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Had he been spotted?

His concern proved unnecessary. Glancing around the van, he saw that Ms. Cody Security had her hands full with Lefevre.

“What’re you doing here?” the detective demanded.

8

Nuts, Campbell thought. She’d known this trip would be risky, that’s why she had arranged to wait out here. But to be caught so fast…

One of the few friends she had left in the LPD had been transferred to District C. Campbell hoped she could convince her to share what was known regarding Stacie Holms. She thought it would help her work with the Saunders family. Politics. Networking. She hated everything that stood for, but it was the technique du jour and it was her only other brainstorm since Bryce Tyndell remained WU like Maida—whereabouts unknown in Cody speak—having yet to show up at the office or to respond to her page.

She’d changed for this meeting thinking she would meet her friend at the mall, and wore the typical shopper attire—jeans, T-shirt and jogging shoes. Then she learned Taneeka’s car was being serviced and she would have to pick her up at the station. Campbell had hoped to meet her in the back parking area where there were few windows and fewer vehicles, but it was impossible to hide her Cody Security vehicle—especially from someone like the cop charging across the parking lot.

“I said hold it!”

Intimidating as Lefevre’s voice could be, it was the hard slap on the truck’s hood that had Campbell hitting the brakes. With sickly certainty, she knew her streak of bad luck had yet to change.

Detective Alan Lefevre stepped over to the driver’s window. All she knew of the big-boned and loudmouthed detective was that he’d been Greg’s distant relation through marriage. The scene he’d caused at Greg’s funeral made him a permanent part of that bad dream. Of all the people to run into…

“I said, why are you here?” he demanded.

“That’s none of your business.”

“You? On these premises? Guess again.”

She had a choice—create a bigger scene or cut her losses and opt for a hasty retreat. As loud as he was, if she drug this out, they were bound to attract an audience. Yet she didn’t quit easily.

“I don’t want any trouble. Five minutes is all I need.”

“To do what? Everyone knows you have an ax to grind.”

“If I did, I’d be at District B.”

“We’ve had transfers and realignments, something I suspect you know.”

She refused to respond to that. Getting a friend in trouble wasn’t an option, and accepting that she’d made a mistake in coming here, she let off the brake and jammed her foot onto the accelerator.

The launch into street traffic was almost as unnerving as running into Lefevre, and she barely missed a FedEx truck while, in her rearview mirror, she saw smoke rising as a minivan struggled not to rear-end her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gripping the steering wheel. “I’m sorry!”

Damn Lefevre. How was she supposed to know he’d been transferred? What were the odds that he would be leaving the building as she was arriving?

9

As soon as the coast was clear, Blade joined Lefevre in the parking lot and asked, “What was that all about?”

“You tell me.”

He wasn’t admitting to anything until he had to. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t decide whether you were hoping she’d shoot me or if you were hiding from her.”

Blade knew better than to respond to either part of that observation. “You know, the less I’m recognized around here the safer it is for everyone.”

“It looked like you were hiding from her.”

“Never met her before. What’s your beef with the woman anyway?” He knew Lefevre usually salivated over the long-legged type, and Ms. Cody Security had the figure to be a Las Vegas showgirl.

Beneath his neatly trimmed mustache, Lefevre’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “Campbell Cody is poison. Got one of our guys killed—her partner. My wife’s stepbrother. It happened a short while before you arrived, though people talk about it even today.”

“Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing something.” But back then he’d been preoccupied with his own misery, and with learning a new job. What intrigued him was the intensity of Lefevre’s anger. Maybe Campbell Cody deserved it, but for someone who didn’t work too hard at hiding that he cheated on his wife, Alan Lefevre seemed somewhat overzealous. “So, she was a cop?”

“Please. More like a bitch with a gun. Greg found out the hard way.”

“Her partner?”

“Yeah, Greg Gerrard.”

“What happened?”

