Seventeen
The second that she got out of the shower she already felt better. A long day, no question, but she'd be able to make it through. Somehow. She checked that the chain lock was still fitted in the door before she went back to her bedroom to get dressed.
Something had her spooked about the place not being totally secure. Somehow, Craig Hutchinson had made it in, and while she absolutely didn't have any trouble believing that he was the sort of man who knew a few locksmiths' tricks, that didn't make her feel much better about the situation. If he could get in once, then he would be able to get in again, no problem. Which meant that Erin need to constantly be on her guard until she was able to put him behind bars.
Erin heard her phone buzz from its place, face-down on the cabinet. She picked it up and answered.
"Russo."
"Good to hear your voice again." Roy's voice was low and rough with tiredness. "Have you figured out where I'm taking you for dinner?"
"No, and I'm not going to. Ask someone else for a recommendation, but you're going to surprise me. I told you that."
"You might have forgotten, and I'm a stranger in a strange land, you know."
"That's what makes it so fun." Erin could imagine him squirming, and smiled at the thought. He didn't seem like the kind of man who ever squirmed. Rather, he seemed like the kind of man who was incapable of squirming. Like he might try and fail.
"Then you'll have to come find me. I'm pulled off on the side of the road here next to a…" A pause, in which she could imagine he was looking out the window to read the name of the place. "McDonald's, I guess. You guys even have strange McDonald's out here, huh?"
"Not that strange."
"Well, come find me. Then we'll find someplace to eat."
"We're not having McDonald's."
"Boo," he teased. "Obviously we're not. Now, you're a detective. Time to start your detective training. Come find me, and then we'll find someplace. But I need a guide around town, so I don't get lost."
"But getting lost is half the fun."
"Then we'll both have fun, smart aleck."
"See you in a bit." Erin hung up the phone and pulled on some clothes, the cold having pulled her skin tight around her body and raising goosebumps.
She tried four McDonalds locations before she found the government-issue sedan that Roy sat in. He stuck out like a sore thumb, so she should have realized that she didn't need to pull into the others and look carefully.
The car was instantly recognizable as a government car, kept in reasonably good shape with blacked-out windows and government plates. It might as well have said "I'm with the F.B.I." on the side of it for all the good it did hiding the information.
She opened the passenger door and slipped inside.
"You found me!" He feigned surprise.
"Somehow. I guess it's just my incredible sense as a detective that led me to your location, first try."
"Really. First place you checked?"
"Absolutely."
He looked suitably impressed, though she suspected that he had no illusions about her telling the truth.
"Well, I was thinking Italian."
"Perfect. Drive me away, Romeo."
"I don't know if I'd go that far," he chuckled. "How about just dinner?"
"Good enough for me," Erin purred. They made their way back onto the streets, busy enough to take a good look around. As she had promised, she provided very little—if anything—in the way of directions.
He'd ask if she had a recommendation every few corners, or if she liked a particular restaurant. She practiced her shrug. Finally they pulled into a restaurant with 'Italian' in the name. Erin hadn't been there before; in fact, hadn't heard the name. It was too far north to be part of her usual repertoire, but she wasn't about to criticize just because of that.
They were seated and a thirty-something who looked like they'd made poor life decisions came to ask what they wanted to drink. Water, they both answered. A minute later, breadsticks came with the drinks. Erin picked one up and slowly started making her way through the basket.
"How are you liking Los Angeles?"
"Oh, you know. It's a big city. They're all pretty similar, when all you have to go on is a field office and a hotel."
"I suppose that's probably true, when you get to enough of them. I wouldn't know."
"Then you should have recommended someplace."
"Nah," she said, waving the suggestion away with the half-eaten breadstick in her hand. "Where's the fun in that?"
"So you're doing all this for my benefit, then?"
"Of course!" She smiled. "I care for your education, Roy. Think of this as a pre-test. Then, over the next few days, you learn about the city, and we see whether or not you're as knowledgeable as the locals on the spots."
"I don't think that I'm going to learn that much in only a few days."
"That's because you didn't have someone tutoring you all those other times."
"And you're planning on being my… what, tutor? In food-related matters?"
"Well, that and detective-work, of course. But I think we should start with where you're closest to success."
Roy's lips pinched together in annoyance that might have been feigned. "You're right. I'm sorry. I should've known better."
"That's the spirit. Grovel just a bit."
"Groveling isn't my thing," he said. His voice was mild, but his expression had changed, just a little bit. As if he wanted to show her that he was a little bit dangerous. Compared to Craig, Roy Schafer was a kitten, and she wasn't sure that she minded it one bit.
She'd already gotten herself into a spot that she shouldn't have gotten herself into. Now that she was hip-deep in trouble, the suggestion to leave it alone, to go home and watch a pack of hyenas pretending to be people rip apart another woman on the basis of female sisterhood.
For what seemed like the hundredth time, Erin wanted to tell Roy what she'd done. Wanted to get some feedback on what she was supposed to do next. It was a dangerous game that she was playing, and explaining how she got the information she was hoping to get, when it was finally time to cash out, would be hard. It would make it that much less awkward if she were able to get him in on the game plan now, before the trouble had come up.
Would it make the evidence that they got inadmissible? She wasn't sure. But that wasn't what she was concerned about right now. Undercover agents worked on cases like this all the time. All she was doing was working undercover.
But undercover cops had someone pulling their strings, someone who could pull them out of the situation if things got too dangerous, and here she was, walking the tight-rope without a safety net.
"Roy, I need to tell you something, and I need this to stay between us."
"Okay," he said, sitting back and looking for the waitress who hadn't taken their order yet. "I can promise that. Probably."
"Well, probably will have to be good enough." She let out a breath. "I may have made contact with Hutchinson."
"I assumed you would," he said, rubbing his nose. "What have you got?"
"Nothing yet. The guy's scary, though. I wouldn't put it past him. He admitted to knowing my sister, though he says he hasn't heard from her since she left Minnesota."
"Okay. We can work with that. What's the cover?"
"I'd—" Erin let out a breath and tried to still her heart beating. "I'd rather not say."
"That's fine. I'm not your dad. But stay safe, and the minute that there's trouble, you call me, alright?"
"Okay," she said, making a mental note to save his number again. She might not forget this time.
"I'll text you to check in once a day. If I don't hear from you within an hour or two, we bring the hammer down. Fair?"
"Fair enough," she said. The waitress was coming up, finally, her wide hips swishing as she walked with a hurry that suggested that she just realized how long they'd been sitting there, the breadstick basket still empty.
"Oh, look at that," the waitress murmured. "You're out of breadsticks. Well, I'll get you some more of those, but could I take your order while I'm at it?"
Erin let out a breath. Not the best Italian place she'd been. But it was a learning experience, just like it was going to be digging into the muck that was Craig Hutchinson.