“He still on crutches?”
“Yes. He’s with Al and Paige now. It’s why I’m here.”
She nodded again. She’d figured as much. IA had a habit of popping up in the strangest places within the PAVAD division. Mick, more so than other agents, usually at Director Dennis’s behest. “Then get me where I need to go.”
She had a kid to get back to. It would be the first time she’d spent away from Lucy while working. The little girl was with Luc now. They’d stayed with him a few times before, for various reasons. Lucy had her own room there. So it was almost like she was home.
Cody expected to be back first thing in the morning. Maybe afternoon, if the car took longer than she expected. If this local precinct didn’t have forensics technicians of their own.
He actually opened the borrowed squad-car door for her. She shot a look at his face—he hadn’t even been aware of what he was doing. Chivalry and courtesy were deeply ingrained in this Brockman. Just like it was in his father.
Too bad she wasn’t in the market for a relationship right now. She might just ask him out anyway. As friends, only, of course.
Mick somehow always looked like he could use one.
Cody knew what it was like to feel that alone. “So tell me what we have going on here?”
“I’ll let Lorcan fill you in. I’m just here to observe, after all.”
Yeah, sure.
She knew evasion when she saw it.
Chapter 35
Paige nodded at Deputy Jacobs as she and Al climbed the steps to the home Jon Mundy sometimes shared with his mother. It had taken them far too long to secure a warrant to search the man’s house. She didn’t always understand small-town bureaucracies. The wheels turned slowly around here.
This time the excuse was the that the weather had caused a staffing shortage at the courthouse.
“Is this normal?” The early morning sun glared off the fresh snow, making the last vestiges of her headache throb.
And it was only eight a.m.
It was going to be a long day.
“What do you mean?” Al’s nose was bright red, and she wore an even brighter blue scarf, no doubt knit by her mother, around her neck and ears.
“This living with their parents thing? These guys are a year older than I am.” And that floored her. She’d been on her own so long she didn’t know if she could ever live with someone else again.
Except Carrie. Maybe. It had been a few years since they’d bunked together.
“Small towns. Fewer economic and housing opportunities, possibly?”
“I don’t know. I just think it’s a little strange. All the players we’ve come across are twenty-nine-year old men who still live with their mothers.”
“Who is the latest?”
“Hmmm. Nugent connected Jon Mundy with Troy Heathers. Another buddy from high school. Surprise, surprise.”
Al smirked. “Guess what? He also connected Carroll to the same graduating class. But it’s no real surprise. When you only have thirty kids per grade, there’s going to be some serious overlap.”
Paige couldn’t imagine it.
Of course, she hadn’t gone to a high school at all. Her diploma had been earned at a night course after Carrie had crossed her eighteenth birthday and they were both free of the possibility of social services separating them.
That, and the money Carrie had received after selling some software she’d developed to some industry bigwig had enabled them to get a college education.
The FBI recruiter had found them there.
She’d stepped out of the academy and to her first appointment in St. Louis four years ago. And now here she was.
“You ok?” Al asked as they climbed the blue steps. There was snow and ice on the edges. Someone had salted the center. It wasn’t a large house, but it had that small-town, homey appeal.
Paige had never done well with small-town homey.
She and Carrie had learned early on that the smaller the town, the more the two of them had stood out. In sometimes dangerous ways.
She and her sister had come a long way since then.
They’d defeated the odds. Won. Triumphed.
Now Carrie had Sebastian.
They had won.
What had made men like Nick Debasi and Jon Mundy not appreciate what they had?
The door opened before she and Al could get there. A man about fifty-five stood there, a work shirt half buttoned and his thinning hair uncombed. There was a worried look on his face.
He reminded her of Dan, her landlord and Carrie’s teammate.
“What are you ladies doing here?”
Paige stepped in front of Al slightly. “Mr. Mundy, I’m Paige Daviess, and this is Alessandra Brockman. We’re with the—”
“FBI. I know who you are. Everyone in town does. What’s this about? I’m on my way to the hospital to see my boy.”
“We’re here to search your house, Mr. Mundy. See if we can find out who would want Jon hurt. We understand the house is in your wife’s name?”
“Lois took off six years ago. Suppose the place is still in her name.”
That was news to them. “We have a warrant. You’re allowed to be here, provided there’s no disruptions.”
He nodded. “I know how warrants work.”
That was news, too.
He took the paper she handed him. “Boy’s been in trouble before. But he didn’t have nothing to do with no murder. I can promise you that.”
“Right now, we’re just here to search, to see if we can find out who hurt Jon. If you would just stay here with Deputy Allenski, we’ll get started.”
“Search wherever you want. I’m going to the hospital. If you find something—you know where he’s at.”
Fifteen minutes later, they had exactly what they had expected to find. Approximately twenty grams of meth was tucked neatly inside the electrical box on the back of the Mundy household.
Along with an actual handwritten receipt.
With a letter “T” signed on the bottom.
