Fade to Black Page 5

  “No idea.” Christian shook his head and tried to take possession of the portable laptop.

  “Not on your life. You have got to take some typing lessons.” Zach pulled the computer back his direction and completed the task of filling in the blank spaces in the report. After he’d put in his request for six additional officers, he leaned back behind the driver’s seat and began the next job – waiting till the backup arrived. “And what if there isn’t alcohol?”

  “I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t contact us if she didn’t know we’d have a reason to break up the party.”

  “You seem fairly certain about Johnston.” Zach teased his partner. “You’re not that easy to impress. Want me to find out if she’s seeing someone?” The car’s radio sprang to life as their dispatcher, Donna’s voice spoke over the airways calling out their request for additional officers at the mill.

  “No. Definitely not interested,” Christian said.

  “Then why are you suddenly so confident in her abilities?” Zach smirked in his partner’s direction. God knew he’d spent enough time thinking about Rory’s abilities. One look at her long legs with more than a little hint of skin showing beneath tonight’s chosen mini-skirt, and he was having a hard time focusing on anything other than how tight his slacks suddenly seemed. The way she slid in and out of character, he could only imagine that she could think of a few ways to put her theatrical talents to very good use.

  “You still with me?”

  Zach cleared his throat and repositioned himself on the seat, thankful the computer still covered most of his lap. If Christian had been able to see his pants, he would have guessed that his partner was definitely not with him. “Yeah. But you seem pretty sure about Johnston. Why?”

  Christian looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t know what she was doing. She seems talented.”

  Talented. Zach raised an eyebrow at his partner. “Sure you’re not interested. Just keep telling yourself that.” He slapped Christian’s arm as the first patrol car began to roll down the street. Peytonville might have been less than half the size of El Paso, but at least that meant response times when an officer required help were respectable.

  “What’s up?” Officer Jake Mueller strode to the side of their unmarked car.

  “Back to school party’s in full swing. We have a tip that there’s underage drinking.”

  “And when isn’t there?” Officer Hart looked less than impressed at being summoned at this time of a Saturday evening. “Last year, you couldn’t go a weekend without someone getting wasted down here. I had ten of my frat brothers at my apartment, and I had to leave.”

  “Complain to someone who cares.” Zach stood tall, emphasizing the three inches he had on the rookie officer. “That was before we had seven dead college students on our hands.” He waited for his words to sink in as other officers approached the side of his car. “ID everyone. If they’re underage, we’re taking them in.”

  “Everyone?” Mueller shook his head in disbelief. “We’re going to need more cars.” The sounds of the party drifted up from the woods below. Even without being able to see the partygoers, it was clear that they weren’t going to fit everyone in five squad cars.

  “We’ve got a van on the way.”

  Zach looked around at his men. He hadn’t been in charge of a bust since his recent promotion, but he’d run more impromptu meetings like this than he cared to count at his former station. “We go in. Stay calm. ID everyone, and then we’ll take them back to the station for processing. Understood?”

  “Dean Howard’s not going to be thrilled with us.”

  “He’ll like it less if we’re on the nightly news about another dead kid.” Zach looked at Hart without blinking. “Do you want in on this or are you asking to be transferred out of narcotics?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then let’s roll.”

  • • •

  “You look thirsty.” A dark haired young man nudged his way past Preston and pressed a red plastic Solo cup into Rory’s hand.

  “Do I?” She giggled as she took hold of the glass and sipped at the warm beer. At her last school, they’d at least had the decency to keep the beer cold. Trying not to cringe, she wondered how anyone could actually be having a good time. Of course, since most of the crowd was on their third drink by now, she didn’t think they really noticed any longer.

  Off to her right, a girl who couldn’t be more than nineteen stood with her back to a tree twice her size as a senior unbuttoned her blouse with his teeth. Rory might be impressed at his prowess if she weren’t so sickened by the fact the girl obviously had no idea what was going on. It took every ounce of her self-control to not go break the pair up. If his lips went much closer to the girl’s black lace bra, Rory was going to have to find a way – without compromising her cover story. What the hell was taking Christian and Zach so long? She already choked down two drinks. The party had to have been going for at least an hour and a half by now. If she had to keep drinking, she’d soon be crossing what even she could tolerate.

  “Ouch!”

  “Hey, stop it!” The girl was less drunk than Rory’d estimated. The frisky senior now stood on the edge of the clearing with the remainder of the girl’s beer dripping from his tawny brown hair.

  “Don’t mind J.C.” Rory’s current companion nodded to the pair involved in the outburst. “He’s not overly smooth with the ladies.” He adjusted his popped pink collar as he took a step closer to her.

  “And I suppose you are?” She’d set her flirting systems to high.

  “I know I am.” He gave her a self-depreciating grin. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “Probably not.” She tilted her head and nodded, letting her natural Southern drawl seep into her speech. “I just transferred here.”

  “And you already found The Mill? Impressive. You work fast.”

  He had no idea. Rory ran a fingertip down his arm. “I’m pretty sure I’m rooming with the school’s social director.” She waved in Allie’s direction with her cup.

