He was surprised he had the words at all. The way she looked at that moment had practically robbed him of breath.
Bailey was made for blue.
And she'd been poured into that dress.
That damned Kurtland Chase was standing too close. He had his hand on Bailey's pale, smooth shoulder. Chase was proud to be with her, it was in the way the other man was standing. The way he was looking at Bailey.
She’d straightened her blond hair, and it hung loose and almost to her waist. It practically glowed in the low light of the dining room.
She looked hot, young, expensive, and perfect.
And she was with one of the wealthiest men in the county.
Clay wanted to deck the guy.
"Eyeballs back in, Clay," Powell said. "I don't think that's your date today."
He turned toward his lone female cousin. "That's my deputy."
"Is she really yours, sweetie?" There was humor in Powell's brown eyes. At his expense. But there was sympathy.
"It’s Bailey. My deputy."
"Of course. I thought I recognized her from the news. You going to go over and say hello?"
"No." If he got too close to her, he would make a total fool of himself.
"You really are sitting here pining over that woman, aren't you?" Powell asked softly. "Does she know how you feel?"
He'd always been close to this particular cousin, though she was six years younger than he was. Powell was an extremely empathetic woman. Mischievous, but empathetic. "No."
"You want her to? She serious about him?"
"First date, as far as I know."
"A word of advice. If you want her, let her know. Time is too short to waste it being afraid."
Chapter 36
Bailey enjoyed herself. Kurt was fun. Charming. Handsome. All of those things, and he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. By the halfway through lunch she was laughing like she hadn't laughed in a long time.
"I’m glad you finally agreed to give me a chance.” He smiled and toyed with her fingers.
Bailey allowed it. “A chance?”
“You know. To show you that I’m just a nice guy.”
“Sheep in wolf’s clothing?”
“Exactly.” He leaned forward, his hand covering hers more fully. He had a wicked look in his eyes. “Don’t look now, but you have an admirer over there.”
Bailey pulled her fingers free and used them to grab her spoon. The soup at the Barratt was beyond delicious. “I know.”
She’d practically felt his eyes when she’d walked in.
Kurt’s lips quirked. “You do?”
“I saw the sheriff when we walked in. I knew he had the day off, but not that he’d be here.”
Just her luck.
“He’s surrounded by Barratts.”
“He is a Barratt. On his mother’s side.” She sent a level look at her date. She was there to spend time with Kurt. Not worry about Clayton Barratt Addy. She’d had enough of that last night when she’d lain awake in her bed. Replaying his every action before he’d left. He’d been going to kiss her before Bert’s interruption. Bailey was almost completely convinced of that. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just the sheriff.”
“I think it matters to him. He’s looking at us. Glaring at us.”
“So? Sheriff Addy is always looking at people. It’s irritating.” She was not going to let Clay ruin her date. She’d made that vow to herself around three a.m. Clay wasn’t going to stop her from living her life. Not even for a moment. “He’s irritating.”
“He was two years ahead of me in high school. Irritating then, too.”
Bailey would have been six years behind Kurt, then. It was a small school system. She’d been aware of them, even though they’d been older.
It just worked that way in Value. She leaned in closer. He mimicked the move like she’d suspected he would. “Kurt, if you ever want more than one date with me, we need to change the subject right now. Today is my first day off in I don’t know how many days. I really don’t want to talk about my boss.”
“Yes, ma’am. So what would you like to talk about? Do you know that blue is my favorite color?” He leered comically at her dress. “Especially that blue.”
Bailey laughed. Kurt hid his goofy spirit behind the facade of ruthless businessman rancher. But it slipped out with her sometimes. He was a hard worker, but he knew how to enjoy life.
Bailey really enjoyed being with him. Like she did Jake. But as she stood, and Kurt took her elbow, her eyes met another man’s.
Clay was watching them. And he wasn’t happy.
Bailey put her chin up and turned toward Kurt. Clay was not going to take the joy today was bringing her away.
“That’s a good girl. Don’t let him see that what he thinks matters.” Kurt whispered the words in her ear.
Bailey turned toward him. If he lowered his head, they’d be kissing, right there in the midst of the Barratt. “What?”
“The thing with men like the sheriff, Bailey...they want what they think they can’t have. Or what they think a rival has. Me, I make a good rival for the good ol’ sheriff.”
“But you’re not a rival of the sheriff. He has no interest in anyone I date.”
“Then why is he glaring at me like he’s about to set my skivvies on fire just because I’m close enough to see the freckles on your...nose? We can give him a show, if you’d like?” His hand was on her shoulder and he shifted her a little closer.
Bailey smirked up at him, knowing exactly what he was implying. This man was the kind who could make a sane woman do some really stupid things, no doubt. With just one smile. “I think you’re insane, Kurt. Clay doesn’t think of me that way at all. He just...doesn’t want me in his post. That’s all.”
“Why would he feel that way?”
“I’m not certain. I think it originally had to do with who my father was. And it evolved. But I’m dealing.”
“Honey, you shouldn’t have to. You deserve a man who treats you like the queen you no doubt are. I’m willing to play peon to your queen, if you’d like.”
