Chapter Seven
Nate rolled into the airport garage forty-five minutes later.
Considering why he was there, he found the closest parking spot next to the elevators that he could, with more foot traffic, making his car less desirable to steal.
Parking in the back of the lot might help with door dings, but those don’t matter much if the car is stolen.
After a brief stop at the information desk, he found his way to the airport police office.
He found Luna perched on the edge of a chair watching what looked like surveillance footage on a computer.
“Hey,” he said, announcing himself.
Luna glanced up, gave a weary smile. “Hi.”
One look at her face and he knew she hadn’t mistaken where she’d parked. “They didn’t find your car, did they?”
She shook her head and released a defeated sigh. “We’re going over the surveillance videos from yesterday.”
“Have you found anything?”
“The camera at the entrance caught me coming in, and again when I was looking for a spot.”
Nate moved to her side and took off his jacket. “What about where you parked?”
“There’s not a great angle.”
“What do you mean?”
The officer at the keyboard pointed to the monitor. “We think that’s her here. The cameras rotate and didn’t catch Ms. Canning pulling into the spot. But this spot was empty when she entered and was filled at the next camera mark ten minutes later.”
Nate removed a card from his pocket and handed it to the officer. “Nate Warren. I’m a PI. Formerly a federal investigator in DC.”
The officer lifted an eyebrow. “A Fed?”
“Yeah.”
The officer nodded, reached out a hand. “Officer Kempski.”
“Pleasure,” Nate said, shaking the man’s hand.
He pulled a chair next to Luna and offered her a weak smile. “Are you holding up?”
“The initial shock has almost worn off.”
He placed a hand on her back in what he hoped was a gesture of support. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. Thanks for coming,” Luna said.
“Not a problem.”
They both turned back to the footage that Officer Kempski was speeding through.
“How often are cars being stolen from here?” Nate asked.
“No more or less than usual. Most of the thefts are in the long-term lots.”
Luna huffed. “I was going to park there but was running late. One night in the main lot wasn’t going to break the bank. That backfired.”
Her attempt at a joke was a good sign.
Kempski pointed to the monitor. “There’s a lot of people coming and going.
In order to determine when your car went missing, we’re going to have to watch the exit footage, then return to this and determine if we can see who did it.
And that’s going to take a while. You don’t have to sit here for this. ”
Hollywood made police work look exciting, but what Kempski was talking about was the ass in chair, fingers on keyboard police work that Nate knew was boring as all hell.
Kempski leaned back in his chair and swiveled to face the two of them.
Luna’s shoulders fell. “What now?”
“I’ll call the local police, get your car registered as stolen. They’ll put it in a national database.”
“Why do I get the feeling that ‘putting it in a database’ is a moot exercise?” Luna asked.
Kempski exchanged glances with Nate. Their unspoken conversation was loud in Nate’s ears. Fifty percent of cars were never recovered.
Kempski shrugged. “Sometimes we get lucky.”
Luna shook her head. “My car is eleven years old. And it’s a cheap Hyundai. A luxury car I get, but a Hyundai?”
“Parts,” Kempski blurted out. “The make, model, and year of your car is actually sought after for chop shops.”
“Really?” Luna asked.
“Yeah. The year your car was manufactured Hyundai wasn’t putting in immobilizers.”
“What’s that?” Luna asked.
“They make your car harder to steal because the engine won’t turn on without key fob communication. It’s pretty standard in all new cars. Then there’s antitheft systems that track where your car is at all times.”
“Mine didn’t have that.”
Nate moaned on the inside. Her car was gone. Probably already stripped and in unrecognizable pieces.
“Like I said, we might get lucky. But that isn’t going to happen if I don’t call Seattle PD and let them know what’s going on.
” Kempski handed Luna a tablet. “Fill out everything, especially your insurance information so we can send the report to your insurance company. I can assure you we’ll do everything we can to find the person, or people behind this.
I’m here tomorrow. I’ll call you and let you know where we’re at, even if there’s no progress. Sooner if there is.”
“I have friends that can pull some strings if it can help,” Nate told Kempski. “It goes without saying . . . if there’s something I can do.”
He nodded.
“I’ll call Ash,” Luna said as she stared absently at the tablet.
“Who’s Ash?” Nate asked.