  “I’d heard she got a new roommate at the last minute. My condolences.”

  “She’s not that bad.”

  “You haven’t shared a room on a Saturday night after a party yet, have you?” He chugged the last of his drink. “Let’s just say that you’re going to want a list of places other than your dorm room to crash unless you’re into that kind of thing.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Feel free to call me first.”

  “Ahh.” Rory didn’t have to pretend to be embarrassed. She could feel the telltale warmth of her cheeks blushing. “But I don’t even know your name.”

  “Justin.” He took hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Justin Peña.”

  “Nice to meet you Justin.” She turned as Allie’s laughter carried over the noise from the rest of the crowd. “Somehow, I think I might be taking you up on your offer.”

  Justin circled her like a panther studying its prey for its most vulnerable point. He touched a lock of her hair. “You didn’t go for a swim?”

  “I’m not too fond of the water.” Rory answered honestly.

  “Well, that’s a shame.” Justin eyed the neckline of her blouse. “I’ll bet you can work a swimsuit.” He let out a long breath, and Rory was almost knocked over by the overwhelming smell of beer. “Maybe next time.”

  “I doubt it.” Rory had no desire to explain why she didn’t want to go into the water. That story was personal. If she mixed too much of her real life in with her cover story, she risked compromising both.

  “Way to go, Justin. Annoying the ladies from the very first time you meet them. Let a professor show you how it’s done.” A surprisingly familiar voice came from behind Rory.

  “Pretty sure you’re actually a
grad student.” Justin countered, visibly annoyed.

  “Close enough. Well, who do we have here?” An older student in a starched button down white shirt came to stand at Justin’s side. This time, Rory didn’t need an introduction. She’d remember Gabriel Figueroa anywhere. He’d performed with her in Summer of Love. That was almost three years ago, though. She was a brown-eyed brunette back then, and he spent most of his time fixated on trying to upstage the actor who earned the lead role. Surely he wouldn’t recognize her – not with the effort she’d gone through to conceal her appearance. If her work on this case was compromised because of Gabriel … she’d really rather not think about it.

  As arrogant as he was tall, Gabriel had joined the tour with the misplaced self-confidence common in small town divas. He was the kid who’d never been turned down for a principal role. He’d had the lead in all his high school performances … and getting slapped with being cast as a member of the ensemble cast in an off-Broadway tour hadn’t set well with him. Sullen and moody, he’d spent most of the time in the dressing room he shared with the other minor members of the cast. She prayed that he didn’t recognize her since she’d been forced to drop out of the tour in Boston shortly after he joined the touring company. He had to be at least twenty-five by now. What was he doing here of all places?

  Justin appeared as annoyed to see the graduate student as Rory was. “What are you doing here, Gabe?” Rory fought back a wave of laughter as Justin seemed to read her mind. Maybe she was more drunk than she thought. She leaned down and placed the cup on a fallen tree trunk. Fitting in was one thing. Actually getting drunk led to mistakes … people died when an undercover officer made a mistake.

  “Even grad students deserve to cut loose sometimes.” Gabriel gave her an appreciative grin. His eyes stayed fixed on the necklace that dangled against the black lace of her camisole.

  “Especially if they’re working for Maxwell.” Justin snorted. “I didn’t think you were ever going to finish taking inventory in the prop room last semester.”

  A bright light cut into the crowd. “Everybody stay where you are.” A wall of six of Peytonville’s police officers approached from the dirt path leading from the main road.

  “Just stay put. Stay calm. Be ready to show your ID when we ask for it.” Zach flashed his badge to reinforce his words.

  “Come on, let’s see it.” A very young officer approached a student who Rory identified as one of the linebackers on the football team – not the best decision. The football player towered over the officer by at least a foot, and the police officer compensated by trying to intimidate him with little success. The smaller man looked like a character in a cartoon as he prodded the taller man’s chest with his index finger. “Hurry up.”

  Off to her right, another officer had a freshman pinned against a picnic table. Tall and blond, but still much younger than most of the men Rory had worked with, this officer was much better at frightening his suspects. “I need your ID.”

  So nervous his hands began to shake, the poor guy dropped his wallet, spilling credit cards, cash, and his ID in the mud.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” Tall, blond, and definite jerk material grabbed hold of the student’s wallet. “Eighteen. Looks like you get to be calling Mama soon.”

  All around her, Rory watched as relieved students tucked wallets back into their pockets and bags while a sizable number of under-aged partygoers stood next to the police van with their wrists restrained behind their backs. Waiting her turn with one of the officers making their way through the densely packed crowd, she stood on tiptoe to seek out Allie.

  “Let’s see it, sweetie.” A hand caught her shoulder and almost knocked her off balance as it spun her in a half circle. “Let’s see your driver’s license.”

  “I … don’t have my driver’s license with me.” Rory stammered.

  “Driving without a license and drunk too?” The officer continued his pattern of overly aggressive behavior as he brought his face within an inch of hers. “I can smell the beer from here.” If he could smell the alcohol on her breath over the stench of his cloud of cheap cologne, then she’d really overdone it when she’d deliberately spilled half a glass on her blouse earlier in the evening.

