Watching Trin by Freya Barker
Chapter 18
Trin
There’s not nearly as much room in the trunk of Vic’s Acura as there is in the Jeep, but we manage to cram the week’s groceries in.
With my vehicle out of commission—it’s sitting in the driveway covered with a tarp—Vic offered to drive. Most of the time I do the big grocery run while she picks up the odds and ends we run out of during the week.
When Bodhi and I got to my place last night, a police cruiser was already parked at the end of the driveway. Vic had just opened the door to the officer as we walked up and was stepping outside, Tuck right behind her. The first thing I did was pull my kid into a hug he surprisingly returned. Bodhi seemed to know the cop and took care of introductions before Vic explained what happened.
Both of them had woken up at the sound of the crash. Apparently Tucker—whose bedroom is at the front of the house—went to his window and saw someone running across the street, away from the house. Vic told him to stay in his room and went to investigate, finding the Jeep vandalized. She saw a rock lying in the middle of the broken glass on the back seat and immediately called 911. Then she called me.
There wasn’t much the officer could do but take Vic and Tucker’s statements. Tuck had only briefly seen the suspect from the back, but he was able to contribute he thought maybe the perp was a teen wearing dark clothing with a hood pulled over his head.
Not a lot to go on, but when the officer collected the rock from the back seat, he found a piece of paper taped to it with the words Fuck Off. None of us had any clue as to what that might mean but he took that with him as evidence as well.
“You never told me how dinner was last night,” Vic says when she slips behind the wheel with a meaningful glance my way.
“It was good. His sister knows you. She says you come into her salon. Anika.”
“That’s Bodhi’s sister? How did I not know that? I work with the guy for Pete’s sake.”
“I’m guessing hair salons aren’t a common topic of conversation in the firehouse,” I suggest, grinning at her.
“Now that I know that, I can see the family resemblance.” Her hand ruffles through her hair. “It also reminds me I should make an appointment. I haven’t had a haircut since the spring.”
“I might go see her at some point too.” I grab a hank of my hair and inspect it for split ends. “I had my last visit back in San Antonio the week before moving here. I can hold off for a bit.”
When we pull into the driveway, Vic quickly calls the Chop Shop while I start unloading bags.
“Score. She just had a no-show and can fit me in,” she announces when she joins me in the kitchen, piling more bags on the counter. “Sorry to leave you with the groceries.”
I wave her off.
“It’s fine. Go. I’ve got this.”
She drops a kiss on my cheek.
“You’re the best sister a girl could have.”
I snort loudly.
“I’m the only one you have and you’re just saying that because you’re stiffing me with the mess.”
She cackles as she disappears down the hall, only to stick her head back in the kitchen moments later.
“Actually, I’m doing you a favor.” A shit-eating grin spreads on her face. “Bodhi just pulled up and I’ll be at least a couple of hours at the salon.”
She waggles her eyebrows like some poor imitation of Groucho Marx.
“He’s picking me up to go to the police station, wiseass. Remember? We need a copy of the police report for the insurance adjuster who’s supposed to be here at three.”
She wiggles her fingers over her shoulder as she heads for the front door. A minute later Bodhi walks in.
It had been past one when he left here early this morning, after helping me fasten a tarp over the Jeep. Tuck had gone upstairs after throwing a couple of pointed looks Bodhi’s way, and Vic was in the house when Bodhi kissed me goodnight on the front steps. Part of me wanted to get in his truck and head back to his place to continue what we started.
In the bright light of day, remembering what we were doing last night in great detail, I find it hard to look him in the eye.
“Hey,” I toss out casually, busying myself putting groceries in the cupboards. “I’ll just be a minute.”
With an armful of cans I duck into the pantry, stacking them on the shelves. He makes me forget myself and I need a moment to find my composure around him.
But when I turn around, he’s right there, blocking the doorway.
“Hello to you too,” he says in a low voice.
The next moment he’s in my space, crowding me with my back against the shelves as his arms slip around my waist. Then his mouth is on mine with unbridled hunger, yanking me right back to where we left off twelve or so hours ago.
When he finally ends the kiss, my hands are tangled in his hair and my heart is hammering out of my chest.
“Better,” he comments, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
He backs away and I have to grab on to a shelf to stay standing.
So much for composure.
