Cait tossed and turned all night worrying about Wally Dillon and thinking of what she could do to catch him without going against Officer Vanicheque’s warning or Detective Rook. Rook had become more than a police officer; she considered him a friend who had sacrificed family time by going beyond the call of duty to help her since she’d moved to Livermore.
She slipped out of bed and went through her morning ritual. While standing under the steaming shower, she thought about Calder Manning. He had his own agenda for Wally, one he refused to share with her or the police. I wonder if he knows Wally not only blames me for Hank’s death but that he also blames Manning’s family.
Niki sat on the carpet in the sun, tail thumping, while Cait dressed. When she went back in the bathroom to blow-dry her hair, she stared in the mirror at the puffy circles under her eyes and felt she’d aged since she’d inherited the estate. Her life as a cop put her in danger every day, but nothing like what she’d experienced in the past couple of months in Livermore. She slipped her cell in a pocket of her jeans and grabbed her keys and gun. “Time to go, Niki.”
Downstairs, she checked his food and water bowls.
“Already taken care of,” Marcus said from his office doorway.
“My God! Look at the clock—it’s eight-thirty! I couldn’t go to sleep last night, then when I finally did, I overslept.”
“My mom used to say sleeping in was time well spent, that it cleared your head.”
“Your mom is a wise woman.”
He showed her a large sketchpad. “When you have time, look at what Fumié came up with for your gift shop.”
Cait wasn’t in the mood to look at sketches, but what she saw interested her. “An English cottage. I love it.” She handed the pad back to him. “I’ll leave it in your and Fumié’s capable hands.” She opened a box of Cheerios and took a bowl from the cupboard. “I wish Manning would call and let me know when he’s coming.”
“I don’t expect him to.” Marcus bent over to rub Niki behind his ears. “Do you honestly think he can help, or does he just want to impress us with his credentials?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe a little of both.” She went to the refrigerator for milk.
Someone tapped on the back door.
“No one ever uses the front door.” When she opened it, Detective Rook stood on the step.
“Have you heard from Manning this morning?” he asked.
“No.”
“What was he driving?”
“A white Toyota rental. Why?”
Rook pulled a slip of paper from his jacket pocket. “I went by Pagan Alley at seven-thirty. A white Toyota sedan was in front of the garage.”
Cait’s body tensed. “You think that’s where Wally lives?”
“Who knows, but it was Manning’s car.”
“You drove in for a closer look?”
He cocked his eyebrow with a half smile.
“If I’d done that without backup, I would have been called in and dressed down. But then, you’re a detective.”
“I didn’t have a warrant to go inside, or I would have called for backup. But there were plenty of trash containers to duck behind in case someone caught me snooping around.”
“Where is this infamous Alley?” Marcus asked. “I grew up in Livermore and I’ve never heard of it.”
“I’m not surprised,” Rook said. “It’s in a commercial district over by the airport. It’s not a real alley, only a dead-end dirt lot filled with weeds and trash. Someone christened it and the name stuck. It’s a garage converted into a small living quarters.”
“Where dopers meet and connect,” Cait said, recalling Fumié’s description. “Pagan means those without a specific religion.”
“That about sums it up.”
“Can’t believe Fumié went there,” Cait said. “She’s a tiny, beautiful girl, who looks as innocent as that bowl of water Niki’s lapping up.”
“That’s her advantage,” Rook said.
“But she was in high school at the time. A daredevil teen.”
“Who toyed with danger,” Rook said. “Turns out I know her dad. He took early retirement from Sandia Labs and became a full-time rancher. He taught Fumié how to protect herself.”
Marcus brushed at imaginary dirt on his jeans. “She could still get hurt.”
Cait remembered Marcus’s reaction when she introduced Fumié, how he’d straightened his shirt and blushed. He liked Fumié. A lot.
“I hope no one saw you at Pagan Alley, because if Manning knew you were there, he could decide not to come back,” she said. “I wouldn’t miss him, but he is our only link to Wally.”
“He’s not going anywhere. He waited too long and came too far to give up now.”
She pulled out a stool and sat. “I was awake all night thinking of how to catch Wally. I have to do something, Rook. It’s not safe for the actors.”