“My brother. He’s a cop in Portland.”
“It sounds like you have a good support system,” Kempski said as he pushed away from his desk and stood.
“You can finish that in here while I make the call. If you’re done before I am, there’s no reason for you to wait around for me.
Take it to the front desk, they’ll print out a copy for you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Nate stood, shook the other man’s hand. “Thank you.”
Luna looked up but didn’t stand. “Yeah, thanks for your help.”
Kempski nodded once and left the room.
Luna began tapping prompts on the tablet. “This sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“I was having a great day. The trial was perfect. The cross examination was laughable. My sister called and told me that the insurance company is going to pay for a new roof.”
“That’s great news.”
“Exactly . . . a great day. Blah!” She went back to the work in front of her. “I need a car.”
Nate opened his mouth to say something.
Luna kept talking. “And I won’t make our meeting tomorrow. I have to rent a car . . . and deal with my insurance company. The same company that is paying for my roof.” She paused, looked up. “What if . . . shit. What if they think I’m responsible for this?”
“That’s ridiculous,” Nate said.
“Two claims in one week? That would look suspicious to me.”
“You were in Denver when your car was jacked.”
“You’re right. You’re right! I’m just . . . damn this sucks.”
She was jumping all over the place. A trauma response if Nate had ever seen one. “Have you eaten?”
“What?”
“Food . . . when was the last time you ate?”
She looked up, then looked back down. “I’m not hungry.”
“Breakfast?”
When she didn’t reply, Nate had his answer.
She was in fight-or-flight mode. And the best way to deal with that was feed and breed.
Nate shook the word breed from his thoughts.
She needed food. That would bring her back down to earth.
He stayed silent while Luna finished the report.
Ten minutes later the officer at the desk obtained Luna’s signature and gave her a copy of the report just as Kempski said they would.
Nate relieved her of her suitcase and led her out of the airport police headquarters.
“Your brother is a cop?”
“Yeah, surprisingly.”
“Why is that?”
“He had his share of problems growing up,” she said without elaborating.
“Criminal problems?”
“Nothing major” was her reply.
Nate wondered what Luna’s definition of “major” was.
When they made their way to his car, Nate popped the trunk and tossed the suitcase inside.
“I bet this car has an immobilizer in it.”
The way she said that made him laugh. “And a monitored security system.”
Nate drove a Jeep Grand Cherokee. And it was less than a year old. Giving up the government job meant giving up his G-ride. A downside to be sure. After years of driving a government issued SUV, Nate couldn’t see driving a sedan.
Nate slid into the driver’s seat and glanced over his shoulder and watched as Luna fiddled with her seat belt.
She had that empty gaze as she stared straight ahead.
“Do you think they’ll find my car?” she asked.
Nate started to respond.
Luna didn’t let him.
“I don’t think they’ll find my car.”
He didn’t bother answering since he had to agree with her.
If the thieves wanted her car to resell it or paint it a different color and put on new plates to call it their own . . . then maybe.
But an eleven-year-old car that was worth more in parts?
Nate pulled out of the space and the lot.
There were plenty of cameras that should have picked up on something and someone.
Time would tell.
Nate headed toward the freeway and back to Seattle.
“Do you mind if I call my brother?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
She fished her phone out of her purse and dialed.
With the phone to her ear, the first thing she said was, “Someone stole my car.”
No hello . . . no preamble of “Hey, it’s me.” Just straight to the point of the call.
Nate chuckled.
Even though the call wasn’t on speaker, he could hear a voice on the line talking.
“At the airport. I was in Denver overnight. Parked at Sea-Tac and poof, it’s gone.”
She paused.
“No. No clue . . . Yeah, I have that.”
Nate crawled through late afternoon traffic as Luna once again reached for her purse.
“Hold up. I’m putting you on speaker.”
She did just that and sat her phone on the console between them. “Are you there?”
“Yeah. What did the police say?” Ash’s voice was low, his tone filled with concern.
“That my car was an easy target because it didn’t have a tracker in it.” Luna pulled the report out of her purse and unfolded it.
“They’re right. But the airport, that’s ballsy. There’re cameras everywhere.”
“Cameras that weren’t pointed at my car.”
“Thieves don’t drop from thin air. There has to be footage of them coming and going.”