“We should get going,” I point out, trying to regain some ground as I follow him back out into the kitchen.
“What time is the insurance guy supposed to be here?”
“Three,” I inform him, balling up the empty bags and stuffing them in the cupboard under the sink.
“Plenty of time. I want to make a quick stop after.”
“For what?”
I grab my phone off the counter and my bag from the living room before heading to the front door.
“You’ll see,” he says mysteriously.
We’re only a couple of blocks from the police station and are just getting out of his truck when a dark SUV pulls into the space beside us. Bodhi lifts his hand in greeting as a very tall, bearded guy gets out. The badge hanging on a chain around his neck easily identifies him as a cop.
“Roadkill. What are you doing here?” he asks Bodhi, but keen blue eyes zoom in on me.
“Picking up a copy of a police report. Somebody smashed the rear window on Trin’s Jeep with a rock last night.”
He seems to realize his friend and I don’t know each other and quickly introduces us. Detective Jay VanDyken’s massive hand swallows mine.
“You’re the boy’s mother. From the rapids,” he adds as clarification.
“Guilty.”
His responding smile instantly mellows his rather stern appearance.
“Glad your boy’s all right.”
“Thank you.”
“Trin is also an investigative reporter and she’s been doing some research on your case,” Bodhi volunteers.
I glare at him, a little annoyed, but that seems to slide right off his back. Besides, if not for last night’s events, I would’ve given the man a call today and introduced myself.
VanDyken lifts an eyebrow.
“Is that so?”
* * *
Bodhi
I can feel her bristle at my introduction, but ignore it.
Bumping into Jay was a coincidence but there’s no reason not to capitalize on it. Now at least he knows who she is—and vice versa—and that’s one less hurdle she’ll have to jump.
“Actually, yes,” she responds to him crisply. “Happy to send you my credentials if you’d like.”
She’s defensive and I wonder if that’s because she’s accustomed to being underestimated. It wouldn’t surprise me. The woman may look fragile with those big blue eyes and pouty lips, but you have to be pretty badass to do the kind of work she does.
“No need. I should be able to find you online,” Jay responds, cocking a thumb my way. “Besides, you’ve got this man to vouch for you.”
Wrong thing to say.
From the look on Jay’s face he knows it. Poor guy, his social skills have never been what you’d call polished.
“It may be news to you, Detective, but some of us women can stand on our own two feet, without the need of a man to justify their existence.”
Boy, her tongue is sharp when she’s riled. I bite on my lip to prevent myself from jumping to Jay’s defense. Maybe it’s better to let this play out.
I can tell VanDyken is rattled as he tries to come up with a response.
“I…that’s not what I intended to say.” He pauses to gauge her reaction and when her angry glare doesn’t waver, he throws his hands up. “Jesus, I don’t have an issue with women. Heck, I just married one.”
From the fat into the fire.
I don’t bother holding back the chuckle, which both of them ignore anyway. They’re too busy facing off.
“You just made my point,” Trin throws back, stopping just shy of poking her finger into the much larger man’s chest. “You have a misogynistic view of the world, Detective, but not all of us are satisfied catering to a husband.”
“Meredith Carter is my wife.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
Defiant ’til the end. I guess strawberry blonde comes with a temper as well. I like it.
“Yeah,” Jay barks. “It should. She’s the county medical examiner.”
Trin opens her mouth to fire back but then the penny drops.
“Oh.”
“I just came from her office to get the lab reports on our Jane Doe. The case you’re looking into?”
Score for VanDyken.
Now I feel for Trin, who looks a little deflated.
“Look,” the detective continues. “We seem to have started off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we go in, grab a coffee—it’s not as bad as you might think—and compare notes.”
“I’d like that.”
When Jay leads the way into the building, Trin bumps me in the arm.
“You could’ve said something,” she hisses.
“And miss all that?” I tease before adding, “Besides, far be it from me to step in when we both know you can take care of yourself.”
“I’m gonna make you eat those words,” she mumbles and walks ahead of me.
I think I may have just shot myself in the foot.
Trin makes a detour to the front desk to pick up a copy of the report while Jay and I wait off to the side.
“She’s feisty,” the detective observes dryly. “Yours?”
I’m glad we’re out of Trin’s hearing range or she might have to say something about that as well.
“Working on it.”
“Good luck.”