“She didn’t watch his back when she should have. She turned chicken, that’s what she did. Talks a tough game, but I wouldn’t trust her to cover my ass against a toddler with a water pistol.”

Blade thought about last night. She’d seemed pretty dedicated to him. “Why do you suppose she was here? If she knows she’s not welcome, she took a big risk.”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Only—” he checked his watch and made a face “—not now.”

“Yeah, I have to get moving, too.”

“You owe me.”

Lefevre pointed a finger at him as though punctuating the statement made it written in stone. Blade merely raised his hand, letting him wonder if the gesture signaled an agreement or farewell. It didn’t matter; the detective was in his issued sedan and gunning the engine. Seconds later, with tires spinning on the still-damp asphalt, he pulled into traffic and sped away.

Grateful for the reprieve from the inquisition, Blade started for his truck, only to see a white SUV with a light bar on top pull around the corner of the building. Impressed with Campbell Cody’s nerve, Blade ducked behind the van nearest his truck and watched her pause while a young African-American woman in uniform ran out of the building and got into her truck.

10

As the petite officer hurried around the front of the truck and climbed in on the passenger’s side of the SUV, Campbell watched for onlookers. Visibility on this side of the building was minimal, but she thought she’d glimpsed movement by a van parked a few vehicles away. Right then a sheet of cardboard came tumbling across the asphalt and she decided it must have been debris tossed by the wind that spooked her. Even so, the instant she heard the passenger door slam she hit the accelerator.

“I thought I’d missed you.” Taneeka Rawley shivered and stretched her hands toward the vents blowing warm air. She wore no jacket over her uniform, exposing her elegant neck and delicate ears to the bitter bite of the wind. “I saw Romeo confronting you and hoped you wouldn’t be so rattled that you wouldn’t circle the block and try again. That’s why I didn’t take time to dash back to my office and grab my jacket.”

Campbell flipped the fan to high, then darted across traffic to head in the opposite direction of where Lefevre had gone. “Sorry about that.” She remained shaken from the experience, and resentful that Lefevre thought he had a right to confront her. “I should have known that oversexed yahoo wasn’t out doing what they pay him to do.”

“At least his taste in his victims is improving,” Taneeka said with a wicked grin. “I swear, I don’t know how his wife stands him.”

“Who knows that she does?” Campbell had met Beverly Lefevre once at a baby shower for another of Greg’s relations. She wanted to believe the attractive and intelligent woman, who worked in a commercial bank’s trust department, was too smart to be easily conned for too long. “Maybe she’s the city’s next time bomb. People like Lefevre always think they’re immune from repercussions, especially when it comes to paying for their behavior.”

“Campbell…I would have come to you sooner if you’d given the word. I do know where your office is.”

Despite the gentle tone, Taneeka’s words retained a rebuke for Campbell’s self-isolation. She was one of the few who had the right. They’d met in college and had gone through the academy together.

“You don’t need to be seen there any more than I needed to be spotted by someone from our old division,” Campbell replied. “It’s enough to have to drive this thing.”

“Remember our first year on the force and the guy who asked if you were trying to be the Longview version of Dirty Harry?”

“Paulk. His glasses were so thick, I doubt he knew if he was watching Clint Eastwood or Miami Vice.”

“But man, did he know the recipes for explosives. Scary. So where is that sexy car of yours?”

Campbell had a moment of nostalgia over the classic Shelby Mustang that she would wash and wax every week. “In California, or so I was told. I sold it to pay my legal fees. You never want to find out how much money it costs to stop people from trying to suck the last ounce of blood out of you.”

“All the more reason for you to have called.”

The soft words forced Campbell to take a breath to ease the tightening in her throat. People she would have bet the Shelby on for support had turned MIA faster than she could dial 911. But not Taneeka—Taneeka, who had her hands full with her family and paid her own price for being a solid friend.

Spotting something she didn’t like, she made an abrupt turn at the first opportunity. “What I want is for you to make Internal Affairs someday and nail the Lefevres of the world to a wall.”