Luna moaned. “I have the number.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
Luna recited the report number and Kempski’s name.
Ash repeated it back.
“My car is toast, isn’t it?” she asked.
Nate stopped himself from nodding.
“You’re not going to want to hear this but yeah. Best case scenario, the thieves were in your car in seconds, out of the lot in minutes . . . and within an hour . . . maybe two, the frame of that car is sitting on the inside of a camper truck completely scrapped.”
“How is that a ‘best case scenario’?” Luna asked.
Ash paused.
Luna tilted her head to the side.
Nate found himself tuning in to the silence.
“Are you still there?” Luna asked.
“Don’t freak out,” Ash said.
“I don’t like how this is starting,” she replied.
“Best case, these guys are professionals that only want the car.”
The word only stuck out in Nate’s mind.
Of course . . . best case, the car was the target.
Worst case, it was a catalyst for something else.
Fuck.
“Statistically, that’s all they were after,” Nate said out loud.
“Who’s that?” Ash asked.
“It’s Nate. What statistics?” she asked, directing the question to him.
“Who is Nate?”
“A guy . . . What statistics?”
“What guy?” Ash demanded.
“I work with your sister,” Nate said quickly before Luna could say the word statistics again. “I’m also a retired Fed and I know where you’re going.”
“What do you mean you know where he’s going? Where is he going?” She took a breath. “Where are you going, Ash?”
“She needs to take precautions. I’d be there but I’m on shift until midnight. I can ask for time off to get up there, but that—”
“Will you two stop talking to each other in code and tell me what statistics and precautions I need to take? And why would you need to come to Seattle?” Luna had turned in her seat and was glaring between the phone and Nate.
“Because you and Miley live in that big house all alone. And your cat isn’t a guard dog. Yes, statistically there is nothing to be worried about. But you’re my sister.”
Nate couldn’t argue with that.
“All your personal information was in that car, right?” Nate asked. “Name, insurance company?”
“And the navigation system probably has a pre-programmed button that says ‘Home,’ am I right?”
Luna had stopped talking.
Nate didn’t like the look that crossed over her face.
“Professional car thief . . . whatever, they won’t look twice at your information.
Too risky for them to do anything with it and be found out.
So yeah, that’s the best case, Lu. If these guys saw you leave your car .
. . maybe they liked what they saw. You’re cute, I mean I’m your brother, but you know . . .”
Nate wouldn’t use the word cute . . .
Then again, he wasn’t Luna’s brother.
“You think they would come to the house?” she asked.
“They could. There are two kinds of people that leave cars in airport parking lots when they leave on a trip. The kind that live alone and don’t have someone to drop them off .
. . or someone who flies all the time, leaving their home unattended.
They case your house, wait for you to leave, and now you’re missing a car and half your shit.
And then there’s the part where you’re cute. And men suck.”
“Oh.” Luna grew quiet.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Does your house have an alarm system?” Nate asked.
She shook her head and all but whispered, “No.”
Traffic started to spread out, giving Nate the ability to pick up speed.
All the while no one was talking while Luna processed what she’d been told.
“Nate,” Ash started. “I can get there tomorrow. I’ll let my captain know what’s going on. Can you stay there until I—”
“What? You don’t even know Nate. Why would you ask him to stay at the house?”
“You know him well enough to let him pick you up from the airport police station. And he’s a Fed.”
“Ex-Fed,” Nate corrected.
“You have a gun, though, right?”
Nate instinctively glanced at his glove compartment.
Luna saw him, her eyes widened. Then she pulled open said compartment.
Inside was his Glock.
“What the . . .” She reached out to touch it.
Nate placed his hand on her arm. “It’s loaded. Don’t.”
Her hand recoiled.
“Yes, and yes,” Nate said. “I can stick around until you get here.”
Luna’s side-eye and suspended breath suggested she wanted to argue.
“But—”
“Lu, please don’t. I know you’re Ms. Independent and can handle everything, but humor me, okay?”
Luna slapped her lips shut. “Fine,” she bit out.
“I love you,” Ash told her.
The sentiment made Nate smile.
“Love you, too.”
“Great, see you tomorrow.”
With the call ended, Luna closed the glove compartment and stared out the window in silence.
“You don’t have to do this,” she finally said.
“I know.”