“Hey Rory!” Demi says.
“Hey girl, I just sent it.” Demi nods and pulls over a computer, obviously transferring the call to the laptop as the angle changes, and she begins typing.
“Where are you guys again?” I ask, sitting on my bed.
“This week we’re in Minnesota. Far cry from the Florida Keys.”
I laugh.
“Can’t say I envy you,” I say. “You guys are doing that monster truck case, right?” She nods vigorously. “Is Lana in the truck?”
“Yeah,you couldn’t pay me to do what she’s doing right now. You’ve got to see it; it’s insanity,” she says. “Okay, the image is processing. Hold on, I’ll send you some pictures.”
My phone vibrates, and I switch screens to see that multiple photos have been sent from her. Scrolling through, I fight back a laugh as I see Lana dressed in a full-body racing suit in colors of pink and purple, her helmet resting on her hip with a unicorn horn on it. Behind her is a giant, sparkling, unicorn monster truck painted in pinks, purples, and whites. When I swipe again, there’s a video clip of the car going up and flipping in the air on a dirt mound before landing on all four tires.
“Holy shit! Lana’s in there?” I say, eyes wide, and Rory shifts then watches my phone in similar awe.
“I’m telling you guys, she was born for this. It’s insane. She’s beating all the boys in the rankings.”
“Boys, huh?” I say with a smile.
“Oh, you shouldseethe one Lana has to work with the closest,” Demi says, then starts waving her hand at her face. “An asshole, but fuck, he’s hot.”
“A suspect?” Rory asks, and she shakes her head.
“Target.” I cringe because a case where we’re working closely with a target is always complicated. “A real piece of work, hates that a girl is beating him, thinks he’s too good for the job. He used to be in F1 but never got very far.”
“Oof,” I groan, knowing the type. “Good luck with that one.”
Target cases, where one person is being targeted either physically or emotionally, are some of the hardest to figure out because we have to take human emotions into account. Motivations become blurred when someone is trying to hurt another person. Even more so when you’re trying to protect an asshole like that.
“Yeah, it’s been very entertaining to watch them fight. Okay, done,” she says finally. “Okay, so the car is owned by a…Tanya Renard. Ring a bell?”
I look at Rory, whose eyes are wide.
“No way,” I whisper.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” There’s a knock at the door on Demi’s side, and she stands. “That’s my food. Need anything else? I’ll send you what I’ve got.”
I shake my head, and Rory answers.
“No, that’s it. Thanks, Demi. You’re a godsend.”
“You guys stay safe, okay?” I say.
“You too. Drinks when we’re all done here?”
“I’m begging,” I say. “I’ll call you when we’re home!”
She nods and drops the call, and I turn to Rory, nearly jumping in excitement. Rory, as is her way, has already pulled up the ID cards for the employees, and it becomes even clearer that we’ve found who our arsonist was fighting with. “One of the sabotages before we arrived was in the spa, right?”
I nod. “The irritant in the mud.”
My mind continues to run circles as I attempt to place it into our list, since she obviously could have had access to the spa. She was on our suspect list, but I’ll admit I hadn’t actually thought of her as a viable candidate until recently. A mistake, obviously. But…
“But she wasn’t the one who burned it down,” Rory says.
“She was in the vicinity when it happened, though,” I say with a tip of my head, trying to put the pieces together. “Could her hooking up with Daniel have been some kind of distraction?”