Page 3 of Twin Threats In Austin
“Mail fraud and identity theft,” he said. “If you want to talk to my guy before we serve my warrant, I’m coming with you. I know where he lives.”
“Which is?” she asked.
“East Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard and Springdale area,” he said. “Sentinel Apartments. Number three.”
Rochelle looked into the most mesmerizing pair of clear, Caribbean-blue eyes framed by a set of the thickest, blackest lashes that would make most women envious. It would be impossible to turn down those baby blues.
Camden Remington was seriously hot—so much so that he made everyday things like coming up with a well-thought-out response to the simplest question feel next to impossible. He caused her throat to dry up and her cheeks to flush the second their gazes touched. What the hell? Was she suddenly fifteen and talking to the high-school quarterback again?
The marshal was around six-three with a frame filled out with just the right amount of long, lean muscle. Camo pants hung on hips attached to a torso that formed an improbableV. Feeling an attraction wouldn’t be unprofessional. Acting on one, on the other hand, would.
Rochelle gave a mental headshake and refocused. “Let’s go for a ride then since you know where we’re going.”
Camden circled the vehicle and then climbed into the passenger seat of her SUV.
“Does this perp have a name?” she asked.
“Kage Durham,” he supplied.
Camden might notbelieve in luck, but he believed in good timing. Approaching the detective’s service vehicle as she’d waited for him in the parking lot of the Austin PD substation had been just the right moment. He’d been meaning to check up on Kage while in town. This gave him a good reason to show up unexpectedly and question the man Camden was certain had been involved in more serious crimes.
Still, mail fraud and identity theft were a far cry from kidnapping charges. The man in the grainy video resembled Kage,andthe man lived nearby. That didn’t make the ex-con guilty, but the surveillance footage painted a picture. Kage was most likely the last person who’d seen Justina before her abduction.
“How do you know the suspect?” Rochelle, a stunning redhead if ever there was one, asked. The detective had all the features he loved—doe eyes, pink, heart-shaped and extremely kissable mouth, and long red hair tied back in a ponytail. There was an intensity about her that made him want to get to know her and dive into what brought out that serious line that was etched into her forehead—a line that shouldn’t be sexy but was.
Camden guessed the detective was in her early thirties, very early. Which meant she was also very focused on her career to have made detective so soon.
“Durham swore he was innocent.”
“Don’t they all?” she quipped.
“That’s the truth,” he muttered with a nod.
“You have a perp who was recently released and now we have three missing persons in a matter of weeks,” she said with a sharp sigh. “Which means he got busy immediately after his release—if this is our guy.”
“Maybe he was making up for lost time,” Camden reflected.
“Maybe,” she echoed.
“Let me see if I understand the current situation correctly,” he began after reviewing the report a second time. This round, he looked for any additional clues Kage could be the perp.
Rochelle nodded as she turned onto East Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard.
“The victim was last seen walking out of a nightclub with a man who resembles my felon, but all we have to prove it so far is grainy surveillance video.” It wasn’t much to go on and wasn’t nearly enough to even think about getting a warrant to search Kage’s apartment. Plus, Kage was smart and cunning enough not to bring a kidnapping victim to his apartment. The man had struck Camden as maybe a little too smart for his own good. Smart criminals got away with murder. Smart criminals repeated their behavior. Smart criminals were the serial killers who evaded suspicion for too many years.
Something about Kage had gnawed away at the back of Camden’s mind for years.
“That’s correct, sir,” Rochelle said.
“Camden,” he reminded her.
“Then call me Rochelle,” she offered. “Please.”
“Will do, Rochelle,” he said before refocusing on the grainy image that could be Kage. The guy in the photo was a decent size, roughly six feet tall and built. He appeared more muscular than Camden remembered Kage being, but jail time in a federal prison could do that to a person. With nothing else to do, inmates worked out in the yard, bulking up. Plus, pictures could be deceiving, distorting a person, object, or thing based on perspective.
Camden wanted to get eyes on Kage.
Rochelle pulled into a parking spot in the one-story, run-down apartment complex.Apartment home, Camden corrected. He’d been schooled on the new terminology while talking to a leasing agent a couple of weeks ago. The new term didn’t quite fit with what looked like a roach-infested dwelling.