“Consider it an IOU. So what’s happened?”

This was why they had hit it off so well. Both valued action and getting results over brooding and bitterness. “I think a friend is missing,” Campbell began. Careful to avoid prejudice or innuendo, she went on to explain last night’s strange occurrences, all the while maneuvering through traffic.

It wasn’t long before Taneeka was twisting in her seat. Only her seat belt kept her from doing a full ninety-degree turn, but she did manage to tuck a leg under the other. “Are you serious? Lightning? Girl, you are living under one dark cloud.”

“Won’t argue with you there.” A cloud that had a wide reach. If life hadn’t taken the nosedive it did, she would now be living in a four-bedroom house with a cheery yellow kitchen, a hot tub on the patio and perusing wallpaper books for the nursery. Or maybe not. At the end, all had not been bliss between her and Greg. The night he’d been killed, she’d stopped kidding herself and told him that they needed to have a serious talk.

“I know the story about Maida sounds vague and incidental,” she said, forcing herself to get back on track. “But I swear she would have stopped and asked me for advice if she’d had some problem.”

Taneeka nodded acceptance. “Then again, older folks can act pretty strange at times. My great-aunt and grandmother got into a shouting match last Sunday that had dogs three blocks away howling—at six in the morning. You know what it was about? A stupid shawl that showed up in the drawer under the one where Aunt Petty usually puts her scarves and stuff.”

Campbell remembered other tales about the infamous Petty, named in error when her mother misspelled Pretty to the midwife filling out the birth certificate. “Sounds like you still have your hands full over there.”

“Girl, the one thing worse than a house full of women is a house full of southern women.”

Campbell enjoyed Taneeka’s rich barbecue-sauce drawl, but knew there was a message under the humor. Jokes aside, she remained passionately protective of her family. “I hear you. My father said something similar about Maida. And I understand how subtle the early stages of dementia can be, but those conditions don’t occur overnight. Not to this extent.”

“Tell you what…as soon as I get back, I can check to see if she or her car shows up on the computer anywhere.”

“Yancy has notified the state police. They’ll put her license and plate number in the NCIC system. If there is anything, he should know by now.”

“Good. So why am I here?”

Campbell dealt with an inner pinch. Her friend hadn’t asked, “How can I help?”

“I’m glad to see you’re still on top of your game.” In school, one instructor had suggested that Taneeka consider a career in Vice because of her ability to follow the thinking patterns of the devious.

“Don’t get me wrong. I understand you’re concerned about a senior citizen under your care, who happens to be a friend. Now answer the question.”

Campbell stopped for a traffic signal. “The Holms murder. The kid was a schoolmate of Debra Saunders, Maida’s granddaughter.”

“Why am I surprised? Were the girls close?”

“I’m trying to figure that out. I was at the Saunderses’ house this morning to ask what they knew about Maida and I saw their kid learn about the shooting on TV. If they’re not pals, they have to at least share a few of the same classes.”

Taneeka’s fine features hardened as she shifted into her own no-nonsense mode. “You think there could be a connection because your friend and the Holms kid drove the same car?”

“Hey, I didn’t say—” Campbell paused, hearing what fatigue and pain were doing to her control. “My goal is to find Maida alive and well sitting at a bus station or something. Troubling as that would be, I’d take it over any of the other options. What I was hoping you’d do is tell me what you have on the Holms case. I have to return to the Saunderses’ and hopefully get them to let me into Maida’s house.”

“You don’t want to do that.”

“I feel if I can look around, I’ll get a clue as to what happened.”

Taneeka shot another studious glance her way. “You know it that well?”

“I’m over there at least once a week, so if you’re worried about my DNA being left behind, it’s too late.” Maybe it was because she’d missed out knowing her grandparents, but she liked to help Maida with errands and projects, and to listen to her talk about her youth and her views on life in general. “I know what you’re going to say—it’s a pretty good guess that Dwayne Saunders is going to try to blame Cody Security for his mother’s disappearance, making me the last person he’d want in her house. So tell me, how hard I can push back?”

