Chapter Ten
After a quick stop for convenience-store coffee and a bland bagel, Rochelle hopped into the passenger seat.
“I can’t stop thinking about how busy Kage would have to be if he was responsible for these kidnappings and still had time to stalk your home last night,” Camden said after gobbling down the awful bagel and washing it down with burnt coffee.
He made a face but didn’t complain. They’d both done this dance before.
The old routine of “get something—anything—in your stomach while on the road.”
“The kidnapping happened days ago,” she pointed out.
“Which would make Justina the fourth victim,” he said.
“That’s right.”
“And, somehow, he still had time to swing by the bar?” he asked. “I don’t know. Nothing makes sense to me at this point.”
It wasn’t unusual for the puzzle pieces of a case to seem unrelated until she found the one bit that connected all the dots.
The mental challenge was a big part of the reason she’d become a detective in the first place.
The other more important one had to do with putting the bad guys behind bars so they couldn’t hurt anyone else ever again.
“I know what you mean. It’ll click.” It had to.
There was no way in hell she intended to allow these cases to run cold.
The percentage of cold cases that were eventually solved was heart-wrenchingly low.
Families deserved to know what happened to their loved ones.
“Everyone in law enforcement has a story,” Camden said. “What’s yours?”
“I already told you that I’m an only child,” she said.
“What I didn’t say was that my best friend from age eight to twelve was also an only child.
We were thick as thieves, the two of us.
” She took a second before saying her friend’s name.
After all these years, it was still a gut punch.
“Victoria McGowen was her name.” Rochelle breathed in a slow breath as the song “Butterfly Kisses” came to mind.
Victoria had been obsessed with them. All things butterflies, actually.
“For four years, she was all I had. But her parents started fighting when we were around ten years old. They were probably hiding their disagreements before then. The fights escalated so Victoria stayed at our house most of the time. Then, her father demanded she come home. Back then, I had no idea a person could hurt their own child. Victoria always made excuses for turning up with bruises. It wasn’t until years later that I put it all together. ”
“What happened?”
“He flipped out one day while cleaning his gun,” she said.
“It discharged by accident. The bullet went through Victoria’s bedroom wall to strike her.
” She stopped to gather her thoughts and stop the moisture gathering in her eyes.
She never talked about what happened. She never allowed herself to think about what had gone down.
And yet, she realized the irony because that day changed everything for Rochelle. “She didn’t survive.”
“I’m so sorry,” Camden said, his voice a balm to a broken heart.
“Her mother lost it,” she continued. “Wrestled the dad for the gun, ended up getting shot in the process.”
“That’s awful, Rochelle. I couldn’t be sorrier for a tragedy like that to have happened, let alone to people you obviously cared about.”
“The dad was consumed with guilt after calming down and realizing what he’d done.” She paused to take another breath. Being with Camden made her able to talk about a past she’d buried so deep that she was only beginning to realize how deeply the wounds had affected her. “He took his own life.”
Camden’s hand closed over hers. His was huge by comparison, and rough. Another time, another place, she would allow herself to imagine those hands roaming over her body.
“It’s an unimaginable horror,” he soothed with compassion that wrapped her in warmth.
“An entire family was gone.” She snapped the fingers of her free hand. “Just like that.”
“You lost your best friend,” he said, his deep timbre offering more reassurance than she should probably allow.
It would be a little too easy to lean into his strength.
And then what? Have nothing again when this case was closed?
Rochelle had learned the hard way that it was so much harder to have a confidant and lose them than not to have one at all.
The pain of losing a best friend was almost too much.
With Camden, it would be ten times worse because the current running between them was loaded with promise.
“I did,” she said quietly. “And every milestone birthday makes me wonder what Victoria would have been like at that age. Would we still be best friends? Would we have gone to college together? Would we have been roommates like we’d planned?”
“It must have been lonely,” he said, using his thumb to draw circles around her palm. “Growing up without her.”
“You have no idea,” she said.
“You’ve lost so much,” he continued.
She should probably end this conversation before she went down the rabbit hole of letting him be her comfort. Because his words soothed her far better than anything she’d ever known.
With a deep breath, she released his hand and sat up straighter in her seat. “We should probably get going.”
Camden sat there for a long moment before finally turning on the engine and driving out of the parking lot.
The drive to Kage’s place was spent in comfortable silence. Too comfortable. Rochelle was letting down her guard with Camden, bit by bit, despite knowing better.
They were partners while working this investigation.
It was only logical to have a desire to get to know each other better.
She’d opened up more to him than any of the guys she’d dated.
At some point in every relationship, her romantic partner expected her to open up.
She’d never once been able or inspired to.
One by one, she’d watched each one walk out the door, head down, taking the loss rather than sticking it out in a no-win situation.
She was the no-win situation they walked away from.
Opening up to Camden had felt like the most right thing in the world. He’d comforted her. His words would stay with her, easing some of the pain she’d tucked away so deep she’d almost forgotten it existed. Almost.
“Do you want to take the lead with Kage?” Camden asked.
“Sure,” she said absently. Someone had tried to kill her. That someone might be Kage. Rochelle gave herself a mental shake so she could refocus on the case, on the lives that were in mortal danger. There were two murder victims. There were two kidnapping victims. The perp would strike again soon.
Could Rochelle get there in time?
Panic caused her shirt to feel two sizes too small. Breathe.
She willed Justina to live. She would be next to die based on the perp’s pattern so far.
Rochelle had to stop the bastard before he got the chance.
Camden parked the truck on the street near Kage’s apartment. He immediately hopped out and then came around the front of the vehicle to open Rochelle’s door. She took his hand as she climbed down, and he realized hers was trembling.
