Holding Out for a Fairy Tale (4 page)

“She’s family….” Ray gasped, clawing at Elliot’s forearm. “And I refuse to let anyone talk about her like she’s dead….”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “Yeah, try another one. A family liaison officer has already contacted her next of kin.”

“She’s my cousin…. Hates her family…. My sister and I practically raised her….”

Elliot eased up the pressure on Ray’s neck.

“Me and Carmen are the ones listed as her emergency contacts with the college, and I paid most of her fucking tuition this term!”

“You can’t seriously expect me to believe that?” Elliot growled. “There is no chance in hell you’re her family. No one in her family would ever be able to pass the background check necessary to become a cop. Why don’t you tell me what you’re actually doing here?”

“You’d be surprised what the San Diego PD will overlook if you’re totally honest about it. No one in my immediate family has ever gotten into trouble, so the fact that my grandma’s brothers are sociopaths didn’t mean I was automatically disqualified. Even so, I had to spend the first eight years of my career chasing around my own cousin’s enforcers, with a supervisor ready to call Internal Affairs on me if I so much as bought a new car because of my family! I’ve never had anything to do with them and neither has Sophie! But that doesn’t mean the crap they’re into can’t hurt her. Hell, it doesn’t mean her own brother wouldn’t hurt her, and if he’s decided to, I’m the only one who can do shit about it!” Ray kicked against the door and pulled harder against Elliot’s arm. “Would you put me down?”

Elliot leaned in close and smirked. “On one condition.”

Ray cocked an eyebrow at him. “Tonight?”

Elliot sneered and dropped Ray, stalking away. “Go home. I’ll add you to the family liaison officer’s contact list. Stay the fuck away from me.”

“No!” Ray shouted behind him. “You don’t understand. I have to find her. If I don’t, her brother is going to use her disappearance to start a fight, and when he starts fights, people die.”

Elliot stopped and stared down at the dark hand on his arm. This was a far cry from the cool, intelligent, and supremely confident man Elliot remembered. This man was sincerely afraid. He was keeping his voice down and his tone casual, but Elliot could hear the barely concealed tremors that accompanied his words. Elliot sighed and jerked his arm out of Ray’s grasp. “Don’t touch me. And she is a Munoz. She’s the great niece of the founders of the Tijuana drug cartel.”

“It’s a big family. She’s one of three hundred great nieces and nephews living in the United States. You think every single one of us makes a living by cutting people into little chunks and letting them dissolve in barrels of lye? Because assuming we’re all like her brother Alejandro really isn’t fair.”

“That….” Elliot turned away, hoping Ray wouldn’t be able see the disgust on his face.

“
That’s
why I need to find her. Look, you know I’m good at this. And I’d bet a thousand dollars that I know San Diego better than you do. Let me help you! At least tell me if you think she’s all right?”

“Do you think she’s all right?” Elliot asked, regretting it instantly.

“Yes,” Ray said. “She had a set of matched luggage. It’s gone, along with half of her clothes. Everything else is still folded or on hangers, and the laundry basket is empty, so she packed, and she wasn’t rushed about it. Her makeup bag, toiletries, and laptop are gone too. Since you’re treating it like a crime scene, I’m guessing you didn’t go through and tidy up.”

“Duh.” Elliot rolled his eyes. He stalked out of the residence-hall suite and then stopped in the open stairwell as his brain finally pieced together the last five minutes. When Ray had been asking what made the room a crime scene, he might not have been being a condescending asshole after all. He had been terrified that his cousin had been killed or injured there. With Ray Delgado it was very hard to tell when he was actually insulting you and when he was hiding his own insecurities behind insults. Elliot had seen Ray Delgado do both, when Ray was coming to terms with the fact that the love of his life was in love with someone else. Elliot sighed and started down the stairs. “If I leave you alone, you’re just going to keep digging on this, aren’t you?”

“Yes. It’s not obstruction to look for a missing member of your family, is it? I was planning on talking to her professors today and her friends if I can track them down. If you’re asking if I’ll share information with you, I’d have to say that really depends. If you’re just here to nail Alejandro Munoz and not to find Sophie, then I’m not sharing shit with you. How are you handling this case?”