  Rory shook her head violently. “No. You don’t understand. I didn’t drive.”

  “Sure you didn’t.” He didn’t look convinced. “Convenient that you don’t have your ID. What are you? Eighteen? Nineteen?” Without even waiting for a full answer, he began to dig into his pocket.

  “And I’m 21.”

  “Too bad you can’t prove it.” His fingers closed on her upper arm and he whipped her around. She took a deep breath as panic began to set in as the cool plastic restraints closed on her wrist. He tugged it too tight, and she could tell the restraint was biting into the faint scars she had on each wrist.

  “But really, I’m old enough.” Using the panic that erupted every time she’d been handcuffed in the past year, she twisted against his over-tight grip. “That’s really tight, can you loosen it a little?”

  “Should have thought of that before you started drinking.” He said with a smirk before he shoved her lower back to propel her forward. Caught off balance, she stepped into a patch of damp pine needles and her feet shot out from under her. Her teeth crashed together as her chin bounced off a rock partially buried in the midst of the trail. “Hey, you need to be more careful where you step.”

  “Watch it, Hart.” Christian yelled through the din of the crowd.

  “She’s wasted. She won’t remember anything tomorrow – except that she’s going to have quite a headache.” He kicked the back of her leg with his steel-toed boots to prod her up. “Just look at her trying to get up.”

  • • •

  Watching Rory flop on the ground like a fish out of water, Zach couldn’t stand by any longer. She may have asked to be arrested, but he doubted she’d planned to get roughed up. “That’s because she can’t use her hands.” Zach shoved Hart out of the way and pointed at the group next to the police van. “If you can’t treat a prisoner correctly, then you can go babysit.” He bent down and took hold of Rory’s arm and cautiously helped her to her feet, surprised to see her spitting blood as she faced him. The rise in the path brought her to almost eye-level, and he had to fight every protective instinct he had to not break her cover. Blood pouring from her lip and chin, she gasped when she tried to wipe it on her shoulder. “We might need to call an ambulance for this one.”

  Rory gave the slightest shake of her head.

  “Why? Because she fell?” Hart continued to be amused at his new authority.

  “She didn’t exactly fall.”

  “She tripped, right Jake?” Hart crossed his arms and laughed at his superior officer. “I’m sure my dad will understand if it goes to the city review board. It was dark. Accidents happen.”

  Rory took a step toward the van, and almost lost her balance again. Zach glanced down at her leg and saw more blood just below her knee.

  “Guess I should have stopped at two.” She launched into a fit of drunken laughter. “But that guy was really cute, and he said I looked thirsty.” She winked in the direction of the student she’d been standing closest to when the bust started.

  “Careful.” Taking as much of her weight as he could without being obvious, Zach half-carried her up the slippery slope. As Rory stepped into the beam of the headlights, Zach shook his head in dismay. She looked worse than he’d thought. Her chin could definitely use a stitch or two, but he’d been at the Peytonville department long enough to know that wasn’t going to happen until after she’d been released. He hadn’t worked with her very long, but he could tell her face was paler than normal. She was good at this. He couldn’t believe he’d doubted her when she’d first been assigned as his responsibility.

  “Can you loosen the restraints?” She’d sp
oken so softly, Zach almost thought he’d imagined it. But then he caught a glimpse of the panic in her eyes. With every passing second, her breathing sped up.

  “Sure.” He stepped behind her and took hold of her arms. He stared down in surprise at the faint purple scars circling each wrist like a bracelet. How had he missed them? Her bracelets and watch – no wonder she always wore them. What on earth had happened to her? He adjusted the restraints and made certain he could slide two fingers in each.

  “Thank you.” She didn’t meet his questioning look. This wasn’t the time to ask what caused the scars, but he was definitely going to find out.

  “Jake needs you down there.” Christian stepped to his side with a first aid kit in hand. “I’ll take her from here.”

  • • •

  Rory sat huddled on the steel bench, barely feeling the threadbare mattress beneath her in the holding cell. Drawing her legs almost up to her chin, she tried to ignore the worsening stiffness creeping through her fatigued body. Shifting from one worn spot to another, she’d been unable to find a completely lump-less area of the mattress. Since the bed was made of smooth stainless steal, she had the suspicion that the lumps on the mattress were put there on purpose.

  Her head pounded with each pulse of her heartbeat. Since she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the one-way glass outside the interrogation room, she knew she looked every bit as bad as she felt. If her former talent agent could see her now, he’d be taking her to the emergency room as fast as his sports car could handle the twisting Peytonville roads. Of course, she hadn’t seen Wendall since she’d pulled out of the tour in Boston. Now no one really cared if her face scarred.

  As she’d planned, she was the last partygoer left in the jail. Once, the holding cell was standing room only. Now, she was the only person left. She had no one to call. Her only family member was the person who’d shoved her into the police van earlier in the night. Christian knew exactly where she was. She just hoped he’d understand why she’d needed to call and ask for the bust so unexpectedly.