side table where he could have sworn he’d tossed his car keys and cell phone the night before. “My phone?” he said absently, patting the pockets of his jeans then moving into the bedroom to look around.
Kevin followed, eyeing him suspiciously as he leaned in the doorway and took in the surroundings. “Captain’s been trying to get hold of you all morning.”
Rick stopped rummaging through the room and glanced at the clock. “It’s seven fifty-five!”
“He’s apparently a vampire like you.” Kevin yawned. “Woke me up at an ungodly hour because he couldn’t reach you. You’ve been my mission for the last hour.”
Rick seriously needed a lesson in expectation management. Barely having a life was one thing. Having his boss call out the posse because he hadn’t shown up for work early brushed the edge of illegal. “What’s the captain doing working on a Saturday anyway?” he grumbled.
“Creed Thornton managed to get his property released from evidence,” Kevin explained. “They’re coming first thing this morning to pick up everything we seized from his condo.”
“That’s why I got to it yesterday.” Rick went back to looking for his cell phone.
“Captain wants to know why you checked out his laptop.” Then with an added layer of annoyance, Kevin added, “And since we’re supposed to be working this case together, it might be nice if you told me, too.”
“If you’d met me at Scotty’s last night like you should have, you’d already know.”
Kevin pulled a pen from his coat jacket, bent over and used it to lift Jessie’s emerald-green thong out from behind his TV stand. “Looks like you ended up better off without me,” he said, holding it up as if it were crime scene evidence.
Rick stepped over and yanked the panties away from his partner. He preferred his personal life stay personal, having had enough of it all over the news when his wife was killed. And the look he flashed Kevin said the man wasn’t going to get the gory details he was looking for.
“Message delivered. Why don’t you let me shower and get dressed and I’ll meet you down at the station?”
“You forgot the part about filling me in on what you’re doing with our murder investigation.” Kevin moved in, kicked away the pillow from Rick’s side chair and took a seat. “Why did you check out the laptop last night? The crime lab said it was clean.”
“I want a second opinion.”
Kevin laughed. “Not that smarmy hacker friend of yours from the Haight.”
“He’s not a friend.”
“You aren’t denying the smarmy part.”
“He’s better than the geek squad downtown.”
Kevin conceded, knowing Rick was right. The crime lab was good at sniffing deleted files out of PCs and laptops. And on occasion they’d worked wonders tracing lines through the Internet and drumming up long-lost e-mails. But they weren’t the be all and end all in computer hacking, and his “smarmy friend” in the Haight was.
“You realize nothing this guy finds will stand up in court. Any lead you get from it will get tossed out the minute a sharp lawyer discovers how you got it.”
“Thank you for the lesson in criminal justice.”
“I’m just sayin’…” He shrugged before taking a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah, and like you said, they’re coming to pick up his evidence this morning. I’ve got a better chance with it in the hands of my hacker than back with a murderer.” He stared hard at his partner before adding, “That laptop’s the only chance we’ve got. This case is going cold, about to turn Arctic the minute Thornton’s lawyers collect that computer this morning.” He turned back to the bathroom and tossed over his shoulder, “Besides, you know as well as I do we can get around explaining how we come up with tips. We need to look again at what’s on there, then worry about what to do with it.”
“They’re gonna be pissed when the laptop’s not there. I get the feeling the captain’s willing to cover your ass, but he needs an explanation before they show up looking for it.”
That was the easy part. The laptop was their first break in nailing Creed Thornton for the murder of Anna Mendoza. And Rick had no doubt the man was responsible.
A hotshot software developer with rich parents and even richer in-laws, Creed’s pampered life hit a snag when his maid turned up dead and pregnant with his child. Their explanation had been suicide, the poor girl so distraught that he refused to divorce his wife, she’d hanged herself in her own bathroom. But too many sides to that scenario weren’t sitting well, most notably the smug composure of a man certain he was about to get away with murder.
Rick and Kevin had been chasing dead ends for months, every lead extinguished, every road ending up nowhere. In recent weeks, even Rick had come close to admitting that Paolo and Lucy Mendoza might never get justice for their daughter.
However, Creed had made the one mistake that could cost him his freedom. He wanted his evidence back. And he wanted it so badly that he’d sent his team of lawyers on an expensive and politically charged rampage to get every item they’d seized from his condo before week’s end.
On news of that, Rick had taken inventory and come up with the item that seemed to be garnering too much attention—Creed’s laptop. The urgency didn’t make sense. The man was a software engineer with a dozen computers at his disposal. So why the sudden need to have this one—and fast? The crime lab found it clean, but Creed’s company specialized in security encryption. He would be just cocky enough to test his programs in the most ultimate way—with his life.
And now, suddenly it was critical he get his hands back on the computer. Could it be second thoughts? Did he have newfound reservations that with an expert, his secrets might not be as safe as he’d presumed?
Rick wasn’t sure, but he intended to find out.
“We’d all like to know what you’re up to,” Kevin said.
“Easy. Creed wants his laptop back and I want to know why the sudden interest.”
Kevin rubbed his chin like he always did when he was thinking, taking the look in Rick’s eyes and coming up with the same conclusion. It was one reason Rick appreciated Kevin more than he had any other partner during his fifteen years on the force.
Though only two years in homicide and still learning the ropes, Kevin caught on fast. He was sharp and meticulous, sniffing out facts while Rick shot from the cuff and followed hunches. Their opposing styles seemed to strike a balance that worked well for both Rick and the force. Now they just needed it to work well for this murder case, too.
“Has Smarmy Friend found anything yet?” Kevin asked.
“He doesn’t have the laptop yet. I’m meeting him this morning at ten to drop it off.” Then Rick continued the search for his cell phone. Scratching his head, he said, “Call my number,” and when Kevin did they heard only the ring from his receiver.
“I must have left it in the car,” he murmured before heading downstairs to the garage.
And when he reached the bottom of the stairs and opened the side door, he found himself standing in an empty room.
Kevin came up behind him and stated the obvious. “Your car’s not here.”
That explained where his keys were, and since he was now sure he’d tossed them on the coffee table next to his cell phone, he knew it was gone, too.
“I take it you didn’t lend it to your lady friend,” Kevin said.
“Not voluntarily.”
A sour taste hit Rick’s tongue and it wasn’t the bad coffee. Upstairs they began searching his house, looking for anything else missing and checking the doors