The Little Grave (Detective Amanda Steele)

“Look in the clasp.” She’d put it back there for safekeeping.

“All righty.” Jacob worked the bracelet. “Aaaah. Here we go.” He grinned at her, then proceeded to hold the chip to the light. “Tiny little thing.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping you have something that you can stick it in to find out what’s on it.”

“You’ve always had such a way with words. But, yeah, I have something I can stick it in.”

He dropped into his chair and pulled out a laptop. He pointed to a small port on the side. “It should fit in there nicely.” He powered up the computer and put the chip into the port he’d indicated. “We should know in just a— Oh.”

“What?” She moved around to get a better view of the laptop screen. A pop-up window asked for the administrator password. “That can’t be good.”

“Whatever’s on there, someone took great lengths to protect it. I’ve seen this before, and sometimes I can hack in, but—” He paused and winced. “I hate to say it, but you’re going to have to leave this with me.”

“Can you just give it a go with me here? I’m not in a hurry.” Her curiosity trumped her exhaustion as her mind played over the possibilities. Maybe it contained a tracking and inventory of stolen goods.

“I can, but I can’t make any promises.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “If anyone can crack this thing, it’s you.”

“I appreciate your confidence, but I suggest you get comfortable. Maybe even get yourself a coffee. I might be a—”

Her phone rang. “Sorry, just one second,” she said to Jacob. Her caller ID read, Tipsy Moose. “I have to get this.”

“Take your time. I’m going to be a while likely.” Jacob pulled a book out of a drawer and flipped its pages as she answered her phone.

“This is Amanda.”

“Hey. Your boyfriend just showed up.”

Her heartbeat tapped a little faster at the thought of seeing Motel Guy again. It would have been far easier if she didn’t have to. After all, that would mean no complications, entanglements, or explanations.

“You there?” her caller prompted.

“I am. Ah, thanks.”

“Uh-huh. You coming?”

She looked at Jacob who was now chewing on a pencil, tapping his foot, and clicking on the keyboard, lines of code on the screen.

“I’ll be right there.” She hung up. “I’ve got to go somewhere,” she told Jacob, who carried on being Jacob.

Amanda spotted Motel Guy’s black Dodge Ram in the Tipsy Moose’s parking lot and parked a few slots away.

She undid her seat belt and it caught on her badge.

Can’t be taking you in there with me, she thought, and unclipped it and put it in the glove box, along with her Glock and holster.

Inside, she spotted the bartender from earlier in the day. He pointed across the room, and she followed the direction of his finger. Motel Guy was in a booth, drinking alone.

Thanks, she mouthed to the tender. She smoothed a hand over her hair and headed over.

She slipped in across from Motel Guy. Suddenly she found her heart was pounding and she felt self-conscious. Her face would be a mess of freckles thanks to her Scottish lineage, but it wasn’t like she’d had time to refresh her makeup before coming here. Besides, she wasn’t here to pick the guy up again—she just needed him to provide a little statement to her boss.

Motel Guy looked up, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. Shock followed by a flash of irritation. “What are you doing here?” He turned his rocks glass in his hand.

She gestured toward his drink. “No beer tonight?”

“Are you stalking me?”