey could easily imagine Eryn grabbing the rope, dangling from a helicopter, and sliding down. She’d have that fierce determined look on her face, and she’d give it her all to make sure she landed on target. If his leg didn’t improve, he wouldn’t be doing that either, and if he joined Blackwell, he’d be watching the other guys from the sidelines, so he could totally understand her frustration.
He met her gaze. “I’m sorry about your hand. I’m just starting to understand the struggle and limitations of having a chronic injury.”
She looked down at his leg. “Your leg isn’t getting any better, then?”
He wanted to sigh but kept it to himself. “I keep pretending it is, but nah. After several surgeries and more physical therapy than I can count, the doc still won’t clear me to return to patrol. So I’m riding a desk, which is too frustrating and confining for me. I need to be involved and active. Like today. I’m sorry this guy is threatening you, but man, for the first time in a long time, I enjoyed my day.”
Her eyes softened in understanding, and she reached out to take his hand. The touch of her fingers raced along his nerves, and he sucked in a quick breath.
“And I’ve been such a bear to you,” she said. “I really do appreciate everything you’re doing, and I hate that you’re missing out on your classes because of me.”
“Trust me. I’d take protective detail over sitting in a classroom any day. Especially when it’s you I’m protecting.” He rested his other hand over hers, boldly met her gaze, and held it, transmitting his interest.
Her eyes widened, and she jerked back.
“And of course, your little Bekah,” he added to play down the intensity of his feelings. “She’s a lot of fun. Especially when she says something you don’t want her to say.”
Eryn pulled her hand back, feigning offense at his last comment, but the underlying unease she had with him was still obvious and that hurt. Hurt a lot. More than he should let it when he had no business getting involved with her.
“I should get back to work.” She got up.
Right. Back to business. Exactly what they both needed, but he didn’t want her to run from him. “Have you found anything in the stoplight data?”
“Not yet, and honestly, it’s a long shot, so I’m going to move on to the cell phone pictures which I think are a more viable lead. You want to help me review them?”
“Sure,” he replied, surprised she asked.
“Let me grab my laptop, and we can look at the files here where we can both sit.”
“I don’t mind standing.” He jumped up, drawing her careful scrutiny, but he didn’t let that deter him. He moved over to the desk and stood behind the chair. It was far better for him to be looking over her shoulder than having her sit close enough to share the computer screen with him. Sure, he would have liked her at his side, but it would be pure torture, and he doubted he would be able to focus on the work.
She slid into the chair, and he caught a whiff of her fresh citrusy scent that made him think of the laundry his mom hung on clotheslines in the backyard. Eryn was like a breath of fresh air in his life so it was appropriate, but still, he didn’t need to be thinking about it.
She opened a folder on the screen, enlarged the pictures, and then started scrolling through them.
“I’m not even sure what we’re looking for,” he said.
“Watch the ones with dark screens for reflections. The others, a suspicious text. Email. Or even an unusual app.”
He wouldn’t know an unusual app if it jumped off the screen and bit him, but he devoted all of his attention to the computer and hoped he could be of help.
Two hours later, his thigh burning and eyes strained, he wished he’d been sitting down. He hadn’t contributed anything, and after scrutinizing every last photo, Eryn admitted that there didn’t appear to be anything unusual. They’d struck out on finding that one lead they needed to propel their investigation forward before this guy could make good on his threat.
6
Eryn woke to chants outside her window. She shot out of bed to look outside. A small group of protestors with placards stood near the resort’s drop-off area. They were marching in a circle and waving large signs that were in the shape of a laptop computer broadcasting STOP MASS SURVEILLANCE!
A tall, muscular man wearing biker clothes with stringy long hair the color of an eggplant stomped out from under the awing and raised his arms to incite the crowd. His shoulder-length hair in the deep purple color was a dead giveaway to his and the group’s identity—ERP. He was none other than group leader, Chuck Coker. And a real jerk with a capital J.
Eryn never expected them to come all the way from Portland for this. Surely, they had better things to do with their time then to protest her little classes. Maybe it had to do with a recent altercation the police had with Coker. He probably hoped protesting her class would stick it to the police at the same time.
A male guest exited a sedan in the parking lot and headed for the door. Coker stepped out and tried to stop the guest from entering. He moved past Coker who exaggerated falling back to make it look like the guy accosted him, when from Eryn’s point of view, the guest didn’t even touch Coker.
Disgusted, Eryn let the drapes fall and checked to make sure Bekah was still asleep on her rollaway bed. She was curled on her side, her thumb resting near her mouth, her favorite blanket clutched in her hand. An overwhelming wave of protectiveness washed over Eryn. She didn’t want her baby to learn about people like Coker. Eryn was all for the right to protest, but Coker often used underhanded methods to get his point across.
Shaking her head, Eryn went to the shower in her adjoining bathroom. She put all her frustration in frothing up a big lather of shampoo and scrubbing her scalp harder than was necessary. It helped eliminate some of her frustration so by the time she was dry and dressed, she’d let most of it go, and left it there even when she heard ERP continue to chant outside the window.