“No. But I am. What doesn’t kill me will only make me stronger, right? Anyway. Let’s get out of here. Clay’s staring again.”
“Of course, he is. Poor guy is snarling at me.” Kurt dropped his hand to her waist and pulled her ridiculously close while they walked out of the hotel. “I have the lady he wants to cuddle.”
Bailey could practically feel Clay’s eyes on her as they did. “No. Even if he did, Clay wouldn’t ever even try.”
“That’s because you terrify the shit out of that man, baby. And in that blue dress I can totally see why.”
***
Clay watched as that bastard Chase guided Bailey out of the restaurant, one hand riding low on that blue silk. He fought an actual urge to growl and go after them.
And say what? That Bailey had no business being with Chase, especially looking like that? That wouldn’t go down too well.
He had no right to tell her that, either. Not without giving her a damned good reason why he didn’t want some other guy with his hands on her.
Clay’s own fists tightened. His cousins Turner and Mac walked at his sides. Turner was making noise about some ending gang initiative he was trying to implement in his town—Turner was the mayor of Finley Creek—but Clay wasn’t paying attention.
He hadn’t since Chase and Bailey had first stood to leave.
It was just bad luck that he and his cousins were twenty seconds behind them.
He could see every move they made.
Bailey had apparently driven herself to the hotel; smart move. A woman was vulnerable when she rode with a man. Bailey know doubt knew that. Having her own car meant she was in control of when and how she left.
Chase walked her to the little green Ford.
Then Clay watched as the other man leaned down and kissed her.
And Bailey didn’t push him away.
***
Baile
y knew exactly what Kurt was doing. He was baiting the bull. She hadn’t missed the tall, dark, and handsome gaggle of Barratt men who had walked out of the hotel behind them. Clay and his cousins were...memorable. And Clay was watching. Her.
“Just play along. It’s always fun to yank a man like Addy’s chains,” Kurt whispered in her ear. His fingers splayed over her back.
They were warm, but there was nothing there. None of that special spark. Not at all like she’d felt the first time Clay had accidentally brushed against her.
There was just nothing there.
But...he was right. If Clay was going to continue to stare at her, Bailey was going to give him a show. “At least make it look realistic. You do know how to kiss, don’t you?”
He laughed. Wicked.
Then he kissed her.
It was all Bailey could do not to burst out laughing. She made it about thirty seconds of kissing him before she had to pull away. Kurt was half blowing raspberries near her ear. His lips had only met hers for a fraction of a second. The guy was all show; that was for sure.
His brown eyes were full of humor when she looked up at him. “You’re horrible.”
“Don’t turn around. It worked, I think. He’s sending death rays right at me,” Kurt whispered near her ear. “Want me to do it again? We can really give him a show.”
“No. I think I’ve proved my point. You can...let me go now.”
Chapter 37
Clay was avoiding her. Bailey didn’t need her training to be able to figure that out. She’d made it into the precinct half an hour early. Then Clay had immediately sent her back to Finley Creek.
She didn’t mind.
It was nice to have the forty-minute drive to think without him interrupting. She used that drive time to run over everything they knew so far.
Hopefully, what she’d find in Finley Creek would shed some light on the old reports.
She started off with the head of forensics at Finley Creek. The woman wasn’t that much older than Bailey—and would be her boss if she took Elliot Marshall up on his offer.
“We’re talking twenty to thirty years ago, Bailey. That’s not going to be much we can do. Not at this point. And not unless you can find the original evidence. And after what happened with Benny Russell last year—chances are slim we still have it.” The new supervisor of the Finley Creek forensics department told her. Bailey had worked with Haldyn closely before, and knew the other woman would do her best.
But she understood what Haldyn meant. The former head of the computer forensics had bombed the computer lab—and destroyed a good portion of the evidence warehouse above it. “I have Kevin Beck’s case-file numbers.”
“I’ll send Theresa up there to see what she can find, but please don’t hold your breath. It’ll be a big stretch. Wish I could help you more.”
“I appreciate anything I can find at this point. If Kevin hadn’t kept duplicates, I’m not sure I’d have anything at all.”
Haldyn checked her watch. “It’s lunchtime. Tell you what: join me in the cafeteria, and then afterward, I’ll head out to the new annex with you to see what we can find. It may take both of us to find it before next Tuesday.”
Haldyn was full of questions. Bailey answered them as best she could. “All we have is the plastic wrap and the fact that the women were all blond. And we think they may have been acquainted with their victims. But no one saw anything or knew anything.”
“Ouch. So all you have to go on is forensics. Forensic evidence that might not even exist any longer.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you have positive IDs yet? I heard that the FBI in St. Louis has a new program that Brynna Beck helped write. It speeds up the process on facial-reconstructive algorithms. I bet if you knew someone up there, they could get your face at least.”
There was a gleam in Haldyn’s eyes that told Bailey the other woman wanted to see that software in action. She laughed—she understood. The tools they had in a well-run forensics lab were remarkable. And to be honest, fun to play with.
She’d been torn—was still torn—between the field and forensics. Every time she thought she’d made up her mind, something would come up to make her doubt.
