She concentrated on the physical sensations, on her body’s need for release. There were no emotions, and she was grateful for it. Later she might hate herself. Later she might feel like a whore. Later she might curse him. For now he was providing her a service, and it felt good. For a few minutes she could feel physical pleasure and escape the endless emotional pain.
For now she used Greg Hewitt. He didn’t complain.
When it was over, as predicted, she felt dirty and embarrassed. If he saw it, he didn’t say. He got up and straightened his clothes.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” he said.
Lauren sat up, pulling her sweater around her. “What?”
“I’ll kill him for you,” he said, as if he was offering to take out the trash. “For twenty-five thousand dollars. Think about it.”
She watched him walk to the gate and let himself out.
41
“Are you having fun yet?”
Tanner had a smirk on her face as Mendez walked into the reception area to get her. It was barely seven in the morning, and she had put a good hour’s drive behind her, but she looked fresh and bright-eyed. Even after the drive her khaki slacks looked crisp and her raw silk blazer looked fresh off the hanger.
Mendez grimaced. He had come in at five off a fitful bit of sleep. Even though he had showered and shaved, he already felt rumpled. “Do I look that bad?”
“Well, it sounded like you got a big dose of Lauren Lawton last night. I know what that feels like.”
He gave her a crooked, sheepish smile. “I can’t say you didn’t warn me.”
“No, you can’t,” she agreed, the green eyes twinkling. “She gave it to you with both barrels?”
“Me and my boss. Two separate loads of double-ought attitude.”
“I’ll bet that didn’t sit well with your sheriff.”
“You got that right. Now I’m here and suspended.”
“No good deed goes unpunished. So how about you buy me breakfast, slick?” she suggested with a bright smile. “It was a long hike over the mountain. I need some greasy diner food, and you look like you could use a pot of coffee.”
“God help me if you worked up an appetite,” Mendez said, holding the door. “I’m already out two days’ pay.”
He had called her the night before to ask when she might finish looking at the B&Es in her jurisdiction during the time Roland Ballencoa had lived there, thinking it might take her a day or two to get to it. But she had spent the better part of the day and evening going through the files after he had left Santa Barbara. She had offered to bring what she had to Oak Knoll so they could get going.
“How’d you get away without your charming partner?” Mendez asked as they walked to his car.
“It’s my day off,” she said. “You’d better make it worth my while.”
He went to open the passenger door for her, but she beat him to it.
“I would have done that for you,” he said.
She looked up at him, puzzled. “What?”
“Opened the door.”
She laughed. “Oh, Christ, I forgot you’re a gentleman! That’ll take some getting used to.”
As he drove he filled her in on the details of the previous night’s excitement. She listened intently, frowning when he told her Ballencoa had been at the sports complex photographing Leah and Wendy.
“Fucking slimy piece of shit,” she said. “That’s exactly what he did in SB. It’s a hell of a front, you’ve gotta say. He takes pictures—and you’ll find out he takes pictures of everybody: girls, boys, old people, little kids. So if you look at his proofs or his negatives, you can’t say he’s a perv targeting teenage girls. It’s brilliant, actually. And he makes money doing it. That’s what gets me. He makes money at it. He’s good at it.”
“Well, he won’t be making any money at it today,” Mendez said. “She busted that camera in about five pieces.”
Tanner laughed an evil laugh. “Good for her. I’ll bet Roland about ruptured his spleen over that. He doesn’t like people touching his stuff. That’s how you can tweak him: touch his stuff, move it, handle it. He can’t stand it. He’ll blow a gasket.”
“My partner and I went into the house he rents in San Luis. It looks like no one has ever lived there.”
“That’s Roland. He’s got a place for everything and everything is in its place. It was some kind of incredible miracle that we got that blood sample out of his van. Eventually we’ll hang him with that.”
“Not soon enough,” Mendez said, pulling into the parking lot of the diner on La Quinta. The place was a favorite haunt of hospital personnel, EMTs, and cops. His tastes ran more to huevos rancheros with jalapeños and black beans, but for good old American grease, this was the place to come.
“I can smell it already!” Tanner said as she got out of the car. She started for the building like a bloodhound on a trail.
Mendez started after her, then spotted the van parked in the back corner of the lot next to the Dumpsters. He pulled up short.
“Wait.”
“What?” Tanner asked impatiently. “I’m starving!”
She turned around to look at him, but kept moving toward the diner.
“That’s Ballencoa’s van back in the corner,” he said. “I memorized the tag number.”
Tanner stopped in her tracks, then slowly began to move toward the van. “No shit? I guess pervs like pancakes and bacon too.”
Keeping one eye on the diner, Mendez followed her toward the van.
“There’s probably nothing in it,” Tanner muttered, raising up on tiptoe, as if that might help her see farther into the vehicle. “He doesn’t leave things to chance. I swear he probably wipes his prints down every time he gets out of it. He probably wipes his prints off the toilet seat when he puts it down.”
Mendez stole a look inside the cab of the van. If Ballencoa caught him near the vehicle, that news would go straight to Cal Dixon’s ear. His heart skipped a beat as the diner’s side door opened. A couple of doctors in surgical scrubs came out.
“We can’t go in the restaurant,” Mendez said. “If he sees me, he’ll flip. If he sees you, he’ll flip. If he doesn’t see either one of us, we can tail him.
“How hungry are you?” he asked Tanner.
“I could live on air,” she said, already starting for the car, as eager as he was to find out what Roland Ballencoa would do after his breakfast.
They drove around the block, finding a spot along the curb in sight of the diner, but not near enough to be conspicuous. Tanner opened her purse, pulled out a couple of Snickers bars, and handed one to Mendez.
“Breakfast of champions,” she said.
Mendez reached into the backseat and snagged a case with a pair of binoculars in it. It took a moment to get the focus right and to scan what he could see of the restaurant through the front window, but he finally caught a glimpse of Ballencoa in a booth toward the back.
“What’s he doing?” Tanner asked.
“Drinking coffee. Eating eggs.”
“Bastard,” Tanner muttered. “I want eggs. Let me see.”
Mendez handed her the glasses, and they settled in to wait. He studied her as she stared intently through the binoculars. She was a funny little puzzle. He’d certainly never met another woman like her. He could feel the intensity of her energy just sitting there. She was like a bird dog on point, muscles taut, her focus on her prey. He had a feeling she probably did everything like that—full-on, balls-out—if she’d had balls. He didn’t know that many guys with that kind of intensity.
“Can I ask you a question?”
She didn’t break her concentration. “Shoot.”
“How’d you get to be a cop?”
“I went to the academy, same as you.”