Chapter Two
Whatever was going on between Camden Remington and Kage Durham needed to stop so Rochelle could assess the situation. Bringing the man who’d arrested Kage didn’t seem like the brightest idea, considering the sheer amount of rage coming off Kage in waves.
“Would you mind taking another look at the photo?” Rochelle asked. At this point, the assumption was that Justina was still alive. Rochelle would like to keep it that way. Could they get to the victim before it was too late?
“What does this have to do with me?” Kage asked, not hiding the contempt in his voice. The man was well-spoken, tall, and most would consider him attractive.
Rochelle needed to come at this from a different angle. “Does the name Justina Worth mean anything to you?”
“Should it, Detective?” Kage continued the game of answering questions with another question.
“That’s what we’re here to find out, Mr. Durham,” she stated in as calm a voice as she could.
Kage offered a cursory glance at the photo. “Like I said, I’ve never seen this woman before in my life, but you can tell whoever’s in charge to cut it out with the shadow on me. I can’t turn around without someone following.”
“What does that mean?” Rochelle asked, cocking her head to one side, and raising an eyebrow. Was the man delusional? Or did he have a mental condition she wasn’t aware of? Paranoia?
“Ever since my release, someone has been following me,” Kage said with a frustrated sigh. “At first, I thought it was you.” He flicked his gaze at Camden. “But I’m sure the federal government wouldn’t waste valuable resources on a small-time criminal like me.”
“Justina Worth is missing,” Rochelle stated as plainly as she could to bring the gravity of the current situation front and center.
Kage was too busy licking his wounds from his arrest and incarceration, and clearly blamed Camden for it, which was misguided at best. “This is serious. We’re trying to locate her and thought you—”
Kage leaned in, cutting her off with his glare. “Like I already said. Never heard that name in my life.” He bared his teeth like an agitated dog warning its adversary to back off.
“Where were you last Saturday night?” Rochelle asked, needing to redirect.
“I went out for a drink at a nearby nightclub,” Kage stated. “Is that against the law now?”
“Depends on what you did while you were there and after you left,” Rochelle returned.
“I didn’t do anything except have a nonalcoholic beer, realized the place was way too crowded, and then I left,” he said, his voice taut.
“What time did you exit the nightclub?” Rochelle asked.
Kage shrugged. “I’m not exactly certain.”
“You must have a rough idea,” Camden declared, his voice a study in calm.
“Before midnight,” Kage said with another exasperated sigh.
“I could call your parole officer,” Camden said. “See how she feels about you going to a place where alcohol is served.”
“What are you accusing me of this time?” Kage asked, impatience edged in his tone. “Because my parole officer isn’t going to care about me stepping out when I didn’t drink alcohol or cause a problem.”
“Are you denying your conviction, Kage?” Camden continued. “Or the fact that you need to watch your p’s and q’s or risk going back to prison?”
“No one said I was,” Kage countered. “But I deserve to know why you showed up here, asking my whereabouts while simultaneously asking if I know of a Justina What’s-her-name.
Are you asking if I had anything to do with this woman’s disappearance?
Because that’s outta line. I messed up before and paid my dues.
” He swept his hand across his body like he was showing the newest model of an expensive automobile.
“As you can see, I’m living the high life here.
I lost all my business because of that jail sentence. ”
Nice that he wasn’t taking responsibility for the fact that he was the one who’d committed the crimes that had cost his livelihood, she thought sarcastically. No, it was law enforcement’s fault for busting him. What about the lives he’d destroyed by stealing folks’ identities?
It was just like a perp to blame others for their fate because they got caught.
“We’re trying to find a missing person,” Rochelle said, attempting to bring the conversation back to the point of their visit. A muscle in Camden’s jaw ticked as tensions increased. “And we’ll be speaking to anyone and everyone who might be connected to the case so we can find this person alive.”
Kage shook his head. Those bared teeth came out again. “Once a criminal, always a criminal. Is that it?”
“I’d personally appreciate it if you wouldn’t waste our time,” Rochelle said out of frustration. Trying to keep Kage on topic was proving impossible when he had nothing but venom for law-enforcement officers.
Camden took a step toward Kage. “The next time we come here, it’ll be with your parole officer, and we won’t be asking your permission to enter your apartment.”
“I’d invite you inside, but I’m fresh out of meat for my charcuterie board,” Kage quipped, more daggers shooting from his eyes. One thing was clear—he wasn’t going to help them voluntarily. It would take a warrant to cross the threshold the man was protecting like his life depended on it.
Rochelle had been listening for any sounds coming from the apartment that would indicate someone was trapped inside.
The low hum of a TV in the background provided enough noise to mask a quiet plea for help.
Based on what Rochelle could make out, the show was one of the many sequels to Rocky.
How many Creed movies were they up to now?
Rochelle didn’t know. Camden might. The irony of a former convict watching a movie about an underdog wasn’t lost on her.
She reached into her pocket and retrieved a business card. “These are rarely used anymore, but if you can think of anything that might help us with the case, I’d appreciate a call.”
Kage stared at the small three-and-a-half-by-two-inch card like it was a bomb about to detonate.
Rather than stand there with her hand stuck out in between them, she flicked the card in the open space between the door and above his shoulder.
“Keep it,” she said to him before turning to her partner for this visit. “Ready?”
Camden stood there for a long moment, not breaking eye contact with Kage.
The timeline worked for the case. A man had been seen leaving with the victim.
All signs pointed to Kage being guilty. However, the grainy surveillance video wouldn’t be enough to convict.
Not to mention, Justina might have run away from her life on purpose.
The pain of losing her father might have been too great, so she’d needed to get lost for a while.
“You a Texas Rangers fan?” Camden asked.
“Why would I be?” Kage asked, disgusted.
