Chapter Twenty
Camden didn’t sleep a wink. He’d tried. Thoughts of Rochelle invaded his thoughts all night, causing him to toss and turn until he threw off the covers and put on a pot of coffee. Focusing on the case should have been the distraction he needed.
Rochelle was different. She made him feel different. More alive than he’d ever been. She made him want to rethink his position on being single in favor of putting down roots and starting a family.
How wild was that for a person who didn’t do long-term?
He shook off his reverie as Rochelle bounded down the stairs. She wore an old AC/DC concert T-shirt that fell midthigh, revealing the silky skin of her thighs.
“Coffee?” he asked with half a smile, amused at himself. Self-discipline and focus had never been problems for him. Until her.
“Please,” she said.
“What do you like to eat for breakfast?”
“I’m good with pretty much anything,” she said. “But I’d do anything for a bagel right now.”
Camden cleared his throat.
He poured a fresh cup of coffee and then handed it over before popping bagels in the toaster. “I have cream cheese and…”
“Jelly?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” he said. After pulling together the ingredients, he set everything on the granite island along with a butter knife.
Another ten minutes passed, and plates were rinsed and in the dishwasher.
“Where do we go today?” she asked.
“Good question,” Camden said, biting back a yawn.
“Did you sleep?”
“Not much,” he admitted. Between thinking about Rochelle, lack of progress on his grandmother’s condition, and the case, he doubted he’d get quality sleep anytime soon.
“Any update on your grandmother?” she asked.
“No improvement,” he said, which was a bad sign. “My brother, sister, and I decided to meet my mother at the hospital as soon as this case is over. They’re setting it up.”
“That’s good,” she said, hopeful. “If you need moral support, you can always call me. I’d like to stay in touch after the case is over.”
“Okay then,” he said. Friendship was better than nothing. Besides, what else did he have to offer? Nothing she would be willing to take. She deserved better than let’s hang out and see what happens.
Camden shook off the thoughts and refocused.
“Oh. I almost forgot to mention the ballistics report came back. The bullets match. The same person who shot at me at my house tried again at Kage’s apartment.”
“I was just about to suggest we go back to Kage’s place,” he said. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea after all.”
“What other choice do we have?” she asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.
“It might be best to work the case from here,” he said. “Have the higher-ups send someone else to stake out Kage’s apartment while we go over the details of the case. We have to be missing something else.”
“Kage is in danger as long as Asher is out there running free,” she pointed out.
“I know,” he agreed. “We could go back to the trailer. See if we can get a warrant to search the place.”
“My supervisor would insist we bring uniformed officers with us,” she said.
“I can tap into county resources since the trailer isn’t in Austin,” he offered. “See if my boss can put together a quick task force.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said.
Considering the fact she’d been shot at twice, they should be able to get a search warrant now that they could connect Asher Foley to the cases.
Could they get there in time to find Justina alive?
Both busied themselves on the phone and updating reports on computers. An hour passed, and then two before they agreed to get dressed and meet down in the kitchen in half an hour.
True to her word, Rochelle came downstairs at a half hour on the dot. Camden was already downstairs, waiting, drinking a second cup of coffee. After sliding into their shoulder holsters, they were out in the Bronco in a matter of minutes.
Even with her fiery locks pulled into a ponytail off her face, she was gorgeous. There was no hiding a beauty like hers, the kind that came from the inside out.
“We’ll meet the team on the drive, parking in a line,” he said. “The sheriff is sending two deputies.”
“My supervisor is sending a pair of uniformed officers, which should be a big help,” she said. “One will be carrying a search warrant.”
All in all, they would have a team of six.
Not bad. That should give them good coverage around the trailer while others could watch the property.
Depending on what they found inside, they could fan out and search the property.
Drones were a huge help in cases like these.
They could help cover more ground literally from the air, allowing them to scan greater distances in search of outbuildings or sheds on expanses of land.
Rochelle was a capable detective. More than capable. She was a damn fine law-enforcement officer. And yet, he wished there was a way to convince her to step aside on this one. She’d become a target. If anything happened to her on his watch…
He couldn’t let himself go there. Not even hypothetically.
By the time he pulled onto the gravel lane, two SUVs were already parked in front of him. One belonged to a deputy. The other to someone from Austin PD.
“They sent Benny,” she said as Camden parked. “Officer Collin Bennett as he’s known to everyone.”
He cut off the engine.
“I’ll introduce the two of you,” she offered with a little more pep in her voice than he liked. The way she smiled when she waved at Benny sat like a hot poker in his stomach. Jealous much, Remington?
“In a minute,” he said before exiting the vehicle. Before he could get around to open her door, Benny was there. Cool.
Camden nodded and then kept walking to meet up with the deputy who’d parked and was in his vehicle. A quick glance back at Benny’s ring finger didn’t reveal a gold band. Camden needed to check his attraction to Rochelle. She might already be spoken for.
Why did that gut him?
Rochelle watched Camden a few seconds too long as he walked away based on the way Benny stared at her.
“Earth to Rochelle,” he said as he snapped a finger in the air.
“Hey, sorry,” she said before giving Benny a quick hug. “Don’t mind me. I didn’t get much sleep last night and it’s been hell on wheels lately.”