Pausing, Camden pulled Rochelle into an embrace. “Hey. I’m here anytime you want to talk about the past. I’ll do anything in my power to comfort you.”
“Thank you for that,” Rochelle said, pulling away.
The moment she’d leaned in, though, the world had finally righted itself.
“I’m good now.” Chin up, he could see how strong she was trying to be.
So he stepped back and gave her space. When she was ready to talk, he would be here.
That was all she needed to know. It would be up to her if she took him up on the offer.
Camden resisted the urge to reach out to grab her hand and link their fingers. Instead, they walked side by side to Kage’s apartment.
After three bold knocks, there was not even a hint anyone was home. Which meant Kage was home and not answering, or out. Brutalizing his latest victim?
There wasn’t enough evidence to haul him in for questioning. Camden hoped that would change very soon. Though, if Kage was responsible, the man was savvy. He’d become a better criminal since his mail-fraud and identity theft schemes. From mail fraud to murder?
The leap didn’t sit well. The logic was flawed no matter how circumstantial the evidence might be. Not to mention the evidence against him was weak at best. Camden issued a sharp sigh.
“Guess we should come back,” Rochelle said after another round of police-raid-style knocking.
The door suddenly swung open.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Kage said, shirt off. He was wearing jeans and no shoes or socks. “I have neighbors to think about.” He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. The chill in the air didn’t seem to bother the man.
“We have questions,” Rochelle stated.
“Fine,” Kage said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where’s your vehicle?”
“I parked on the street,” Camden said, motioning toward his truck. Was it a good idea? Now, Kage would know which vehicle belonged to Camden. If he was the shooter from last night, he could follow them.
“Then, let’s go talk inside your truck,” Kage stated, glancing around. Was there a reason beyond embarrassment that Kage might want to walk them away from his place?
“What about going inside?” Rochelle asked.
“I’d rather sit in your truck,” Kage stated. “At least that way, I won’t have law enforcement hanging around my front door.”
“Fine,” Rochelle replied, leading the way to the dual cab pickup. “I’ll take the back seat.” She walked the trio to the truck and then climbed inside. Kage took the passenger seat while Camden sat in the driver’s seat once again.
“Do you seriously believe I’m capable of what you’re accusing me of?” Kage asked, raking his fingers through his hair.
Camden reached for a spare T-shirt. “Here, put this on.”
Kage did, looking like he just realized he didn’t have on a shirt. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Where were you last night?” Rochelle asked.
“Home,” he said, “Why?”
“Can you prove your whereabouts from eleven p.m. to one o’clock in the morning?” she asked.
“No,” he admitted on a frustrated sigh. “Why?”
Camden would want to know why someone was asking this line of questioning if he was in the hot seat.
He didn’t normally have compassion for folks who broke the law.
The more this case dragged on, the less his instincts said Kage could be responsible.
Instincts and a nickel were worth about five cents.
Even those that had been honed by years of experience still had to be proved.
The best course of action was to follow the evidence.
“For now, it’s our turn to ask questions,” he said to Kage.
“Does that mean I’ll get a turn?”
“I won’t promise to answer, but you’ll get a chance,” Camden said. The answer seemed to satisfy Kage.
“Can I say something?” Kage asked a beat later. His wide eyes and dilated pupils marked fear, which was a shift from anger.
“Go ahead,” Rochelle said.
“After your last visit, I did a little digging around,” Kage admitted. “I’m not guilty of kidnapping those women.”
“We’d like to believe you, but you’re going to have to cooperate,” Rochelle stated.
“I won’t go to prison for something I didn’t do,” he continued, as if she hadn’t just spoken.
The guy had every reason to be worried. Kidnapping and murder charges followed by a conviction would lead to a maximum-security prison.
Kage had done time in a federal penitentiary for a federal crime.
Maximum security housed hardcore criminals—criminals that would eat Kage’s lunch if he didn’t watch his back at every turn.
Camden couldn’t shake the instinct that Kage was telling the truth about his innocence. But the video from the nightclub said otherwise. And now, a kidnapping from a Laundromat near his home.
“Where do you do your wash?” Rochelle asked, barreling ahead with her questions.
“What?”
“You heard me,” she said.
“Right, but what does that have to do with anything?” he asked. And then it seemed to dawn on him there must be another victim. He released a string of swear words underneath his breath. “We have a laundry room here on property, but the machines are always busted. I got to a place nearby.”
“What’s the name of the Laundromat?” Rochelle asked. She would have made a great poker player. Her expression gave away nothing. No matter how upset or fearful Kage became, her face was unreadable.
“The place is called Spin Cycle,” he said after a moment of silent recall.
“Do you mind if we head there now?” Rochelle asked in an unscripted move.
“I’m not wearing shoes,” Kage said.
“We’ll wait here while you go get a pair,” Rochelle responded.
With another frustrated sigh, Kage said, “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
They could keep watch as he walked back to his apartment, so Camden didn’t worry about losing Kage between here and the front door.
Kage shrugged out of Camden’s T-shirt before tossing it onto the front seat. “I’ll get my own shirt too.”
Camden nodded, then Kage made the trek back to his place. Every few steps, he hopped on one foot, no doubt stepping on a rock or a stick along the way.
“You think he’s innocent,” Rochelle stated.
“The evidence will give us the answer to that question,” he said.
“That’s not what I said,” she pointed out.
“I know.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Gut instinct,” he admitted with a shrug. “But the evidence strongly suggests that I’m wrong on this one.”
“What if I think the same thing?”
Camden let the question hang in the air, unsure what to make of it as he watched Kage disappear into the apartment.