He shook his head. “We need to talk.”
She unlocked her door. “Ten minutes.”
“Shauna—”
“Sam, I’m done, okay? I get it now. Let the cops do their job. Obviously, Detective Black is taking me seriously now, and that’s all I wanted.”
“I take you seriously, Shauna. We’re going to catch whoever killed Mack and attacked you.”
She knew Sam would try, and perhaps that was all she should expect.
Shauna walked through her too-hot house and turned on the lumbering air-conditioning unit in the dining room. At least one room would be inhabitable. She then went to the back of the house to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. It wasn’t quite cool enough—the refrigerator seemed to work double time to keep everything at 42 degrees rather than 38, but it was better than nothing.
Sam followed her. “This place is amazing.”
A smile escaped. “I think so. It’s going to take me a while to do what I want with it. And I’m not going to half-ass anything. I know what I want, and I’m going to do it right the first time.”
“You’ve always known what you want.” He nodded toward the refrigerator. “Can I have one too?”
“If you can drink it in eight minutes. Because that’s all you have left.” Shauna handed him a bottle then went to the dining room and stood in front of the monster of an air conditioning unit. The dining room was more a dining hall, and she used half of it for her small square table and the other half was arranged as a living area because it was the coolest room in the house. “Can you believe someone cut into the wall to put this unit in? I can’t wait until I can afford central air.”
She sat in the over-stuffed chair and put her feet on the ottoman. Sam perched on the edge of the sofa across from her. “Are you really okay?” he asked.
“Yes. Sore, embarrassed, angry. And worried.”
Sam frowned. “About the guy coming after you? I won’t let that happen.”
“I’m not worried about him coming after me. He doesn’t care about me. He cares about whatever he was looking for.”
“Shauna, everything about this case, on the surface, connects to the rash of robberies downtown. However, this break-in tells us there’s something more to Mack’s murder than what’s on the surface. We’re digging deeper into Mack’s life—you might not like what we find.”
“If we find his killer, I can handle anything else.”
“We? You mean Sac PD.”
“Of course.” Sam looked at her with skepticism, and Shauna said, “I get it, Sam. I’m not a cop. You’re the cop. You do your job. I’ll do mine. Which is not being a cop.”
He grinned at her. “I’m glad you have our roles figured out. And now that I know you’re better, run me through what happened today at Mack’s apartment.
Shauna went through it all again, though she’d told Sam and John most everything she remembered when they were at the apartment.
“The beer is gone—the bottles and the carton in the refrigerator,” Sam said. “You said there was a receipt. Do you remember which store?”
She thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “Yes! Natomas Fast Gas, which is right at the freeway exit, time stamped Saturday just after midnight. Mack would have gotten off work at one in the morning, later if it was really busy, so he didn’t buy it.”
“You don’t know for certain—”
“It’s easy to check. Mack would have run the cash receipts on the register. That’ll be time-stamped.”
“Let’s assume someone else brought the beer,” Sam asked. “Does Mack have a girlfriend?”
“Not that I know of.”
“That’s most likely.”
Shauna agreed, but said, “I don’t think it was a girlfriend. It was a man who tied me up, and he’s the one who took the beer.”
“We can run it down.”
Sam took a long drink of his beer and tried not to stare at Shauna. Shauna was calm, she even seemed to be warming to him. He wasn’t going to hold out hope that he could undo the damage he’d inflicted two years ago when she came to him—but he really wanted to turn back the clock and take back everything he’d said. He was free, she was free, he was back in Sacramento, she wasn’t going anywhere.
Don’t go there, Garcia.
He just wanted to keep the peace. Be friends. He didn’t want this tension between them. It was going to give him an ulcer.
“I know it, um, was awkward when, um, I left Sacramento.”
“Awkward?”
“We’ve been friends for a long time.”