“Whatever’s going on in your head won’t work without police assistance.”
“I’m not naive. And who said anything about not involving the police?” She reflected back to when she was a rookie cop. There’d been times when she’d been removed from a situation because she was female, but she’d fought hard and won that battle, at least in her department.
Rook shifted his feet. “You don’t have to convince me. I know you’re tough and confident, but this is different. You’re no longer a cop.”
With a glint in her eye, she asked, “Are you saying that when I turned in my shield I became nothing?”
He chuckled. “Of course not, but do you think I want your blood on my hands if Wally kills you?”
“Look,” Cait said, “I’ve given this a lot of thought. Use me, set something up to get to Wally. War correspondents cover stories firsthand in war zones close enough to the action to provide written accounts, photos, and film footage. Even though Manning had protection, he was exposed and vulnerable. Like I am every time I step outside the house. But it’s an adrenaline roller coaster for him. I just want this over with so I can get on with my life.”
“I’m working on it,” Rook said, “but you don’t make it easy.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know something is going on between Wally and Manning, like a score to settle between their families.”
He hesitated. “I’ll talk to Manning.”
Cait smiled. “Come on, Rook, we’ll talk to Manning. After all, I’m your bait.”
Rook grunted. “So where is he?”
Cait saw June and Jim looking in the window. When she opened the door, Niki ran outside.
“You have company?” June asked.
“Only Detective Rook.”
“Two cars are parked in the driveway,” Jim said. “A blue one and a white one.”
Rook exchanged glances with Cait. “The blue one is mine.”
“Are you expecting police officers?” Cait asked.
“Yes, but they’ll be in a gray car.” He walked to the door. “Has to be Manning’s.”
“I’m coming with you.” She grabbed her sunglasses from the table next to the door.
“That’s Manning’s, all right,” Rook said when they reached the driveway.
A gray Ford pulled up and parked behind the white Toyota.
“Practically a traffic jam,” Cait said.
Rook slipped his sunglasses on. “Perough and Vanicheque.”
The officers wore jeans, sport shirts, and running shoes, their shields tucked out of sight. Perough nodded to Cait while Vanicheque flashed a dimpled smile.
“Manning’s here,” Rook said. “Let’s find him.”
“I don’t like him wandering off and not letting me know he’s here,” Cait said.
“Neither do I.” Rook turned to the officers. “Cait and I will start in the parking lot. He’s shown interest in RT’s trailer. We’ll catch up with you.”
Cait watched the officers leave. “I don’t think he’d break into the trailer.”
“Worth checking. I sure wish we had Manning’s cell number.”
The temperature had risen steadily; it was nine o’clock and Cait was already wishing she’d worn shorts and a sleeveless shirt instead of jeans. “I’ll ask him for it.”
He smiled. “Use your persuasive powers if you have to.”
“Not going to happen, Rook. He’ll want something in return.”
Rook’s cell buzzed. “Yeah,” he answered. “Thanks.” He clipped his phone on his belt. “Vanicheque’s with Manning.”
“That didn’t take long.”
Vanicheque and Perough stood near the courtyard talking with Manning.
“Why didn’t you let Cait know you were here?” Rook asked.
Manning turned, his face flushed from the sun or anger. “I’ve been waiting for Wally. He said he’d come up this way. I should have known not to believe him.”
“Do you mean he was going to meet you and then turn himself in to the police?” Cait asked.
Rook glanced down the hill. “Why was he coming here now?”
“I don’t know. If Wally is anything, he’s unpredictable, and you should believe the opposite of what he says,” Manning replied.
“Maybe he doesn’t trust you,” Cait said.
Manning smirked and slid his hands in his pockets. “I don’t trust him either. Our relationship is strained beyond repair.”
Cait wanted to know if Manning was staying with Wally. “Were you with Wally last night?”
He took his hands from his pockets and cracked his knuckles. “We talked last night.”
Cait cringed. The noise sounded like nails being hammered into her coffin. “In person?”
Manning wiped his glasses on his shirt and looked at Cait for a few seconds. His eyes reflected his anger. “I’ll see you later.” He walked away.
Cait stared at his back. I wonder what he’ll do now.