She opened the suite door to go make coffee, but the moment she pulled it open, the nutty scent of a fresh brewed pot greeted her. Trey stood in the kitchen filling a mug. He turned and smiled at her, and she forgot about everything else and let the warmth of his greeting wrap around her like a warm hug.
He wore another body-hugging shirt, this one navy blue, and paired it with khaki tactical pants. His gun was holstered at his side, and he hadn’t covered it with a shirt, but one lay on the back of the sofa.
He held up his mug. “Want one?”
“Yes, please.”
She crossed over to the kitchenette.
“ERT wake you, too?”
She nodded. “Coker seems to be in rare form.”
He handed her the cup. “Coker?”
“Chuck Coker. Their fearless leader.”
“I’m not familiar with their group at all.”
“I wish I wasn’t, but they make the news in the technology world all the time. He does some pretty devious things to get their message across.” Eryn took a sip of the coffee and groaned over the goodness. “You can make me coffee anytime.”
His eyes widened, and she knew he was putting more into her comment than she intended. She was really flattered by his interest, but despite enjoying spending time with him, she couldn’t consider anything personal with him. Not even if she wanted to press down a damp lock of hair that was curling in the wrong direction.
He leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles. “Do you really think Coker could be behind the ransomware?”
She set her mug on the counter and gave it some thought. “He’s a software engineer. Means he has the skills for hacking, and this hack was so rudimentary he surely could’ve done it.”
“So if he did it, how do we figure that out?”
“I need to talk to him to get a feel for if he knows about the hack. Second, I’ll check with my law enforcement contacts to see if he’s suspected of any hacks. If he is, I’ll get that code and compare it to the current code I’m reviewing to
look for a signature.”
Trey took a long sip of his coffee. “Hacker’s sign their work?”
One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Not a signature like you think of it. More of a pattern of work that is consistent.”
“I’ll pretend to understand.” He grinned.
It was too early in the morning to be faced with such a potent smile. She flashed him a quick one then headed for the sofa and out of the realm of his influence. A big mistake. He came across the room, slipped into his shirt, and sat next to her. She tried not to scoot away, but her instinct to protect herself was stronger than her desire not to offend him. He watched her carefully, but if he was disappointed or felt slighted, it didn’t show in his expression.
Put him out of your mind. Do your work. You can always work. This is no different.
Email. She would start with her email. She took a long drink of the coffee then grabbed her phone. No way would she use the resort’s unsecured network. She handled business needing immediate attention, and as she signed off, Bekah came padding out of the bedroom. She looked adorable in her jammies covered in pink dinosaurs that she’d named. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and climbed on Eryn’s lap.
She kissed her daughter’s soft hair. “Morning, pumpkin.”
“People are yelling outside.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are they mad?”
“It sounds like it,” Eryn said but decided to quickly change the subject. “What do you want to do today?”
Bekah turned, her eyes wide now. “Go to the playground with Trey. He was fun at the pool. I like him.”
Eryn marveled at the innocence of a child’s comment. Trey was sitting right next to them, and Bekah talked about him like he wasn’t in the room, much less next to her. And she revealed her feelings for him—just like that—when Eryn fought to hide hers.
She hated to step all over her daughter’s desires, but it had to be done. “Trey and I have to work really hard today, and I don’t know if we’ll have time. But if we can’t go this afternoon, we can do it tomorrow.”
She frowned. “Wanna go today.”
“I know, pumpkin, but sometimes we have to be patient for the things we want.”
“Amen to that,” Trey said under his breath and caught Eryn’s attention. His pointed expression left no doubt in her mind as to his meaning.
“Let’s order breakfast from room service,” Eryn moved on. “I know how much you like those little bottles of syrup that come with the French toast.”
“Yippee!” Bekah clapped her hands.
Eryn wished she could change her mood so quickly. She rose and settled Bekah on the sofa. Bekah quickly climbed up on Trey’s lap and laid her head against his chest. His eyes melted with contentment, and Eryn couldn’t look at him. Not when he was the very image of someone she would love to have in her life, and someone that her daughter deserved, too.
Was she doing wrong by Bekah by refusing to get involved with a man again? Something she hadn’t really given much thought to. She couldn’t think about that now, or she would never get her day started. She handed a room service menu to Trey.
“Decide what you want. After I check with Mom, I’ll place the order.” She quickly found out what her mother wanted and then ordered meals for all of them.
“Yippee, French toast,” Bekah announced, which wasn’t a surprise. “It’s so yummy. My tummy loves it. I love it, too. So does Trey. He said so.”
Eryn didn’t know where her daughter got to be such a chatterbox, but now that Eryn thought about it, her mother did like to chat a lot. Bekah probably picked it up from her. “Then let’s get you cleaned up and dressed.”
“Don’t wanna.” Bekah settled back, a pout on her face.
Eryn nearly had to pry her from Trey’s lap, but she got her wiggle worm into the bathroom, washed up, brushed, and dressed. The protestors continued to shout outside, raising a few questions from Bekah, but Eryn managed to redirect her to other things including last night at the pool.
“It was the bestest,” Bekah said. “I wanna swim today, too. And have a tea party. A big one. With cakes and cookies. And my dolls. And I’ll invite Trey. He’ll be the prince. My dolls will be the princesses who like him, too.”
