“In homeroom, she seems annoyed to be there. But I’ve heard she likes to challenge her teachers and say fuck a lot.”
Cooper couldn’t stop his laugh.
“I know. But a lot of the teachers get up in their ass about those things.”
“Seems stupid to treat seventeen-year-olds like they’re five.”
“Hard habit for many teachers to break, I’m afraid.”
“I see Claire hanging around Sean Fisher. Anything you can share about him?”
Leo shook his head as if he had plenty to say. “Sean’s parents are both in the business . . .”
“Hollywood?”
Leo’s nod was the answer. “His parents are uninvolved. Plenty of rumors on campus that if there was a drug you wanted, he could help with that. I had a conversation with his mother early in the year. I hinted about drugs . . . Her response was that ‘pot is legal now’.”
“Ouch.”
“I know.”
“I have him in my auto class, he doesn’t appear strung out on anything to me.”
“He’s had plenty of Mondays where he doesn’t get to school on time. I think he cleaned up a little after the holidays. Hard to tell. His grades are marginal, reminds me that his parents didn’t go to college and they do just fine.”
“Maybe Claire will have a good influence on him. I don’t see her as the party type.”
Leo laughed. “Oh, she parties. I guarantee it. Let’s just hope she sticks with the simple shit and Ubers. There’s a safe ride program with the school, too.”
“How often is that used?”
“Not as much as it should be.” Leo looked around the field. “Sports help, so I’m glad Claire is here.”
The buzz in Cooper’s pocket distracted him. A glance at his home screen said Claire was on her way. “I’ll talk with Claire. We don’t want to see her dropping track.”
“Is she really that good?”
“I’m new to coaching, but Bennett thinks she’s a contender for state.”
Leo held out his hand. “Let’s use that to keep her focused.”
“Great talking to you,” Cooper said.
“We should grab a beer sometime. I have a few of your kids, would like to know what makes them tick. Maybe direct them toward trade schools.”
Cooper nodded. “That would be great. We’ll hit happy hour.”
“Next Thursday?”
The kids started running their warm-up laps. “You’re on.”
Cooper waved as Leo walked away and moved to where the kids dropped their backpacks. It wasn’t long before Claire showed up.
He walked up, ignored how good she looked in her running shorts and tank top. “Did you get what you wanted?”
She dropped her backpack next to the others, lifted one leg up on the short fence, and stretched over it. “I got in. Now I need your computer to funnel the details out of the intranet and into my home computer.”
“We can do that. Not sure why. The man seems legit. Worried you’re searching for drama and will get lost.”
“I think he’s our mole.”
“Warren’s man?”
Claire switched legs. “Think so. I sincerely doubt he knows we’re here. I won’t know for sure until we can do some recon.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Cooper said, looking behind him.
Claire stopped stretching, turned to him, and smiled.
She had the most expressive eyes. Coral blue with long lashes. Cooper’s chest pulled, and he dropped his gaze.
She started to walk away.
Not really thinking, he reached out and grasped her arm. For a second, he just looked at where he touched her before meeting her eyes again. His mind never moved far from the Saturday meeting, and since then they’d only been polite or talked exclusively about the case. “I think we should talk,” he whispered.
Her smile slowly melted and her eyes drifted closed. “I think so, too.”
Cooper’s neck tingled and he dropped his hand, looked around. He saw Leo Eastman turning in the direction of the parking lot and walking away.
“Not here,” he said.
She pulled one knee into her chest and then the other. “Of course not.”
He watched her as she jogged away and caught up with the kids running the track.
Now what the hell was he going to say?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Claire and Jax roamed around the decoy apartment set up by Lars.
It was perfect. It looked like a bachelor pad attempting to be a family home. Hard surfaces of glass and fake leather. A big-screen TV. No real knickknacks. No family photos. The kitchen had essentials, and someone had brewed a pot of coffee and left half the coffee in the pot and grounds in the filter. Lars must have gone through the effort of making a meal and leaving the mess. Even the dish towels were stained.
“Make sure you know where everything is in the kitchen,” Claire said, opening and closing the cupboards and looking for herself.
Jax started to laugh. “Even the dishes are chipped. Well done, guys.” Her words were meant for whoever was at headquarters listening in on the conversation.
Claire meandered into Jax’s fake bedroom, flipped back the blankets on the bed, jumped inside, tossed and turned, then kicked the sheets away. In the bathroom she brushed her hair and pulled what was left in the brush free and dropped it in the wastebasket. After that she pulled away a few tissues, blotted her lipstick, and tossed that away, too. Under the sink she found the usual suspects . . . tampons, extra toilet paper, and acne cleansers and creams.
Jax walked past her and emptied a plastic bag full of dirty clothes in the corner of the room. Next was a handful of cosmetics she no longer used and a vanity mirror. She sat at the pretend desk, rifled through them. “Looks like they thought of almost everything,” Jax said.
Even the dresser had clothes tossed in with no apparent order. A closer look might clue in a detective that the style didn’t exactly match Jax, but a glance would certainly pass as teenage crap. “I bet Neil took a picture of Emma’s room and told Lars to match it.” As Claire spoke, she looked up at the camera that was disguised as a smoke alarm. “You did, didn’t you?”
The camera didn’t answer back.
Then again, there was no guarantee Neil was on the other end. Cooper, on the other hand, was likely there watching.
The doorbell to the apartment rang.
Jax turned Claire’s direction. “Someone is early.”
“Probably the pizza.”
Jax jumped up and hustled down the hall.
As she did, Claire tossed the bags they’d brought stuff from home in into the trash.
“It’s the pizza,” Jax yelled from the living room.
A peek in Lars’s so-called bedroom confirmed that the setup was pretty complete. A bedside drawer check was missing one thing. “A man might have condoms,” she said for the cameras.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
A text message from the office stated, A man with new custody of his teenage daughter isn’t having sex in his own bed.
She laughed. “Good point.”
And even though she didn’t like where her thoughts led, she wondered if Cooper was the one responding. The second thought was . . . Did he have condoms next to his?