I return his grin and from the corner of my eye notice Trin walking toward us.
“Got everything you need?” I ask and she holds up a plain envelope.
“Let’s grab one of the interview rooms,” the detective suggests, as he leads us down a hallway, pushing open one of the doors.
The room is stark with only a plain metal table and two functional chairs on either side. I check my watch. It’s twenty after one, as long as this doesn’t take too long, we’ll still have time to make that stop I wanted to make.
I was hoping I could show Trin the house today. The real estate agent called me, right before I left to pick Trin up, to let me know the owners countered my offer. They’re asking an additional five grand and I told the agent I’d be in at four thirty to sign, but for some reason I want to know what Trin thinks of the place before I do.
“Was there any news on the body?” Trin fires off at Jay the moment we sit down.
“Not wasting any time, are you?”
She shrugs unapologetically.
“You’re the one who suggested comparing notes.”
“True,” Jay concedes. “All right, they were able to extract some DNA from one of the remaining teeth, which is great, but it’ll only be helpful in identifying her if we have a profile to compare it to. The lab estimates the body likely was in the water between fifteen and twenty years but they can’t make it more specific.”
“It can’t be more than twenty,” I offer. “Since the license to the car was renewed in March of 2001.”
“I can do you one better,” Trin challenges me, a smug grin on her face. “I will bet you that car went into the river not long after April 17, 2001.”
“How is that?”
She turns to Jay.
“Because on April seventeenth of that year, a woman by the name of Anita Wenzel reported her 1992 Honda Civic stolen. I was going over the newspaper archives this morning, found a report of the theft on the police blotter, then I cross-checked it with the DMV listings matching Honda Civics with the partial plate number and came up with her name,” she shares. “It jumped out at me because the address it mentioned is three doors down from our house. I—”
“You lived on East 2nd Avenue?” Jay interrupts her.
She sits up straighter, a little surprised by Jay’s question.
“Still do.”
“Wow, that’s quite the coincidence. Did you know Anita Wenzel?”
“Not really. I vaguely remember seeing the family but I don’t think they lived there long.”
There’s something familiar about the name they mention but I can’t quite place it.
“So you wouldn’t remember when or where they moved?” VanDyken wants to know, his sharp tone catching my attention.
“No.”
“We found her name when we ran the VIN number through the DMV databank,” he explains. “But we can’t seem to locate her. You say it was a family?”
“I’m pretty sure. I wish I could ask my dad, he’d probably know, but I can check with my sister, she may remember something.”
“That would be helpful.” Jay tilts his head as he looks at Trin. “I’m guessing I don’t want to know how you managed to access the DMV?”
The innocent blinking of those big blue eyes doesn’t really match the smug smile her face.
“Let’s just say I have my sources,” she says coyly as she stands up and I follow suit.
VanDyken grins as he gets to his feet as well and turns to me.
“I like her.”
“She’s likable,” I confirm.
“Excuse me, I’m right here.”
“Well aware,” I assure her as I put my hand on her elbow. “We should get going.”
“Hang on.”
The detective pulls his wallet from his pocket and fishes out a card he hands to Trin.
“I probably don’t have to tell you, but be careful. We’re dealing with what looks to be foul play, and someone may not be too happy when we go around asking too many questions. My cell is on the card. Stay in touch.”
Trin waves the card in the air.
“Oh, I will. You may regret giving me this.”
“By the way, the car theft was a nice catch,” he tells her. “I didn’t have that information.”
I can tell she’s pretty pleased with herself. She’s still smiling when I drive up to what I hope will be my house.
“This is gorgeous. Oh my God, look at those views.”
She walks up the stone path to the front door and tries to peek in the window.
“This is amazing. What is this place?”
“I’d show you the inside but I don’t have a key. Not yet anyway.”
She swings around with surprise written all over her face.
“Are you thinking of getting this place?”
“I’m supposed to sign the paperwork later this afternoon, but I wanted a second opinion on the place first.”
“If you’re looking for mine, it’s a hell, yes. This place is awesome.”
I catch her around her waist and pull her flush against me.
“Glad you like it.”
She lifts her hands to my chest and lifts up on her toes to kiss me.
“Now,” she says, slipping from my hold. She catches my hand in hers and pulls me toward the truck. “Maybe you can explain to me why people insist on calling you Roadkill.”