Page 103 of Deep Tide

Nicole shook her head and looked out at the beach, where tourists on lounge chairs baked under the midday sun. She was tired of turf wars and pissing contests. Maybe she should have expected this when she signed up for a male-dominated profession. She’d been dealing with this since her first days at the police academy, and it had only gotten worse since she’d busted her ass and made detective.

“Did they tell you about the tracking?” he asked.

“Who? You mean Dumont and Romero?”

“Yeah.”

“No.” She paused, trying to read his expression. “You mean tracking a suspect or—”

“Tracking the victims. The hit man—whoever he was—installed a tracking device on the car.”

“Which car?”

“Both of them. Massey and Rincon. The devices were discovered at the crime lab when the cars were processed.”

“Massey was killed behind the apartment where she lived,” Nicole said. “Why would they need to track her car?”

“I don’t know, but they did. And Rincon was targeted outside a strip club, but it wasn’t a place he frequented. So, him being there was a one-off.”

Frustration swelled inside her chest as she thought about what other key details these two detectives might have left out. And all because they were jealously guarding their case.

Nicole’s phone beeped with a message. It was Brady. Conference room in 20.

“I have to get back,” she told Miguel.

“Sure.” He put the car in reverse.

“Did you really drive all the way down here to give me this list?”

“And to talk to you.”

“Why?”

He circled the edge of the lot and headed for the exit. “We have a deal, remember? I’m expecting that heads-up before you make an arrest.”

An arrest. He sounded so confident. But given all the challenges she was dealing with she had no idea when that was going to happen.

Hot frustration mingled with insecurity in her gut. What if she wasn’t up to this case? A woman had been murdered, right here in her backyard. What if her killer went free, and it was all Nicole’s fault because she’d overlooked a clue or failed to notice some key detail or trusted the wrong person?

“You download that app I told you about?” he asked.

“No.”

“You should do it. You don’t want anything getting intercepted.”

“Intercepted? By who?”

He shot her a dark look.

“You’re seriously worried that a cartel is going to intercept one of your phone calls? What, like they’re the NSA or something?”

“People’s phones can fall into the wrong hands. Especially reporters’,” he said grimly. “It happens all the time.”

She removed the window screen and tossed it into the back seat.

“You think I’m paranoid?” he asked.

“Yeah. A little.”

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