“I heard a rumor someone is using you as target practice,” Benny said. He was six feet tall with a runner’s build. Most would consider the sandy-blond-haired officer good-looking. He had a personality to boot. But Camden was more Rochelle’s type.
“Yeah, it’s not fun.”
“Do you want to crash at my place?” he asked.
“I have it under control,” she said, not wanting to admit that she stayed with Camden last night and wanted to do the same tonight if the offer stood.
“You call me if anything changes,” Benny said.
“You’d be the first on my list,” she said with a smile. He’d always been a good friend. Ever since going through the academy together.
“I read the report about what we’re about to walk into,” Benny said, the jovial quality gone as he shifted gears into law-enforcement mode. “Or should I say possibly about to walk into?”
“This is the home of Asher Foley,” she said. “But I doubt he keeps the victims here if he’s our guy.”
“Is there any doubt about him being the perp?” Benny asked.
“Not in my mind,” she said. “The evidence is too strong against him.”
“Except that he has a twin brother,” Benny said. “I did some digging and found out the mother dropped the other twin off at a fire station.” He shook his head. “Pretty coldhearted if you ask me.”
“I don’t know how you would pick which twin to keep,” Rochelle said.
Motherhood had never been something she’d craved.
Except an image of Camden holding their infant had crept into her thoughts.
It was projection, she decided. Nothing more.
“Maybe there’ll be something inside that can tell us more about what makes Asher tick. ”
“I hope so,” Benny said. “Losing you isn’t an option.” As he said those last words, Camden came walking up. He introduced himself. His tense expression reminded her of the danger they were in just by standing out in the open.
After Camden and Benny shook hands, Camden said, “The others are almost here. We can wait or we can deliver this warrant and let them catch up.”
“There’s four of us here,” she said. “That should be enough to knock on a door.”
The probability that Asher would answer was low. He most likely wasn’t home. He could be anywhere.
“Oh, one more thing,” Benny said. “Foley’s mother died of cirrhosis of the liver five years ago.”
“Alcoholic?” Rochelle asked, since it was the most common reason for the disease.
“Sissy Foley was in and out of jail for prostitution and drug possession,” Benny said.
“Doesn’t sound like someone who paid attention to her child,” Rochelle stated. “Let’s go see what kind of mess she left behind.”
The morning sun beat down on Rochelle’s face despite the cool breeze.
The sun in Texas was as relentless as the heat that accompanied it.
Nerves on edge, she headed toward the door.
Camden walked in front of her while Benny came up from behind.
The fact she was being sandwiched by two tall, broad people wasn’t lost on her.
They were forming a protective barrier in case the shooter took aim.
As much as she could hold her own, arguing with these two stubborn people would only waste precious time. Since they’d been here for more than fifteen minutes already, any residents of the trailer would be alerted to their presence.
Camden knocked on the door. No answer. He demanded anyone inside should open the door and then identified himself.
The second round of knocks came with the warning they were about to enter the residence with or without permission.
One last look at everyone gathered around the door was all Camden needed before trying the door handle. Locked. He stepped aside as an officer brought forth a battering ram. With one thrust, the door split open.
The next couple of seconds happened in a flurry of coordinated activity. All four law-enforcement officers rushed in as a pair joined them from behind. Everyone fanned out, weapons drawn.
Stench from stacked pizza boxes and dirty dishes in the sink hit full force as Rochelle stepped inside the dwelling.
The brown carpet was a relic from the seventies.
There was an equally old brown-and-yellow checkered sofa sitting four feet from a flat-screen TV on a console.
A TV tray was positioned as a makeshift coffee table.
In the kitchen, there was a broken-down oak table and pair of chairs in equally bad shape. Not that it was used for eating. Stacks of pizza boxes with flies buzzing around them filled the round table.
After scanning the living room and kitchen, Camden signaled for a set of officers to take the hallway to the right, where typically there would be two small bedrooms and a bath. He led Rochelle and a uniform across the kitchen into the adjoining master suite.
Flies buzzed around, scattering as the trio blazed through the kitchen.
“What the hell?” Camden muttered as he entered the bedroom.
He immediately headed toward the closet and then the bathroom as Rochelle cleared the bedroom.
Instead of a bed, there was a twin-size mattress on the floor pushed up against one wall.
On the other side of the room was an old desk that was propped up on one of the legs with old magazines.
A ragged baby doll was on the floor. A blown-up picture of a woman that had been used as target practice with darts was taped to one wall.
Darts littered the nasty, beer-stained carpet.
The wall above the desk was covered with taped photographs of…
Rochelle moved closer to get a better look. Kage?
Had to be.
“Is that what I think it is?” Camden asked as he cut across the room to join her.
“Kage walking into the Laundromat,” Rochelle said. “Kage walking into the nightclub.”
“Asher has been stalking his twin,” Camden said. “Why?”
“They were separated at birth and the mother kept Asher,” Rochelle said. “Benny said Kage was dropped off at a fire station.”
Camden studied the battered picture of the woman on the wall next to them. “I’m guessing this is Sissy.”
“Hey,” an officer from the opposite side of the trailer called out. “You gotta see this.”
There was more? Rochelle took a deep breath—a mistake, given the stench—and turned toward the kitchen.
What else waited for them?