Secure Location - By Beverly Long Page 0,49
Hand Up.”
“Slater would have had a key,” Cruz stated.
“What?” Meg asked.
“I’ve been focusing my attention on these four white men. One because of his jail record and three because their employment was terminated within the last year. But maybe it’s a white guy with a whole other agenda. I don’t want to be stupid and overlook somebody.”
Cruz had never been stupid. “It’s not Scott,” she said.
“Nobody gets a free pass, Meg. Nobody.”
She needed the free pass. “I’m going to bed,” she said. “It was nice to meet you,” she said, looking at Greta. “Thank you for coming to stay with me.”
“Do you want me to get Jana?” Cruz asked.
Meg didn’t want to disturb the little girl. She shook her head. “She can sleep with me.”
Five minutes later, she heard the doors and knew that Detective Myers and Greta had left. Seconds later, Cruz was standing at her door. “Sleeping?” he asked quietly.
She could pretend. “No,” she said.
He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. The lights were all off, with the exception of one dim light from the bathroom. His shape was visible but she couldn’t see the expression on his face. She could feel warmth roll off his big body.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I think so,” she lied. “I’m sorry about this, Cruz. Sorry that you got dragged into it and that it touched Jana. I never meant for that to happen.”
“It’s not your fault, Meg.”
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. What if it really was her fault? What if it had something to do with what had happened to Missy?
They sat there in the dark for a long moment. Finally, Cruz shifted. “Is there anything you haven’t told me, Meg?” he asked, his voice soft.
She swallowed hard. “Of course not,” she said. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But just a few minutes ago, right before Myers and Greta left, you had the strangest look on your face. Like you were thinking of something.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Look, Cruz, I’m really tired.” She rolled over, giving him her back.
And she didn’t start to cry until he’d left the room.
Chapter Fourteen
Early Monday morning, Cruz got Jana dressed and fed her breakfast in the hotel restaurant. She was barely finished with her pancakes when Elsa came to pick her up. It was a tearful reunion, on Elsa’s part. Jana was all smiles and gave Cruz a big kiss. He watched them drive away and then did something that he’d never expected to do—not in a hundred years. He initiated a background check on Meg.
He dialed and Sam answered on the fourth ring. “Vernelli,” he said, his voice rough.
“It’s almost eight o’clock your time, partner,” Cruz said. “Get your sorry self out of bed.”
Sam sighed. “Claire and I took the red-eye back from Omaha. She wanted to spring the news about the baby to her parents in person.”
Cruz had only met the Fontaines once, at Sam and Claire’s wedding. They’d been nice enough but rather reserved. “How’d that go?”
“Better than either of us might have expected.”
That was no doubt a good thing because if the Fontaines had given Claire even a moment of grief, Sam would have told them to stuff it and he’d have whisked his new bride away from Nebraska and back to Chicago. “How’s Claire feeling?”
“As long as I embrace my role of saltine cracker-bearing slave, it’s all good,” Sam said. “What’s going on with you? How’s Meg?” he asked, his tone careful.
Cruz understood the caution. Sam had lived through the death spiral that Cruz had started when Meg had suddenly announced she was leaving. “Meg’s okay. I mean, she looks great, she’s doing really well in her job, she...” Cruz couldn’t finish. He sucked in a breath. This was his best friend. “She’s in trouble, Sam. And I’m not sure she’s telling me the truth.”
There was silence on the other end.
Cruz barged on. “I need your help. I want to know everything about Margaret Mae Gunderson Montoya that there is to know. I’m not sure what’s important and what’s not, so don’t leave anything out.”
“Consider it done. I’ll be in touch.”
Cruz disconnected the call. When he’d talked to Myers the night before, the man had told him that the blood on Meg’s desk had been analyzed. The good news was that it wasn’t human. It was canine. But not from just one dog. Three dogs. The bastard had killed three dogs. They figured he’d somehow managed to collect the blood and