“Just asking,” Camden stated.
What was that all about?
Camden knew something was fishy with Kage. But what?
“Look, I told you before, and I’ll tell you again,” Kage said in a tone that was one-hundred-percent believable, “I didn’t have anything to do with the disappearance of this lady.
” He paused as a muscle in his jaw pulsed.
“I’m not that unlucky with the opposite sex that I would need to force anyone to be in my company. ”
The man was built. He had sandy blond hair and brown eyes. He resembled a stockier version of the dude from the popular movies involving shades of gray, chin stubble included.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Durham,” Rochelle said, stopping Camden from commenting on the fact men who hurt women weren’t always considered ugly or undatable.
“I’d say it was a pleasure, but I gave up lying for Lent,” Kage quipped.
“We’d like to get through Thanksgiving this week before we worry about what comes before Easter,” Rochelle murmured, then rolled her eyes and turned toward the SUV.
“A comedian,” Kage called after her. “Do me a favor and take your show on the road. You won’t find what you’re looking for here anyway, and I’m a little tired of being harassed.”
Harassment was a serious offense and not an accusation Camden took lightly. Kage was trying to push Camden’s buttons with the comment. Camden refused to be baited into an argument by the ex-convict.
Instead, he thanked Kage for his time and then followed Rochelle to the SUV before climbing into the passenger seat.
“Good idea to let the lady drive,” Kage shouted as Camden reached for the door handle to close the door. “Can’t have a hothead, rogue cop behind the wheel.”
Camden closed the door and buckled in. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kage laughing. Think you got the last word? Think again.
“That was pleasant,” Rochelle said as she started the engine and then backed out of the parking spot.
“He’s just trying to rile me up,” Camden explained. “He always swears he has some kind of doppelganger out there making his life miserable.”
“Why would he think that?” Rochelle asked as she navigated onto the residential road with a speed limit of thirty. Too bad other vehicles on the road didn’t seem to notice the sign as one whizzed past.
“Take the surveillance video for example,” Camden began. “Kage says he left about fifteen to twenty minutes before the camera caught him walking out with Justina.”
“He estimated the time,” she said, shrugging.
“His name has come up in other crimes in locations he supposedly left just before the crime occurred,” he said. “Coincidence?”
She raised her eyebrows. “If so, the man has the worst luck in history.”
“Or he’s smarter than we realize and committing crimes without getting caught,” he said.
“The male in the surveillance video resembles his build, but the perp is a master at hiding his face from the camera,” she said as she cut a left-hand turn.
“As though he knew he was doing something wrong and didn’t want to get caught rather than leaving a nightclub after having a drink,” Camden pointed out.
“Do you believe that he didn’t have alcohol?” she asked.
“We could always check more of the footage,” he replied. “The ball cap bothers me.”
“What about it?” Rochelle asked.
“The guy caught on camera had on a Texas Rangers baseball cap,” Camden said.
“Yeah?”
“Do you like sports?” he asked her.
“Not really,” she answered with a glance in his direction. “I know the irony of living in Texas and having no real fondness for football.”
“Some people might consider that a sacrilege,” he pointed out with a smirk.
“Don’t tell me you bought in to the whole Friday Night Lights bit,” she said, sounding surprised.
“I played,” he said. “I’m from a small town in Texas.” He laughed. “If you don’t play sports, there isn’t a whole helluva lot else to do.”
“You got me there,” she said. “I was born here in Austin.”
“Are you on the keep-Austin-weird committee?” he asked, relaxing a little bit after the tense exchange with Kage. The problem with talking to Kage Durham was that a piece of Camden actually believed the guy, which went against all logic and all of Camden’s experience in law enforcement.
But, hey, anomalies were rare. If they were common, they’d be called ordinary. Camden almost laughed at his own wittiness.
“When he was alive, my dad was a huge hockey fan,” Rochelle said. “He made a big production of game days. My mom would make cookies in the shape of hockey pucks, complete with icing. She really went all out.”
“What was his favorite team?”
“Easy,” she said. “Pittsburgh Penguins. His family was from Pittsburgh, and there’s a long line of Penguin fans on the Paddock side of the family.
” She added, “My parents moved to Austin after they got married for my dad’s work and then earned their hats and boots years later, after falling in love with Texas. ”
“Would your dad ever wear a Philadelphia Flyers jersey?” he asked.
“My dad wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those,” she quipped. “Are you kidding me? That’s a sacrilege even to suggest it.”
“Exactly,” Camden pointed out.
“Kage is a self-proclaimed Houston Astros fan,” Camden said. “He wore their ball cap the day I arrested him. I commented about it on the ride to the station and he was clear about his allegiance to the team. Why would he be wearing a Texas Rangers hat?”
“I’m guessing those teams are big rivals if you’re comparing them to the Penguins and Flyers…?”
He confirmed with a nod.
“Kage, of all people, would know about the rivalry,” Rochelle offered.
Camden nodded again. But Kage might wear a rival’s ball cap to throw others off his trail.
“It’s also possible that he stopped off at a convenience store at some point and bought the first ball cap he could find,” she offered.
“I thought of that too,” Camden said. “And, yes, it makes logical sense that Kage could try to throw law enforcement off by wearing a rival team’s ball cap. However, something in me doubts he would go to that much trouble. Wouldn’t he just grab a cap that he already owns?”
Even people willing to break the law had a code. That had been niggling at the back of Camden’s mind.
A loyal fan wouldn’t willingly wear apparel from a rival team.
Kage’s TV room in the rental home he’d lived in when he’d been arrested had an entire wall of Houston Astros memorabilia—all bought with money gained illegally. All sold at auction.
Kage wouldn’t wear a Texas Rangers ball cap. He just wouldn’t.