Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(64)

And maybe there wasn’t.

He walked back over, and she searched his eyes for any sign of resentment.

“You sure there’s nothing else?” he asked matter-of-factly. “Just the camera and the charger?”

“I’m sure.”

He nodded at her SUV. “Looks like someone used a crowbar or a tire iron to break the glass, so I wouldn’t bet on us getting any prints. And the motel doesn’t have security cams.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“What was on that Nikon?” he asked.

“Not much. It had a new memory card, so just those few blurry photos from last night.”

“The Tahoe?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your room?” he asked.

“What about it?”

“Any chance someone was in there?”

Sara’s blood ran cold. “How? I mean, my door was locked.”

“You’re sure?”

“Well . . . yeah. I mean, it locks automatically.”

No way someone had been in her room. They would have had to tamper with the lock, and she’d seen no sign of that. She walked over to the door to check, just to make sure. With Nolan at her side, she examined the doorframe and locking mechanism but saw no evidence of any damage.

“I don’t see anything,” she said.

Nolan checked his watch. “What time are you meeting Raul?”

“Seven thirty. I’m already running late.”

“Biggs is going with you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I asked him to.”

“That’s ridiculous! Why would you ask him to?”

Anger flared in his eyes—his first hint of emotion this morning. “Because someone ran you off the road last night, Sara. Because someone just broke into your car. And because until we know more about what happened, you shouldn’t be walking around a crime scene unescorted.”

“I’ll be with Raul.”

“Raul isn’t armed. Biggs is.”

She took a deep breath, trying to rein in her temper. “Nolan, come on. You guys are short-staffed. I couldn’t possibly ask one of your officers to waste his time babysitting me—”

“You’re not asking, and it’s not your call. You’re working in my jurisdiction, and you need security.” Another look at his watch. “I’d do it myself, but I have a deposition at eight.”

Sara gritted her teeth and stared up at him. He was determined—she could see it in his eyes.

“Biggs has supplies in his trunk,” he told her. “He’ll help you get a trash bag taped over your window until you can get it fixed, along with everything else.”

Biggs walked over and stopped short, as if sensing an argument. He looked from Nolan to Sara.

“Here’s a copy of the report,” he said, handing it to her.

She folded it in half. “Thank you, Officer.” She turned to Nolan with a fake smile. “And thank you, too, Detective. I appreciate your time this morning.”

“Don’t mention it.”

? ? ?

Talia followed the highway’s sharp curve, tapping the brakes when she spotted Nolan’s pickup. She rolled past it, then pulled onto the shoulder and parked. Grabbing her backpack off the passenger seat, she got out.

Nolan stood beside his truck, rummaging through the chrome toolbox mounted behind the cab. He wore slacks and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and she knew he’d been at the courthouse earlier.

He glanced up as she approached. “You bring the camera?”

“Yup.”

Nolan grabbed a heavy-duty flashlight and led her down the dusty shoulder to a pair of orange traffic cones. He kept a crapload of emergency equipment in his personal vehicle and encouraged other officers to do the same. You never knew when you might come upon someone with car trouble, and his motto was Be prepared.

Talia looked around at the empty lanes. The afternoon sun had dipped behind the hills, leaving this stretch of highway in shadows.

“This where Sara went off the road?” Talia asked.

“About thirty yards back.”

Talia crouched beside him. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out the camera she’d checked out of the equipment room. It was worth more than a week’s pay, and she was careful as she handed it over.

“Thanks.” Nolan checked the settings. Then he set up the ruler for scale and handed her the flashlight. “Aim the light right over the tread mark.”

Talia positioned the beam so all the ridges in the dirt stood out. The effect would have been better at night, but the extra light still helped. Nolan snapped a few shots.

“He pulled off the road after he hit her?” Talia asked.

“Sara thinks he did.”

“How do we know this is his tire track?”

“We don’t.” Nolan crouched closer to the ground and took a few more shots. “But I combed this whole stretch, both sides, and this is the only track out here.”

“What about the emergency responders last night?”

“They parked north.”

Talia looked around. This wasn’t a heavily traveled highway, but still this didn’t seem conclusive enough. Almost twenty hours had passed since the incident, and anyone could have pulled over. All this forensic work seemed like a waste of time, but he’d insisted she meet him out here with the camera.