Читать книгу While Others Sleep - Helen R. Myers - Страница 15

Nuts, Campbell thought. She’d known this trip would be risky, that’s why she had arranged to wait out here. But to be caught so fast…

One of the few friends she had left in the LPD had been transferred to District C. Campbell hoped she could convince her to share what was known regarding Stacie Holms. She thought it would help her work with the Saunders family. Politics. Networking. She hated everything that stood for, but it was the technique du jour and it was her only other brainstorm since Bryce Tyndell remained WU like Maida—whereabouts unknown in Cody speak—having yet to show up at the office or to respond to her page.

She’d changed for this meeting thinking she would meet her friend at the mall, and wore the typical shopper attire—jeans, T-shirt and jogging shoes. Then she learned Taneeka’s car was being serviced and she would have to pick her up at the station. Campbell had hoped to meet her in the back parking area where there were few windows and fewer vehicles, but it was impossible to hide her Cody Security vehicle—especially from someone like the cop charging across the parking lot.

“I said hold it!”

Intimidating as Lefevre’s voice could be, it was the hard slap on the truck’s hood that had Campbell hitting the brakes. With sickly certainty, she knew her streak of bad luck had yet to change.

Detective Alan Lefevre stepped over to the driver’s window. All she knew of the big-boned and loudmouthed detective was that he’d been Greg’s distant relation through marriage. The scene he’d caused at Greg’s funeral made him a permanent part of that bad dream. Of all the people to run into…

“I said, why are you here?” he demanded.

“That’s none of your business.”

“You? On these premises? Guess again.”

She had a choice—create a bigger scene or cut her losses and opt for a hasty retreat. As loud as he was, if she drug this out, they were bound to attract an audience. Yet she didn’t quit easily.

“I don’t want any trouble. Five minutes is all I need.”

“To do what? Everyone knows you have an ax to grind.”

“If I did, I’d be at District B.”

“We’ve had transfers and realignments, something I suspect you know.”

She refused to respond to that. Getting a friend in trouble wasn’t an option, and accepting that she’d made a mistake in coming here, she let off the brake and jammed her foot onto the accelerator.

The launch into street traffic was almost as unnerving as running into Lefevre, and she barely missed a FedEx truck while, in her rearview mirror, she saw smoke rising as a minivan struggled not to rear-end her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gripping the steering wheel. “I’m sorry!”

Damn Lefevre. How was she supposed to know he’d been transferred? What were the odds that he would be leaving the building as she was arriving?