"You Stride?" she asked. With her heels on, she was as tall as Stride, and she looked right at him.
"That's right." He found himself holding eye contact with her. Flirting. "This is my partner, Maggie Bei, who spreads lies about me on the phone."
"It's Sorenson," Maggie said. "He forgets I'm married." She took note of the way Stride and Serena were looking at each other and smirked. "Apparently, he forgets that he is, too."
Stride shot Maggie an evil glance, and she quickly stuck out her tongue at him.
"I love your uniform," Maggie added. "Do all the chick cops in Vegas get to wear that?"
Serena stripped off her sunglasses and studied Maggie from head to toe. Her smile curled into something more wicked. "Only the chick cops with tits, sweetie."
Maggie laughed out loud. She turned to Stride. "I like her."
Stride took another glance at Serena's body and didn't try to hide his interest. He felt something electric when she looked back. "You're in Minnesota now," Stride told Serena. "There's a dress code."
"You mean boring?"
"Exactly."
"Well, you guys don't seem so boring," Serena said.
Maggie laughed. "Wait until you get to know us."
They headed out of the gate area. Heads continued to rotate in Serena's direction as she passed by. Maggie and Stride lingered a few steps behind, and Maggie, laughing, leaned closer and whispered, "Do you two want to be alone?"
"Oh, shut up," Stride retorted.
On the lower level, they retrieved a hard-sided blue Samsonite suitcase that matched Serena's leather pants. Stride lifted the case off the carousel and gasped under the weight.
"Holy shit, did you bring the body with you?"
Serena laughed. "Oh, sorry, would that not be correct procedure here?"
They returned through the revolving doors. The air was still warm, but a breeze rolled in across the hills. Serena put on her sunglasses again and took a deep breath. "God, that's great Fresh air. Feels like winter."
"Well, it's a little cooler in winter," Stride said.
"Like a hundred degrees cooler," Maggie said.
Serena nodded. "Yeah, I looked up Minnesota on the Web, and it pretty much sounded like the icebox of the nation. But this is nice. It's a buck twenty back home. Hot Preheat your oven sometime, then stick your face inside. That's Vegas."
"I was married in Reno," Maggie told her.
"Yeah? I like Reno. I love the mountains. I keep telling myself someday I'll get the hell out of the desert"
"You married?" Maggie asked her.
Serena shook her head. "No."
They reached Maggie's SUV. Serena clambered into the backseat and leaned casually over the front seat to talk with Stride as they got inside. Stride felt her elbow grazing his neck and could smell a hint of perfume. Her breath was sweet. He was uncomfortably aware of everything about her.
"You're absolutely sure the body you found in the desert is Rachel Deese?" Maggie asked her.
Serena nodded. "I'm sure. Prints matched what you put in the system. Plus, a witness identified her photo from a news clipping. Sorry about that. I know it puts you guys in an awkward position."
"We're used to that," Maggie said, chuckling.
"Does anyone else out here know about this yet?' Serena asked.
Stride shook his head. "Just us and the chief. I didn't want it leaking out I thought we could break the news to her mother first. It'll hit the papers and television as soon as we start talking to people."
"Yeah, I imagine this will be big news around here. I read the newspaper report Bizarre case. If I were you, I would have thought she was dead, too."
"Thanks," Stride said.
"Anyway, after we tell the mother, I guess we should open up the case files and start investigating the girl's friends and anyone else who knew her."
Stride twisted around in his seat. Their faces were only a couple of inches apart. "How's that going to help solve a murder in Vegas?"
Serena took off her sunglasses again, and Stride looked into her jade-green eyes. Originally, when he saw her walk off the plane, he thought she was younger than she was, but close up, he could see the maturity in her face. Her smile lines were deep. She must have been in her midthirties, which to Stride was still young, but her face was etched with an older, wiser sensibility. Her smile came often and easily, and her eyes joked with him, but there was also a distance, a lack of trust that hovered between them like a thin film. He wondered if it was because she sensed the same sexual chemistry between them that he did.
He realized she hadn't answered his question.
"Well, Serena?" Maggie asked, giving them both a sideways glance.
"I take it you guys are familiar with the Range Bank," Serena said.
"Sure," Stride said. "I bank there, along with half the city. What difference does that make?"
Serena leaned even closer. "CSI found part of an ATM receipt from the Range Bank in Rachel's apartment. So either she was back here recently or someone from home paid her a visit."
39
Stride picked up Serena at the motel on Friday morning just after nine o'clock. He knocked on her door, and when she answered, her black hair was damp from a recent shower, and her skin glowed. She had toned down her wardrobe, wearing a faded pair of blue jeans, a snug navy T-shirt, and cowboy boots. She flashed a welcoming smile.
"Hey, Stride," she said. "Come on in. I'm almost ready."
Her shower had left the tiny room humid and fragrant. The mirror beside the television was steamed over. He saw her suitcase open on the bureau, her clothes folded inside. A queen-sized bed was squeezed between the walls.
"Sorry about the room," he said. "Summer's the busy season here."
Serena shrugged. "That's all right."
She sat on the edge of the bed and began to put on tiny silver earrings. Her fingertips seemed to caress her earlobes. Stride found he couldn't take his eyes off her. Serena looked up and noticed and, after a long moment, glanced nervously away.
"I called Rachel's mother on the cell phone on the way over," he said, feeling awkward. "I finally got through to her. We can stop there first."
"Did you break the news?"
Stride shook his head. "No, I just said I wanted to talk to her. She probably suspects."
Serena stood up. They were close enough to kiss, and Stride felt a wild desire to do just that.
"We better go," he said.
Outside, they climbed into Stride's truck. The seats were coming apart, and he had covered the dashboard with Post-it notes related to various investigations. A day-old mug of coffee was lodged in the cup holder, and part of the Duluth newspaper was strewn on the floor.
Serena saw his embarrassment and smiled. "Don't worry. I like a truck with that lived-in look. How old's the coffee?"
"Old."
"You guys got a Starbucks near here?"
"Sure. But I usually go to McDonald's. It's hot and cheap. Want to drive through?"
"Okay," she said. "But I may hit you up for some real coffee later."
They got two steaming cups of coffee, and Stride threw out the old one. He also ordered some hash browns and munched them as they drove. Serena dangled her arm outside the truck. The breeze whipped in and mussed her newly brushed hair. She sipped her coffee. Stride stole glances at her, and once or twice, she looked back his way. They didn't say much.
A few islands of fog lingered on the road. He switched on his headlights as he drove in and out of the patches of mist. At the crest of the hill, overlooking the rest of the city, he saw Serena lean forward, staring down at the hints of lake visible through the haze.
"This is amazing," she murmured. "When you live in the desert for a long time, you forget about water and trees."
"I've never been to the desert," Stride said.