The older woman watched him curiously. He could’ve ignored her and gone about his business. But now that Sophia had seen him, he had no choice except to confront her and explain his presence.
She tensed as he approached. Did she recognize him? He didn’t see why she would. She hadn’t considered him good enough to notice. She’d dated wealthy ranchers’ sons, not illegitimate half-breeds who lived in shacks with dirt floors. The one time she’d agreed to go out with him, she’d made him a laughingstock to his two half brothers.
“Chief St. Claire?” he said.
“Yes?” Suspicion lit the eyes he remembered so well. Framed by thick black eyelashes, they were a very pale green. As a boy, Roderick had thought they were the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen and he had to admit that nothing in the past fourteen years had changed his mind.
“I’m Roderick Guerrero.” He wasn’t planning to mention that they’d once known each other. That wasn’t significant. “I work for a company called Department 6.”
“Isn’t that the outfit that sent a couple of operatives to Paradise last summer to investigate the Covenanters?” the woman with Sophia chimed in.
“It is,” he replied, and offered her a polite smile. “We do a lot of undercover work, mostly for the DEA, but I know my way around an investigation.”
Sophia reclaimed his attention. “And you’re here because…”
“Bruce Dunlap called me about the recent shootings. He said you don’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing and he asked me to come down here.”
“He’s paying you?”
“No, I have a…vested interest in seeing this solved.”
“You don’t think that’ll happen without you.”
He couldn’t help reacting to the edge in her voice. “You said it. I didn’t.”
She pressed her lips so tightly together, all the color disappeared from them. “So we’re going to pretend we’ve never met?”
“It’s been years,” he said calmly. “And it was such a minor acquaintance I didn’t expect you to remember.”
“Minor. I see.”
The other woman was listening so avidly her mouth hung open, but he refused to pay her any heed. Pushing his sunglasses a little higher, he gestured at the markers that had been placed at the crime scene. “What’d you find out here?”
Sophia folded her arms. “And now you’re assuming that my answer is yes.”
“I’m assuming you’re smart enough to realize when you’re—”
“Looking at the solution to all my problems?” she broke in.
He felt a muscle tic in his cheek. “Getting something for nothing.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You have no official right to be here. This is like some spectator going to the coach in the middle of a game and saying, ‘Here, let me take over.’”
“If that coach is losing, it might serve him well to listen to that spectator.”
The woman behind her snickered, but Sophia didn’t even glance at her. “What if I don’t want your help?”
Rod couldn’t believe this was the girl he’d once admired. A cop was the last thing he’d expected her to become. He’d thought she’d grow up to be another Edna—a wife and stay-at-home mom who doted on her children, played bridge, went shopping and contributed to charity events. But here she was, wearing the typical police uniform—blue shirt and pants, heavy utility belt, gun, badge and shiny black shoes. There was some grit beneath Sophia’s beauty that hadn’t been there before. But he didn’t like this version any better. Not after what she’d done.
“The color of my skin might allow me more freedom of movement among certain people. I speak Spanish. I know this area. And I’m offering you my time and expertise. Why would you say no?”
“You mean besides the fact that you’re not here in any kind of official capacity? The FBI is putting together a task force. I won’t need you.”
“What would it hurt to take all the help you can get?”
“I don’t want you in my way, and I don’t see how you can avoid it with an ego the size of yours.”
He removed his sunglasses. “I can have myself assigned if you insist on being—” he wanted to say “a bitch” but choked it back “—difficult.” Milt was an ass**le on most counts, but his contacts and money—and the reputation of Department 6—could open doors. Rod had little doubt that someone with sufficient power would see his involvement as a good thing, especially if he was offering his services for free.
“By whom?” she scoffed.
“The governor, if necessary.”
“Oh, yeah? Then I’ll wait for his call,” she said and motioned for the woman she was with to precede her into the trailer.
8
“Are you sure you don’t want Mr. Guerrero’s help?” Debbie asked as the door banged shut behind them.
“Positive,” Sophia replied. “With the size of the chip on his shoulder, it’ll be a miracle if he can stay out of his own way. This investigation is difficult enough as it is.” She was thinking of Lindstrom and the possibility of Leonard Taylor’s involvement. Having grown up in the area, Leonard had friends and family everywhere. Even the judge to whom she had to appeal for various warrants was related to him. As far as she was concerned, she was already surrounded by people she couldn’t trust.
Debbie frowned. “I don’t know. He seemed pretty confident. And if it could save lives…”
“I don’t need him.” Sophia wasn’t going to cooperate with a man as arrogant as Roderick Guerrero. The FBI would be getting involved any day. He couldn’t offer more than they could.
“You said something about knowing him.” Debbie knelt on the couch to peek through the curtains, which she tended to keep closed against the hot sun. “But I’ve never seen him around.”
“We went to school together. Until his mother died. Then he dropped out. He’s Bruce Dunlap’s bastard.” It wasn’t the kindest way to explain Rod’s situation, but Sophia was still fuming over his “now that I’m here, everything will be okay” attitude.
“Of course! Edna nearly has a coronary whenever anyone mentions him.”
Sophia didn’t comment. Had he really threatened to go over her head?