Eryn hadn’t realized that the impression Trey had made on her daughter went this deep. It’s not like there was a shortage of males in her life, with the guys on the team around all the time. But she never gushed about any of them like she did with Trey. Maybe it was because he devoted his full attention to her. Or maybe he stood out in her mind due to his red hair. Or his kindness. Or his gentleness.
“Stop. Just stop already.”
Bekah looked up from tugging up her jeans. “Stop what, Mommy?”
“Nothing, sweetie. I was talking to myself,” Eryn said and snapped Bekah’s pants.
A knock sounded on the suite door.
“That will be our breakfast.”
Bekah bolted from the bedroom, but Eryn took a moment to tidy up the room and make the bed. She wouldn’t request maid service for the day except to get extra towels, and she liked things neat.
By the time she got to the table, everyone was seated. Trey was next to Bekah, and he was cutting her French toast. She looked up at him in awe as if he were doing something she’d never seen before.
Eryn resisted groaning. She couldn’t encourage this attachment that Bekah was forming to Trey. Maybe she should talk with him and explain how it wasn’t good for Bekah when he wouldn’t be in their life beyond this trip.
She took the seat next to her mother and outlined the day so her mom knew what to expect. “We’ll start with a team meeting here. I know Bekah would love to watch Dora the Explorer.”
“Yes, please!” Bekah looked at Trey. “Can you watch with me?”
He tweaked her nose. “Sorry. I have to work with your mom.”
Bekah looked crestfallen, but she shoved a bite of French toast in her mouth and didn’t ask again.
“Depending on the outcome of that meeting, I’ll be away from the room doing interviews,” Eryn continued. “I’ll try to get back for lunch, but if not, can you order room service again?”
“Sure,” her mother replied. “We’ll spend our morning on letters, numbers, and cutting skills.”
“You’re the best, Mom.”
Her mother smiled and patted Eryn’s hand. “I want the very best for both my girls.”
A knock sounded on the door, startling Eryn. She wasn’t usually a jumpy person, but the stress was getting to her. “That’ll be the team.”
“I’ll answer it.” Trey strode across the room, his rigid law enforcement persona firmly in place. He looked out the peephole then opened the door and stepped back.
Eryn’s teammates spilled into the room like water bursting through a dam. They never did anything halfway but put their all into their work—and even their play. They joked around while they greeted her mother and Bekah, then took their seats.
“C’mon, Bekah.” Her mother stood and pulled out Bekah’s chair. “Let’s get the sticky washed off you.”
Bekah hopped down and ran across the room to grab onto Trey’s leg. Eryn cringed, not only from the fact that Trey would now likely have syrup on his pants, but because of Bekah’s reaction to him.
“Don’t forget the playground,” she said.
“Of course not.” He ruffled her hair. “It’ll be the highlight of my day.”
She pushed off his leg and ran toward her Gammy’s room.
“Sorry if you got all sticky,” Eryn said to Trey as they joined the others.
“That happened a long time ago at the table.” He pulled out his sleeve.
She saw the shiny mark from the syrup, but it was the flexing of his muscles that really held her interest.
“Let’s get going,” Gage announced.
Eryn grabbed her files from the desk, then took a seat as far from Trey as possible and felt like everyone figured out what she was doing and was watching her to see what she did next. She knew
that was only in her head, but she felt so self-conscious she hardly knew where to start.
“I suppose you know that’s ERT outside protesting your class,” Alex said.
“Yeah. I plan to have a talk with Coker.”
Gage met her gaze. “As volatile as he is, do you think that’s a good idea?”
“If it was only the protest, no. But he has the skills to have pulled off the hack, so I absolutely need to question him.”
Gage worked his jaw for a moment. “Be careful you don’t give him more ammunition to use.”
She was known for flying off the handle when she was passionate about something, and Gage’s advice was solid. She nodded, then turned to the group. “Anyone have anything to report from the interviews last night?”
“I can report that all the guys I talked to said you’re a good teacher,” Alex said. “But then, they may have been too captivated by that pretty face and might not have been listening.”
Eryn gave him the stink eye. “Let me clarify my question. Did anyone learn anything helpful to our case?”
Riley shifted in his chair. “I talked to a Detective Ivan Petrov whose partner is taking your next class. Her name is Gail Rudd. I got this really bad vibe from Petrov, but he could simply be a jerk. Still, I know you’ll want to talk to him.”
“Thanks.” Eryn circled Rudd’s name on her upcoming class roster and Petrov’s name on the prior session. “Anyone else.”
“No one for me,” Gage said. “But I did get everyone’s cell phone make and model like you asked.”
“Unfortunately, I struck out on finding anything in the phone pictures, but you can all email the phone info to me in case it’s needed later.” She paused and looked around the group. “I’ll run preliminary background checks on the names you’ve mentioned.”
“Do you want help with that?” Trey asked.
“Due to the technology involved, I feel like I’m the best one to handle it.” She closed her folder. “But before I do anything about these men, I plan to rattle Coker’s cage to see if anything falls out.”