“Two teams,” she said. “Andrea and Tori will stay with me. You and Eric can take three properties, we’ll take three.”
Reynolds nodded. “Okay.”
“What about me?” Sam asked.
“You’re not really cleared to work this, Sam.”
“She belongs here as much as I do,” Tori said.
Cameron was surprised by her protest. She’d expected Tori to be happy that Sam was going to stay behind, out of harm’s way.
“She’s not FBI,” Reynolds explained. “Goes against protocol.”
Cameron laughed. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” She glanced at Sam. “Okay. You can come with us.”
Sam smiled at her. “Thank you. I’ll try to stay out of the FBI’s way.”
Reynolds simply shook his head as he headed out of the room.
Chapter Thirty
Tori kicked over a rock with her boot, feeling like they were just biding their time until Rowan gave them something more concrete. To say she had little faith in his algorithms—whatever the hell they were—was an understatement. Perhaps she’d been with Homicide too long. She was used to beating the streets, interviewing people, looking for clues. She wasn’t used to waiting on a computer program to tell her where to look.
“You’re frowning,” Andrea said. “This isn’t your cup of tea, huh?”
Tori turned toward her. For some reason, Andrea could read her almost as well as Sam could.
“No. I’m used to real police work,” she said without thinking. Andrea laughed good-naturedly.
“Yeah. Me too. But it’s not always like this.”
Andrea glanced back at the truck where Sam was waiting. Despite letting her come along, Cameron had been adamant that Sam stay in the truck while they checked the property. Tori thought it was unnecessary—it’s not as if they were likely to stumble upon Angel or anything—but at least Cameron didn’t insist Sam stay at the hotel. She’d actually given her a job—keep tabs on the chatter between the marshals and sheriff’s department. With Rowan’s help, of course.
“I guess you two are ready to get out of here,” Andrea said.
Tori laughed quickly. “Oh, yeah. It’s been a dream vacation so far,” she said sarcastically.
Cameron pocketed her phone after ending the call and walked toward them. “They got nothing.”
“Were you really thinking we’d hit on something?” she asked.
Cameron shrugged. “Got to check them all out. We got nothing better to do.”
Tori sighed. “I know. And one more to go. Where is it?”
They headed back to the truck. “It’s the most remote,” Cameron said. “A few miles out of town. Pueblo Canyon Road.”
Sam opened the door when they approached. Tori shook her head at her unspoken question.
“Did you get with Rowan? Any news?” Cameron asked Sam.
Sam nodded. “They’ve been fielding hundreds of calls. Apparently Angel has been spotted all over the state.”
“Yeah, I imagine. That’s what happens when you post his picture all over the damn place.”
“Nothing’s panned out,” Sam continued. “Rowan also said that Murdock was updating the sheriff’s department with our progress.”
“Progress?” Tori asked. “What progress?”
“He’s just trying to pacify everyone,” Cameron said. “And not piss them off.”
Cameron pulled away from the old, barren house that proved to be as vacant as advertised. Tori had no faith that the third and last one on their list would be any different.
She turned to Sam, who was watching her. She arched an eyebrow and Sam smiled at her. Tori relaxed and let in images of their lovemaking from last night. Sam had been nearly desperate in her touch. It was one of those occasions where they totally connected on every level—body, mind and spirit. It had been so emotional, she couldn’t contain her tears. Embarrassed by them, she’d tried to pull back, but Sam held her, silently kissing her tears away even as her own fell. Tori reached over now and took her hand, letting their fingers entwine. Sam squeezed her hand, her eyes softening as they met Tori’s. She wondered if Sam was as ready to get back home as she was. Yes, home. And get their life back to normal.
“Did Rowan get any hits on credit cards yet?”
Sam pulled her gaze from Tori and looked to the front. Cameron was watching them in the rearview mirror.
“He said he needed at least a couple of more hours on it,” Sam said.
Cameron shook her head. “Supercomputers…you’d think it’d be a little quicker than that.”
Sam shrugged. “Just repeating what he said.”
“Well, we’ll run by this last place, then head back to the hotel,” Cameron said. “He should have something for us before nightfall. Maybe the day won’t be completely lost.”
* * *
Cameron stared in disbelief at the simple dirt driveway that led to the unoccupied—abandoned—house. Tire tracks indicated it might not be so abandoned after all. It couldn’t be this easy. She drove past the driveway and parked along Pueblo Canyon Road some thirty or forty feet away.
“Do you think they’re fresh?” Andrea said.
“No way to be sure,” she said.
She got her binoculars out and focused through the trees, getting a fairly clear view of the house. The windows were covered with blinds or curtains. She could not see inside. On the side of the house, she could make out the back corner of a white car.
“Older model car,” she murmured. “Looks like a sedan. Ford or Chevy. I don’t see any movement.” She handed Andrea the binoculars and took out her phone, calling Rowan. He answered on the second ring. “Yeah, we’re at the property on Pueblo Canyon Road. There’s a car in the back. Need you to verify occupancy,” she said.
“I triple-checked all the properties I sent you,” Rowan said. “It’s been empty for over a year. No utilities. No mail service. It’s not on the market.”
“Who owns it? Maybe they’re local.”
“Hang on,” he said and she heard the quiet tapping on the keyboard. “Owned by Robert Carrillo. Yeah. He lives in Taos.”
“Okay. It could be him. We’ll check it out. Thanks, Rowan.”
“Sure.”
She pocketed her phone again. “The owner of the property lives here in Taos,” she told them. “That could be him.” She then glanced to the backseat where Tori and Sam sat. “You stay put,” she told Sam.
“Yes. I know the drill.”
Cameron nodded. “It would be too easy if it’s Angel. But let’s use caution, just in case.”
She, Tori and Andrea all pulled out their weapons. Even though they were wearing vests, she still felt exposed. She took the lead, her eyes glued to the house, looking for movement. Maybe it was her imagination, but it seemed unnaturally quiet. Each step they took sounded loud to her ears, the gravel of the road crunching beneath their boots.
“I’m going to go around to the back,” she said quietly. “You two take the front. Give me a chance to get back there.” She glanced at Andrea, meeting her eyes. “Nice and slow,” she murmured.
Andrea nodded.
Cameron walked on, inching closer to the side of the house. Andrea and Tori waited for her to get around, then started walking again. A couple of noisy black and white birds—magpies—were flushed from the trees nearer the road, and Cameron turned quickly, surprised to find three sheriff’s department cars skidding to a halt at the edge of the dirt driveway.
“What the hell?”
But she had no time to contemplate it. A single shot from the house—a rifle—shattered glass and the silence was broken. She saw Andrea and Tori hit the ground and she dove behind a tree as the deputies returned fire, their bullets spraying the house at will. Windows exploded with a deafening roar, and Cameron pulled out her phone as she crawled on her stomach farther away from the house.