“I’m looking for Sophie Munoz,” said Elliot.

“Then give me your number, and I’ll call you after I ask around.”

Elliot sighed. He should have known Ray Delgado would take his question to mean that he wanted access to Ray’s information, rather than as an offer to let Ray have access to his own. The last of Elliot’s cases Ray Delgado had insinuated himself into had been a disturbing mess in which a murderer and pedophile had kidnapped and nearly killed Ray’s partner. It had taken Ray Delgado a few hours to assess the situation and find them, in a town he’d never been to, with nothing more than a cell phone. Elliot had been in charge of an entire team of federal agents, with search teams, tactical units, satellite uplinks, and helicopters—and Delgado had beaten him to it with a cell phone.

Elliot didn’t particularly like him, and he didn’t want him interfering, but he also didn’t want to walk into the federal building Monday morning and find out that Ray Delgado had once again swept an entire case out from under him over the weekend. This was his first case since being assigned to the East County Gang Task Force, and if he didn’t make a good impression, the six-year assignment he was promised would probably be over in a year. Then he’d have to move on, again. He was getting too old to deal with transferring between field offices every year, no matter how much it had helped advance his career.

He sighed. “Look, I’m going to talk to the professor who filed the initial report on your cousin. He’s been a pain in the ass to get hold of, so I haven’t gotten a chance to interview him yet. You can tag along if you promise to keep your mouth shut and not interfere, agreed?”

Ray’s eyes narrowed, obviously suspicious. “My lips are sealed. I was wondering about this guy anyway.”

Elliot led the way across the enormous campus.

Despite agreeing to be quiet, Ray kept talking. “I mean, Carmen just figured Sophie was busy with classes the last few weeks, and I don’t expect to see her outside of special occasions. I know she’s got to have a social life. She’s got friends, a boyfriend, hobbies, all that shit. I can’t figure out why none of them would have reported her missing, but one of her professors did.”

Elliot slowed his pace down so he’d have time to properly dissect Ray’s concerns. “Who’s Carmen?”

“My sister.”

“Hmm. Are you so sure that your cousin had a lot of friends?”

Ray began to nod and then stopped, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, no. I know she had a boyfriend, though. I had to babysit while she and my sister went dress shopping the week before her birthday. Apparently he’s romantic.”

Elliot froze, his focus on the case shattered by his own imagination conjuring a picture of Ray being tackled by a dozen squealing children. It was cute and disturbing at the same time. “You babysit?”

“When I have time.” Ray nodded and pulled out his cell phone. He swiped his finger across the screen and showed Elliot a picture of the victim and three young children. They were ridiculously cute. “That’s from just after Jose’s second birthday. Family is still important to me, even if most of them hate me.”

Elliot caught himself smiling at the picture and stopped. “If she did have a boyfriend, she might have told him where she was going. There’s no reason to call the police if he knows she’s fine.” Elliot doubted she had a boyfriend, though, or that she had as many friends in real life as Ray believed. Despite her continuous presence on social-media websites, he hadn’t been able to track down many people in the real world who recognized her from a photograph, including her neighbors in the residence hall and other students in her classes.

Elliot turned to cross the main commons, heading toward an enormous building that looked like it belonged in the downtown business district, or maybe in a futuristic science-fiction city, rather than on a university. When Elliot stopped to stare at the building directory, Ray took the lead. “Come on.”

“How the hell do you know where
I’m
going?” Elliot raced to catch up to him.

“Sophie is studying computer engineering. I studied computer science. It’s not like they’ve moved the entire department. Which professor are you looking for?”

“Computer science?” Elliot gaped at him. “Really?”

“What, you think I can’t do computer science?”

“But you went into law enforcement?”

Ray shook his head dismissively. “The guys on my team who are always whiny little dicks when I blow their success rates out of the water were the ones who majored in criminal justice. You know the thing about people who are intelligent enough to succeed in college majors that require calculus instead of just a passing grade in algebra? They’re generally intelligent enough to succeed in damn near anything. Which professor?”

Elliot shook his head and smirked. “Holland. Nathanial Holland.”

