Free Cold in the Shadows 5 by Toni Anderson Page B

supervisor had gone and had tried to beat it out of him. They’d discovered absolutely nothing. The cartel operated on violence and intimidation, but not smarts. They also operated on bribes.
    She’d bet her new BMW Z4 Roadster that the investigation into the student’s death was already written up and the cops had concluded that Dr. Audrey Lockhart was the prime suspect. Poor Audrey, all she’d ever tried to do was beat back the disappointments and tragedies of her life by burying herself in her work. The biologist’s future looked increasingly bleak. So sad. Too bad. Life happened and you adapted. Or died.
    The uniform led her out through the front door and around the side of the low squat building. She maneuvered carefully over the hot, cracked, pitted concrete in her four-inch, black, patent leather pumps.
    He pulled keys from the belt at his side and said something about the weather. She smiled with just the right amount of sparkle. His expression was more relaxed now. Attentive. Interested. All because his Tab A might fit into her Slot B. It was the only form of biology that had ever interested her.
    They approached a large lot filled with cars and boats, surrounded by a ten-foot high chain link fence. The acrid stench of smoke and gasoline tainted the air. A burned-out SUV sat on the back of a flatbed tow truck. The cop swung up inside the cab and started to slowly lower the SUV to the dusty ground. She peered closer as the vehicle dropped to her level. Gas cap was missing. Small pieces of what looked like incinerated paper were stuck inside the pipe. Definitely a torch job. All the interior upholstery had melted away and the inside was a twisted mess of carbonized plastic and steel. Just the skeletal frame of the seats remained. Whoever lit it up had done a good job.
    The car came to rest on the ground with a bump and a groan.
    “Did they find any prints?” she asked when the cop turned off the winch.
    “ Nada . We sent a knife and samples of material covered in what looked like blood to the crime lab but it might not be possible to get DNA.” He shrugged in that sexy arrogant way some Latino men had.
    The blood probably belonged to Lockhart. From the information she’d received Lockhart had miraculously killed one of the cartel’s trained monkeys, but had been stabbed in the process. What Tracey needed to know was the identity of the mysterious white knight who’d ridden to the biologist’s rescue.
    Despite the public cover up, someone was actively investigating Ted Burger’s death—probably someone in the US government. Tracey would be more concerned if it were The Gateway Project, but that shadowy vigilante organization had unexpectedly shut down in December, and the secretive cabal had disbanded without her or her boss learning their true identities. Burger had been pissed by the decision, but he’d also been afraid. She’d enjoyed the look in his eyes when she’d told him The Gateway Project had sent her to exact revenge, but she had no real desire to come to their attention.
    Tracey was smart enough to tread lightly. Once she figured out who was involved, then she’d know where to start looking for Little Miss Lockhart.
    A dead “assassin” suited everyone. Especially her. Tracey had wanted to kill Audrey before this, but her lover hadn’t let her. A mistake. Tracey didn’t like mistakes.
    She eyed the cop up and down. If she couldn’t get what she needed out of this guy she’d have to risk going to the car rental company and try to bluff her way into seeing their records. She took photographs of the vehicle from all angles, and wrote notes on her iPad as he eyed the outline of her flat stomach and full breasts under her business attire.
    She bit her lip and frowned. “I need the vehicle identification number to confirm this is the right car and then I can close the case from my end.” She gestured to her clothes, which were not suited for exploring a burnt out vehicle, and pouted. “I