“I don’t follow,” Taneeka replied.

“If it looks like the LPD will wrap up this case fast and no one else from the school is involved, I can appeal for the Saunderses’ full attention. If they’re pulled in two different directions because their daughter lost a close friend and the police are hounding her for information and possible leads, it’s going to make my job even tougher.”

Tankeeka looked pensive. “Please say you’re not asking for—”

“No privileged information. Absolutely not.”

“Well, it’ll be this evening or maybe even tomorrow before Detective Snow gives our shift the next briefing—unless he suddenly brings in someone. Don’t you think Mr. Saunders will call the sheriff himself and then this will be out of your hands?”

“One would hope, only he didn’t sound all that concerned to me when we spoke a while ago. Either way, I’m going to do what I can until I find her.”

“All right, I’m in, too,” Taneeka replied. “Hey, have you got a picture of her?”

“Down on the console.” The wallet-size photo had an index card attached with some personal information on Maida.

“Aw,” Taneeka said softly. “She’s sweet. She looks like she should be on a jar of pasta or something.”

“Make that chicken soup. She’s half Jewish, on her mother’s side. Her first husband was a Southern Baptist, though. Then twenty years ago, after his death, she married Arthur Livingstone. He passed four years ago.”

Taneeka read the data on the card. “Well, you’d better drive me back. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Although grateful, Campbell took her indebtedness seriously. “I know it’s still early, but I was going to buy you lunch.”

“Honey, I saw how you froze when we passed that patrol car a minute ago,” Taneeka drawled. “And to be honest, I’d rather paint a bull’s-eye on my back than be seen in this rolling advertisement for abuse. Let me take a rain check. And hopefully we’ll have something to celebrate.”

Relieved, Campbell cut a U-turn in a bank parking lot. “I like the sound of that.”

The change of plans turned out to be a blessing. It was just as well that Campbell’s offer for lunch didn’t work out. Only minutes after saying goodbye to Taneeka, she heard her pager sound. She checked the display window and the brief surge of hope she’d felt after her visit with her friend vanished. Her father—sounding as serious as she’d ever heard him—was advising that he had news and didn’t want to tell her over the radio or phone.

11

Campbell grabbed her phone and punched the number one on the keypad. As soon as she heard Yancy’s voice, she asked, “What’s happened?”

“You’d better get back here pronto.”

“Hang the security concerns, what’s going on?”

“Maida’s Dwayne connected with Administration at Maple Trails,” Yancy replied. “Unfortunately, he spoke with the wrong person, and when that ditz at the front desk said she didn’t know anything about the situation with his mother, he blew a gasket. He’s filing a complaint against us for not keeping them informed.”

“Are we surprised?” However, Campbell was relieved that she’d left the voice messages for Bryce, despite not wanting to leave that kind of sensitive and worrisome information on a machine. “So where’s Bryce?”

“Barbie said he’s down inspecting the marina and the rest of the area. You know him, he’ll leave us all hanging while he makes the village believe he’s on top of things. Self-serving son of a—”

“I’m almost at the turnoff to go there. I’ll see what damage control I can do.” Campbell didn’t like the tension in her father’s voice. With things going from bad to worse, they couldn’t risk him having a relapse.

“I thought you were there.”

“When I learned Bryce still hadn’t arrived, I got another brainstorm and went to check into that.”

“That’s uncomfortably vague.”

“It’s the best I can do at the moment. Like you, this isn’t something I want to discuss over the wires.”

“How convenient.”

It reassured Campbell to hear a bit of the grump return to Yancy’s tone. “Would it help to know that I culled a resource?”

“It helps knowing you have any left.”

“Try to lie down for an hour,” she said as she entered the village. “I’ll bring lunch as soon as I finish with Bryce.”

