“Here’s what I’m thinking,” she said plucking him from better thoughts. “There’s that little shopping center near Elsa’s house. I think they parked there, walked through the woods, and hugged the tree line that backed up to the houses.” She pointed to specifics houses on the map. “If any of these houses have surveillance, let’s check them out.”
He zoomed in on the map, got the street name, and went searching for those videos. Four homes had front-facing cameras, three had rear-facing. He picked one and viewed the video.
The first yielded nothing. He repeated his efforts on another home with a backyard camera. Also nothing.
When he opened the last one, excitement pounded through him. “We got a hit.”
“I see,” she replied.
A lone person walked by in full view of the camera. In his hand, a gas can.
“There it is.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
“Nice work,” he said.
“Yeah, we got it goin’ on, don’t we?” She kissed him once before turning her attention back to the computer.
“One kiss? That’s it?”
She stroked his thigh. “One now, the rest later.”
Motivated to find the arsonist, he went in search of the surveillance Stryker had pulled of the shopping center. There were over twenty files of the parking lot.
As if sensing his frustration, she said, “I’ll drive.” With gentle fingers, she took control the mouse, clicking on the first link.
He sipped the now-cold coffee. “Refill?”
“I’m good, thanks,” she said, laser-focused on the video.
With mug in hand, he walked into the kitchen, dumped the cold liquid into the sink, and filled his mug.
Back in the office, he sat beside her. Despite the late hour, Slash was determined.
“Nope,” she said. After viewing the next video, she mumbled, “Not that one either.”
More watching, more eliminating.
He kept his attention glued to the screen while they reviewed video after video. She clicked on the next one. It started playing.
“We got it.”
They watched as a silver, two-door coupe parked in a dark corner of the lot. A lone person exited the vehicle, their ski mask already in place. He pulled a small gas container from the back seat and headed toward the woods.
“That’s the car that’s been following me.” She zoomed in on the license plate. “It ends in one-five.”
This time, however, the entire license plate number was in full view. She dragged her laptop over, logged into ALPHA, and plugged in the tag number. While the system searched, she regarded Carrera.
A slow, sexy smile filled her face. “They are so fucked.”
“You’re a beast, you know that?”
“I love when someone fucks with me,” she said. “They have no idea who they’re dealing with. When my parents died, I was gutted and utterly lost.”
Sadness crept into his heart. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the part I played.”
“I had to dig deep. I had to force myself to never give up hope, even though I was scared.” She lifted her yoga pants. Strapped to her ankle was her switchblade. “Once I armed myself, I got my foothold.”
“Did you ever use it?”