Ray’s eyes drew together. “She’s talked about him. I’ve never met him, but his office will be on the third floor.” He charged up the stairs, then stopped and stared down at Elliot. “Oh, hell no. I know that trick. You’re not falling behind me just so you can watch my ass all the way up the stairs.”

Elliot jogged up the stairs. “Not interested in your ass, Delgado.”

Elliot hurried up five more steps. When he didn’t hear Ray’s footsteps behind him, he stopped and glanced back down the stairs. Ray was grinning up at him like he was edible. “What? I never said it was a
bad
trick. Go on….” Ray gestured up the stairs.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re just as annoying as ever.”

Elliot ignored him all the way to the open office door. Inside, a younger-looking man in a pair of blue jeans and a sweater was glued to a computer monitor, typing so fast that his fingers were a blur.

“Dr. Holland?’ Elliot rapped his knuckles on the wall by the door.

“My office hours are on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” The man didn’t even break the rhythm of his typing.

Elliot shoved the door open, not really caring about the stacks of books he was knocking over in the process. “Mr. Holland?” Elliot dropped the honorific and barged in the rest of the way. “I’m Special Agent Elliot Belkamp, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

The typing stopped instantly. The man glanced up and pulled a pair of plastic-rimmed glasses off. He looked so young it caught Elliot off guard. The man was younger than him. He had neatly trimmed short brown hair in a style that would have looked appropriate on an old politician, and he was good-looking.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” He stood up and held out his hand. “I’ve usually got a steady line of students waiting outside the door. Please, come in, come in. Sorry for the cramped quarters,” Professor Holland quickly moved stacks of books off the rickety wooden chairs beside his desk. “All of the big offices go to tenure-track professors.”

Dr. Holland looked around the cluttered shelves lining each wall, then set the stack of books down on top of another stack on the floor. He moved more books off a large black coffee pot. “Coffee? It’s fresh.” He found a stack of disposable cups and poured them each some before Elliot could refuse. “I don’t have cream, but I’ve got sugar. Somewhere.” He moved more books still and found a plastic bag filled with a mixture of tiny sugar and sweetener packets.

“No thank you.” Elliot sat down and motioned for Dr. Holland to return to his chair.

“Again, I’m sorry for the lack of space. But you know what they say
—
everyone’s got to pay their dues….” Dr. Holland sat down and gripped the arms of his chair. His fingers clung to the faded wood so hard that his knuckles were white. “What can I do for you, Special Agent Belkamp?”

“We’re here to ask about the last time you saw Sophie Munoz.” Elliot pulled out a small notepad.

“You are? The FBI, not the police? It was the police department I called.”

“It’s a joint effort with the local police department. Can you tell us about her? About the last time you recall seeing her?”

“Sophie….” A blush crept up the professor’s cheeks before he continued. “Sophie is one of my brightest students. She’s a brilliant young lady. She’s in my Artificial Intelligence and Advanced Network Security classes. She’s been in my classes for two years now. She’s always my best student.”

“Artificial intelligence?” Elliot prodded.

The professor smirked. “I know what it sounds like, but we’re not making giant robots set to go on a rampage or anything like that. It’s working with algorithms that can analyze new and unknown problems, run projections based upon a list of variables, sometimes through an enormous series of variables, and then decide on a solution to the problem.”

“Huh….” Elliot jotted down the names of the classes. “Sounds complicated.”

“Most things in this field are. But not for a programmer of Sophie’s caliber.”

“She enjoys your classes, too,” Ray cut in. “She told me a bit about her project—a control system for unmanned navigation. Basically, an onboard remote control that can navigate a toy car and video camera over an unpredictable landscape, mapping out its path as it goes. It could be used in bigger vehicles, too, like a fully armed Hummer. If it gets to an obstacle it can’t find a way around, it backtracks and takes another path.”

“That’s right!” Dr. Holland smiled brightly. “The program can be adapted to just about anything. Military applications, space travel, toys, evolving encryption systems…. I told her that once it was debugged she could walk into a job with any of a dozen different defense contractors, no matter what those national security yahoos said.” Dr. Holland froze, his mouth still open and poised to continue. “How do you know Sophie?”