When she pulled up to the booth, she greeted Kelsey with “I heard Bryce has arrived?”

Mischief lit the sunny blonde’s eyes. “Prepare yourself. Mr. Executive is minus a tie for the first time that I can remember, and he’s hiding those bedroom-brown eyes behind the darkest shades. I’ll bet you a bottle of tequila that he’s got a hickey under that turtleneck.”

There were too many Lefevres and Tyndells in the world for Campbell’s taste. “Remind me to suggest we wear gloves from now on whenever going into the administration building.”

“That’s an idea that’s bound to get you a standing ovation.”

Campbell nodded to the fork in the road. “Last I heard, he was down by the marina.”

“He’s moved from there. During our last radio check the boys said he’s schmoozing with the chairman of the Residents’ Committee.”

That would be Charles Denby, who also lived on the east side of the lake. “No doubt his house is one of those damaged.” Campbell suspected his insider knowledge of the job list allowed him to be at the top of the repair schedule. “Thanks for the warning. I’d like the minimum audience possible.”

“Interesting. Planning to go after a few jugulars?”

“Mostly in my mind. Barbie didn’t relay my calls this morning regarding Maida. Maida’s son now thinks we’re trying to hide something and is filing a complaint citing negligence—which is just the kind of opportunity Tyndell is looking for to replace us.”

“May all his children grow up to be rap enthusiasts.”

The only thing that kept Campbell from smiling was thinking of Bryce as a father. “To add to the cheery atmosphere, we’re trying to figure out whether or not he received my secondary emergency messages on his pager.”

“Gotcha. You’re saying staff needs to be aiming for sainthood at this point.”

“Oh, at the least.” Adding a droll salute, Campbell continued on.

Traffic remained light despite the approach of the lunch hour. Some residents were busy picking up debris, while others stood with neighbors, apparently discussing their night of interrupted rest. She waved frequently, but kept on course.

Bryce Tyndell’s black Lexus stood where Kelsey said it would be—in Denby’s driveway. Campbell pulled in and parked behind the glistening sedan, leaving just enough room for the GM of Maple Trails to maneuver around her—if he wanted to risk flattening Denby’s pampered azaleas. She found Bryce and Charles in the back studying the torn deck awning. One glance told her it wouldn’t be wise to ask why Charles hadn’t rolled it up last night when the first storm warnings were announced.

“Ah. Here’s our girl,” Bryce said upon spotting her. “We thought you went home for a nap.”

“Having been up for over twenty-four hours, who would blame me?” she replied in the same conversational tone. To Denby she added, “I’m sorry to see you caught a bad edge of that wind. Ike came by here after the worst of the storm passed and checked to make sure nothing inside was exposed to rain and that doors were secure. I suppose you were in another part of the house or back in bed by then.”

The retired golf pro with the eternal tan responded with a diplomat’s smoothness. “I saw someone out there. Bryce, did I mention seeing a guard? Remind me to note Security’s diligence at our next meeting with management. Campbell, do tell your people we’re grateful.”

“I’ll be happy to,” she replied. “Are you aware your neighbors beyond the point were hit even harder? Have you inspected the area, Bryce? Aside from the phone messages, we left Barbie a report taped to the office door advising you of the need to call your contract people first thing. There are entire windows and doors blown out over there. We also reminded her to notify those living out of town so they can advise their insurance companies.”

Bryce adjusted his aviator sunglasses. “As a matter of fact, I’m heading to that area next.”

On his way to daydreaming about managing a high-rise hotel in a happening town like Las Vegas or Los Angeles, Campbell wondered what it would take to make him admit where he was last night? “There’s more I need to go over with you. Maybe my direct messages didn’t get through?”

He made a show of pulling his pager off his belt. “It seems to be working.”

Campbell was willing to allow him to save face in front of Denby, but not at the expense of the company. “If you’re finished here, I could fill you in as we move on?”

