“Uh-huh. Pure supposition, but it’s a good guess that he installed the tracker before he ever showed up at your place the first time.”
“Then he’s always known I work there.”
“I imagine so. You probably park in the employee section and workers aren’t coming and going in that area except at shift change.”
“Wouldn’t he need my key fob? I lock the car. How did he get in?”
“All kinds of information on the dark web. If it was impossible, there wouldn’t be a booming auto theft industry. And his purpose wasn’t to steal your car. He only wanted to tamper with it.”
Ramsey felt like crying but only because she was so mad. “Can you remove the tracker?”
“Maybe. The tools are around here somewhere. We had the trackers professionally installed, but from time to time we’ve needed to get at them. We have a couple of guys who take care of that.”
“Oh. No. Please, I don’t want anyone else to be involved.”
“Sullivan’s one of those guys.” Bailey glanced at his watch. “He’ll be here in twenty. Do you want to wait or have me take a crack at it?”
Ramsey considered her choices. “I don’t suppose waiting makes any kind of difference. Jay already knows I’m here, doesn’t he?”
“If we’re not wrong about the tracker, he does.”
Ramsey slumped in her chair and sighed heavily. “I hate this.Hateit.” She tilted her head back to look at the chief from under her lashes. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”
“You didn’t. Sullivan did.”
“Yes, but—”
“And it was the right thing to do. This business with your ex is not something you should ever have to deal with on your own. I believe Sullivan explained some of the criminal ramifications.”
“He did. Pulled me back from stepping into shit.” A hand flew to her mouth. “Sorry. He saved me from jumping into hot water.”
“No, no. Stepping into shit works.”
She lowered her hand to reveal a wan, slightly embarrassed smile. “Yeah, I guess it does.”
Bailey pushed off his desk. “Listen. I’m going to go and get the tools. You can stay here or if you want something to drink, there’s a Keurig in the breakroom and about a hundred different pods to choose from. It’s been a real disappointment of mine to discover so many of my cops like flavored coffee.”
A bubble of laughter lifted the corners of her mouth and the faint smile remained until Bailey left the office. When he was gone, Ramsey hoisted herself out of the chair and stretched her legs. She was feeling crampy from her run because she’d gotten in the car without cooling down. She wondered if there was anything besides coffee in the breakroom and went to see if she could find a bottled water.
As it turned out, the fridge was stocked with sugared and diet soda, flavored water, Gatorade, Vitaminwater, and green bottles of San Pellegrino. Shaking her head, amused and a little dismayed, Ramsey located the plain bottled spring water packed in the crisper drawers. She took one out, left a note that she owed the kitty a buck, and returned to Bailey’s office.
The chief regarded her selection approvingly when he came in. “I guess you saw the refrigerator.”
“It was a revelation.”
“That’s one word for it. Abomination would be another.” He set the plastic pouch of tools he was carrying on the desk and checked his watch again. “Won’t be long. Do you mind if I attend to some reports?”
“No. Not at all.” Ramsey’s key fob was attached to a flexible wristlet that she wore when she went running. She removed it and set it beside the tool pouch. “So you have it,” she said. “Would you like me to wait somewhere else while you work?”
“Absolutely not. Just sit. Relax.”
It was surprising to Ramsey that she was able to do it. She didn’t pick up her phone to distract herself, didn’t shift her gaze around the office, didn’t fidget her feet or tap her fingers on the arm of the chair or press the tips against the curve of the water bottle until it crackled. She just sat. Relaxed.
When Sullivan entered the station, he saw Bailey look up from his desk and wave him forward. He wondered why the chief raised an index finger to his lips in the universal sign for quiet until he got close enough to see that he had a visitor.
Sullivan opened the door carefully and only wide enough to allow him to slip inside. There was an audible click when he shut it, but the sound was the tradeoff for silencing the hum and rumble of voices in the outer room. He cocked an eyebrow at his chief, pointed to Ramsey, and mouthed the word sleeping.
Bailey nodded and pointed to the tracker device tool kit and Ramsey’s wearable neon green key fob attachment. It took a few more gestures before Sullivan nodded that he understood. Bailey slid the tools and the fob toward him and sent him out. Sullivan went as quietly as he’d come.