“I can make a call.” Cam would no doubt be able to help with that. She thought Brynna Beck’s sister was a connection of Cam’s in some way. “See if a friend can do me a favor.”
“And if you do...I’d like to see the results.” Haldyn shot her a look. “You know, if you come work with me, you’ll have access to as many toys as Elliot Marshall will let me have.”
“I’m considering it.” Bailey wouldn’t lie. She was considering it. More and more every day. “I’m going to finish this case up first. Then make my decision.”
“I have an assistant-supervisor position open.”
“I only have four months experience.”
“Yeah, but you know your stuff. I saw that before. You work with me directly, you’ll have the supervisor position within a year.”
Tempting. Very, very tempting.
“Let me finish this case. Then I’ll let you know.”
“No problem.” Haldyn grinned. “Now, you want to go digging for buried treasure. The vault is one of my favorite places.”
An hour later and Bailey feared that someone would never find her and the other woman if they were to get trapped in what Haldyn referred to as the vault of doom.
She always had liked Haldyn’s sense of humor. And the woman was apparently afraid of nothing.
When they finally emerged, both were covered with dust and plaster residue—from the bombing months ago—that hadn’t been fully cleaned up yet.
“Hey, we’re working on it as fast as we can. When the case load permits,” Haldyn said before untying the mask she was wearing. She and Bailey were both dressed in the paper coveralls. Haldyn had insisted, stating that while she thought the vault was safe, she wasn’t one hundred percent certain. Haldyn suffered from admitted obsessive-compulsive disorder, and she rode everyone in the lab about safety constantly. “At least, you found one box. With our pal Kimball, I’m surprised there was any forensics taken at all. The guy is definitely not a man of science.”
“Or personality.”
“That either.”
“If you ladies are through playing in the secondhand store, some of us have actual police work to do,” a male voice said behind them. Bailey fought jumping. Her fingers tightened on the evidence box in her hands as she turned around. Her tension lessened when she saw the pretty man standing behind her.
Jarrod Foster; she’d met him before. He had once been Mel Beck’s partner, before Mel had been shot. Her path had crossed with his before.
“Foster.”
“Harris.”
Whew. Talk about cold.
But the two never had gotten along. “Hi, Detective Foster, how are you?”
He scowled at Haldyn again, then smiled at Bailey. “Doing fine, Deputy Moore. What brings you out here to the dusty annals of doom?”
“Cold-case files.”
“I heard about Addy’s two bodies. Anything so far?”
“Not yet. I’m tracking down possible connected cases now.”
“And that’s why you are hanging out in here with Dr. Frankenstein?”
“Detective Foster has always been so clever. But perfect timing. I’m sure he’d be more than willing to help you carry those boxes.” Haldyn shot him a snotty look.
Wow.
Talk about acrimony. She’d thought she and Clay didn’t get along. These two threatened to annihilate each other just with deadly looks. “You two always play so nicely?”
“Every chance we get,” Haldyn said. “Detective Foster and I are the best of friends.”
“That’s how you want to put it, fine,” Detective Foster said.
“So what brings you down here to my vault, Foster?”
“Search for the truth, what else?” He waved a form in Haldyn’s face. “I need to touch your precio
us evidence for a bit. Think you can help me find it?”
“I’ll find it for you. You carry that for Bailey.”
“Your wish is my command, Lady of the Vault. I live only to serve.”
Chapter 38
Bailey worked her rear off going over everything that Haldyn had given her. She had three women’s purses, hair fibers, two semen samples—those gave her some hope—and plastic wrap. ME reports. And some soil samples from the women who had been found.
She spread the photos of the evidence out—Haldyn had actually kept the hard pieces of evidence to process them—over her conference table.
Bailey tried to ignore the names signed on the original reports. Shawn Jennson. Peter Holte. Elliot Marshall Sr. Kevin Beck. Detective Kimball. A handful of other names she recognized.
She tried to piece together what she had so that it told a story. Painted an arrow to someone who could have done this to their victims.
The best hope she had was that time hadn’t degraded the samples too much—and that their killer had been careless enough to leave them something to work with.
Semen samples could be inconclusive—there was no guarantee the man who had left the semen hadn’t been a lover. That the sex hadn’t been consensual and before the killer had found the victim.
It was going to take weeks for the evidence to go through the appropriate processes and for them to gain useable results. She just wished it was as simple as television made it out to be.
When she was finished for the day, she locked the conference room—on Clay’s orders. He wanted no possibilities of the evidence being compromised or even touched.
She would be back the day after the next, and hopefully be able to make sense of what they had.
Haldyn was going to get her as many preliminary reports as she could.
Bailey just hoped it was going to be enough.
Chapter 39
The last place he'd expected to find himself was at the Finley Creek-Barratt Memorial Sports Complex. But he was there. Clay had spent the thirty-two of the last fifty or so hours tying up a cattle rustling bust in the southernmost corner of his county. He hadn’t seen Bailey in two days. He had called her this morning—but she’d reminded him that she was taking her scheduled time off, time she’d requested before she’d returned to work that first day.
Holding the Truth Page 11