“You’re the boss.” While he shook hands with Charles Denby, his smile was stiff. “We’ll get this cleaned up in no time. Let me know if you’re not satisfied with the results.”

Once out of earshot, Bryce said to her, “Please don’t do that again.”

“What? Refuse to let you make Cody Security look incompetent to cover your own negligence?”

“That’s a strong term for what happened. I swear I haven’t received any messages.”

He sounded sincere enough, but Campbell had seen him burn Cody people before. “Management never gets to play victim, Bryce. Switch phone systems—or Barbies. I do not know what’s going on in your life, nor do I care, but you will not save your reputation at the expense of ours. Trust me, we can document everything that happened last night. Can you?”

Suddenly he looked as if he wanted to hurt something. Campbell hoped he was smart enough to aim his temper at his Lexus.

Surprisingly, as quickly as the anger appeared, it vanished. “Tell me about your biggest problem. The resident you called Barbara about—”

“I called you. And the lady’s name is Maida Livingstone. She lives at 577 Dogwood Lane and last night she raced out of here faster than you can think of a reason why she should have.”

“Why didn’t you call the sheriff right then?”

Because she’d had the lightning encounter. Because she knew how overwhelmed they would be from problems due to the storm and how they would treat a “what if?” call like that—all reasons her father echoed. Because she’d panicked and dashed to the hospital to check on that shooting victim she’d heard about on the police scanner. Because Yancy had convinced her that she was nuts and that Maida would return and explain all. None of this was anything she wanted to go over again with Bryce.

“This isn’t a prison, it’s not a mental institution,” she said with the same give-nothing-away expression she would use with a reporter. “People have the right to leave, even at an unusual hour, even in a manner we might not like.”

Bryce drew his well-formed upper lip between his teeth. “All right. What do you recommend we do?”

“I’d like you to call Dwayne Saunders and assure him that we have contacted the sheriff. She and her car are already on the NCIC system.”

“That’s it?”

“We’ve made some other calls.”

“To whom?”

“The day you give me your networking list, I’ll give you mine. What you can assure Mr. Saunders of is that when the car has been spotted anywhere, we’ll hear about it. Also, we’ll know of any admissions to the hospital.”

“Okay. So our ass is covered. What else are you leading to?”

Campbell knew she had to ask, although he wasn’t in the right mood to hear the question. “I’d like to check inside her house.”

“No. Absolutely not. If her car was on the premises, that would be different, but we’re not going to risk setting off her son any more than he already is.”

Campbell knew not to argue at this stage. “Then I’ll follow you up the road to look at the other residences and reset alarms if necessary.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you staying beyond your shift. You do look tired.”

“I’ll head for home as soon as I’m assured things are as set here as they can be.”

That unfailing politeness was their code for the next hour. By the time Campbell returned to the front gate, she was operating on automatic pilot.

“What a morning,” she said, entering the gate-house. She needed to make a photocopy of her notes for Kelsey and the front office.

Kelsey rose from behind the desk. “I’ve got one more headache for you, or rather for Maintenance. Bobby Waldrop located a big branch down on the service road behind Dogwood Lane.”

The street name won Campbell’s full attention and she frowned at the sheet. “I was there earlier. I didn’t see anything like that.”

“It’s about four houses up from Maida’s place. Here’s the map he drew. It wouldn’t have been visible from where you were due to the curve in the road and the privacy fence the Leytons put up last summer. Bobby was able to push the limb aside to give access if there’s an emergency. The bad news is the limb apparently clipped the back fence as it fell.”

That was definitely bad news. The perimeter fence also provided privacy as well as security, because the county road was not fifty feet beyond it. “I’m going to bypass Barbie and go directly to Maintenance with this,” Campbell said. “That repair has to be given as much priority as anything else. Once word gets around that we don’t know where Maida is, the folks in that area are going to get nervous. Having a gaping hole in the security fence isn’t going to reassure them.”

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