She seemed to measure his words. “I guess you’d have to be perceptive about human emotions if you want to take good photographs ofpeople.”
“When I shot you standing next to the barricade tape, your emotions were right there on your face. You were angry at me and afraid for your friend—not for yourself, but for him. I knew right away that you care about what happens to him. If you had kidnapped or killed him, you’d have been self-conscious, afraid of being seen, closed off. The last person you would have confronted was aphotojournalist.”
Mia seemed to relax. “It’s nice to know someone believesme.”
Then he told her what he’d been thinking ever since Darcangelo and Hunter had told him about the wood chipper. “The way all of this has gone down—him disappearing right after you were at his place, the bloody towels, bath mat, and driver’s license turning up where you work. What if someone wanted to get rid of Andy and pin it onyou?”
* * *
Chills skittereddown Mia’s spine, Joaquin’s words bringing the big picture into focus, making her see her situation in a way she hadn’t before. “What?”
Why hadn’t she thought ofthat?
She’d been too upset by Andy’s disappearance and too distracted by the fear of possibly losing a job she loved to put the piecestogether.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to scareyou.”
“I’m not scared.” That wasn’t entirely true. The idea that someone might be trying to frame her was unnerving, but two deployments had taught Mia to control her fear. “I’mangry. Why would anyone dothis?”
“In my experience, bad people don’t need a reason to do bad shit, but this seems personal to me. Did Andy have any enemies, people who’d like to see you introuble?”
Mia thought about it. “I haven’t been in close enough contact with him to know whether he hasenemies.”
“It would have to be someone who knows both ofyou.”
“Well,thatnarrows it down.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “There were two hundred soldiers in our company at any given time and nineteen in Andy’s platoon besides him. People came and went. We’re talking about maybe three hundredsoldiers.”
“How many of them live inColorado?”
“I don’t know.” Mia looked over at Joaquin. “Maybe you should be a detective. You think likeone.”
He grinned. “Nah, man, I think like an investigativejournalist.”
“What’s the difference between an investigative journalist and an ordinary reporter?” Mia honestly had noclue.
“Investigative reporters don’t just report the news. They get out there and find the news. While a reporter might cover the City Council meeting and tell our readers what happened, an investigative reporter is digging through City Council’s paper trail, looking for anything that might expose corruption. The I-Team—the Investigative Team—they’re the newspaper’s rockstars.”
“I’ve heard of the I-Team. Are you part ofit?”
He nodded, the pride he felt in his work showing in his smile. “I’m their shooter, though I sometimes get stuck doing GA work—general assignment—like the other night when I metyou.”
Regret stabbed at Mia. “I was rude to you that night. I’msorry.”
“Apology accepted.” He turned into the parking lot of a restaurant named Aztlán. “Oh, man, this place is packedtonight.”
Joaquin parked and then pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his parka and typed in a text message. “I’m letting Mateo know we’rehere.”
When the message was sent, they walked inside to find the front lobby crowded with people waiting fortables.
“This place must be good.” Mia glanced around at the Mexican décor—rustic pottery, colorful floor tiles, adobe walls. “We should get our names on thewaitlist.”
Joaquin chuckled, his hand touching the small of her back as they moved through the crowd. “To hell with thewaitlist.”
“Quino!” A man wearing gray trousers with a white shirt, gray vest, and bright yellow tie made his way toward them, a big smile on his face. He looked so much like Joaquin that he might have been his olderbrother.
He embraced Joaquin, the two of them speaking inSpanish.
Then Mateo turned to Mia, still smiling. “So, it takes a date with a beautiful woman to bring you through my doors,cousin?”