Edge Of Darkness (Arrow's Edge MC #2) - Freya Barker Page 0,30

got a name, and I like her.”

“She’s a pig.”

Oh, yeah. The old man is trying to get a rise out of me, using his preferred slang for cops.

“She’s a cop, yes.”

“She know you’re a boozer?” He takes great care spelling out the last word and I nod my response. “Can’t be very smart then.”

Christ, he gets on my last nerve. You’d think I’d be relieved he’s no longer on about my shortcomings, but that would be preferable to listening to him coming down on Lissie.

“She’s sharp as a tack. Why don’t you go back to picking on me?”

Surprisingly that shuts him up. At least for a beat or two.

“You like her.”

I drop my head back and raise my eyes to the ceiling, but my hands sign. “Yes. I like her.”

He draws my attention with a knock on the table.

“Never fucking thought I’d see the day.”

I have to dig deep, but there’s a compliment hidden in that statement.

When Momma walks back in the room a few minutes later, she’s all smiles. Even when she looks at me.

“Who are you?”

CHAPTER 11

Lissie

“JEFF LANSING.”

I look up from my computer screen when Ramirez walks in, a smug grin on his face.

“Who’s that?”

He tosses a sheet of paper on my table. The name he mentioned is printed at the top, with a picture depicting a guy—probably in his forties—underneath, along with a physical description.

“Professional engineer. I was finally able to get a hold of with that contact of Red’s in the developer’s office, Phil Becker. The guy insisted on meeting in Cortez.”

“Isn’t Arches Homes’ office in Monticello?”

“Yup. Turns out, he had a good reason not wanting to chance being seen with law enforcement.”

Immediately my interest is piqued. “Oh?”

“He’s nervous. He says he cautiously approached Lansing a couple of months back and discovered the man had his own misgivings about the project, but wasn’t ready to go into too many details. Then four weeks ago, he asked Becker to meet him at the site one night but never showed up. The company line was Lansing had received an unexpected opportunity he couldn’t pass up on a project in the United Arab Emirates. He tried getting information from the office but was shut down. Then he tried to do some digging on his own, only to discover Lansing seems to have vanished. He’s a little jumpy. Swears someone’s been following him and his work computer has been accessed. He spent the entire time looking over his shoulder.”

“He thinks Lansing is our victim?” I ask, almost eagerly. We’ve been struggling to get ahead on this case and I’m ready to sink my teeth into a good lead. Identifying the victim would go a long way in opening up this investigation.

“He does and we need to find a way to prove it.”

I turn to my computer and throw his name into the system. Half an hour later we have an address, a two-year-old Ford pickup truck registered to him, and the name of a sister in Las Vegas. Ten minutes after that we’re in Chief Benedetti’s office and have him caught up on the new information.

“Fancy a trip to Vegas?” He’s looking straight at me.

“Me? Not particularly.”

“Someone’s gotta go talk to the sister,” he responds with a shrug. “I have a contact in the police department, let me give him a call and see what they can do.”

I listen in on the conversation, mentally crossing my fingers. I have no desire to go to Vegas just now, life is getting exciting here in Durango.

The past two days have been crazy busy. I solved my first solo case—the assault. I finally got around to interviewing that witness, and her information helped ultimately catch the guy last night.

Unfortunately, my crazy hours also meant I didn’t get see a whole lot of Yuma. He wanted to cook me dinner—even went shopping—but there hasn’t been an opportunity yet. I have my mind set on tonight, so I really don’t want to be sent to Vegas.

“You’re in luck,” Benedetti says to me. “My buddy says he’ll swing by her address tonight and see if she’s home. He’ll bring a DNA swab, just in case.” I let out a relieved breath. “Now where are we on the concrete guys?”

“With the site still shut down, the crew’s been disbursed on other jobs,” Blackfoot informs him. “I’ll head out tomorrow.”

“Good.” Chief points his finger at Tony and me. “Tomorrow, one of you connect with our colleagues in Monticello. Get them up-to-date and let them know we’ll want to