Interesting. Meth dealers kept receipts, apparently. And Jon was deep in debt.
Now they had to find out who “T” was.
Paige had a strong suspicion she knew where to start.
Chapter 36
Cody was thankful that the Dover Springs police department had been able to secure her a garage in which to process the car. It wasn’t a completely sterile environment, but it would work. It was better than being out in the elements.
She studied the task before her. Her passion was mechanics and she’d naturally found her way to the automotive forensics department, first in Indianapolis and now in St. Louis. She was certified to process any type of crime scene, but her preference would always be engines.
After photographing, measuring, labeling, and taking samples of everything she could, Cody stepped back and peeled the white paper coveralls off. It had taken her nearly ten hours to get this far—and she’d worked through the night. She was ready to quit for a while, then get some sleep.
She had no idea where anyone else was. But they’d reappear eventually.
They always did.
She hated the coveralls, but they were necessary. She’d seen contaminated samples before, and they were never fun to deal with. She double-checked everything she did. And then checked it again.
One of her samples, taken from the backseat of the vehicle, near where the source of the initial blast had been located, looked iffy.
Cody meticulously redressed in a fresh set of the coveralls. She had just covered her dark hair with a protective net when someone spoke behind her.
“You know your way around cars?”
She spun. The man she’d been introduced to earlier stood there far too close to the passenger side of the car. Like he’d been there for a while. Just watching her. Ick. It was nearly nine a.m. How long had he been there? “Deputy Carroll. Yes, my father was a mechani
c.”
“And you picked it up. Good for you.” There was a paternalistic expression on his face that she definitely didn’t like.
“Well, it’s all science, after all. I’m assistant supervisor for the forensics department at PAVAD. If you’ll excuse me, I really need to get the rest of my samples taken. I’ll be flying these samples back to St. Louis in a few hours.” He nodded, but his eyes were trained on the front of her coveralls and not on her face. “Deputy Carroll, was there something you needed?”
He smirked. Cody knew what the creep was thinking.
Fortunately, his radio buzzed. He shot another look at her and grabbed it. She waited until he walked completely out of the garage before turning back to the burned shell of a car.
She hadn’t been about to turn her back on that deputy.
Cody was far from stupid.
She squeezed herself into the back of the car, doing her best not to actually come into contact with the surface. She had a video camera attached to her front. It would allow her to convert images to still photos if it became necessary for court.
Light from the camera reflected on something she hadn’t seen on her first inspection—always a possibility, and one reason why Cody always recommended a team process a car multiple times to make certain nothing was missed.
Cody leaned forward. With tweezers, she picked up the three-inch white hair and bagged it carefully. It was a miracle it hadn’t burned. But it had been covered by a leather jacket that most likely had been tossed in the floorboard. It had protected the single hair—mostly. One end appeared singed.
It probably wouldn’t matter much, but she wasn’t going to discount the possibility. Cases had hinged on less.
She’d go over the car one more time, then express messenger her samples back to Kelly and Ally at PAVAD. They could potentially have results back within forty-eight hours, dependent on the rest of the department’s workload.
Results that Team Three no doubt needed.
Chapter 37
“Hey, Kel. What’s up?”
“Did you know there was blood on that dog hair you sent? I would have appreciated the heads-up.”
“What dog hair?”
“The white one, three inches long, and had blood on the end.”
“I saw burn marks. Not blood.”
“It was actually blood. It matched your victim. The shooting victim, not the burn victim.”
“Thanks, Kel. Did you find anything else?” It wasn’t Cody’s job to solve the case, just to use the science to back up any findings. But she’d trained as an investigator originally—and she’d been married to Sebastian Lorcan for five years, after all. The guy was always trying to puzzle things out. It had rubbed off.
Cody and Kelly had just connected Wade Heathers to Jon Mundy. It might be enough for Sebastian, Paige, and Al.
“Fingerprints at the Delasi meth lab matched a reference sample. A Deputy Carroll. They’re still processing the rest. There have been a lot of people in that little meth store.”
“Sounds like it. Thanks again, Kel. This might be what they need to move forward.”
“Anytime. I’ll let you know what else I find. I’m about to get started on the leather jacket you sent now. It should take me most of tomorrow, though. There were a lot of contaminates.”
Cody had expected no less. It wasn’t like it was on television dramas. Even with PAVAD having a strong enough staff to ensure the lab was fast and effective, there were times the teams just had to wait—either for results, or for their turn on the line. Nothing anyone liked, but it wasn’t about to change. It was just reality.
But while Team Three waited on forensics, what they’d just learned might give them another direction to take.
Because if Jon Mundy had killed Wade Heathers, there still remained the question of who had almost killed Jon. “Thanks, Kel. Keep me posted, will you?”
“No problem. I’m bumping you to the front of the line.”
“Thanks. Any reason why?”
“I don’t like it when my friends get blown up. Brings back too many bad memories.”
“Totally understand.”
“How are they?”
“Tough as nails, of course.”
“Aren’t we all? Aren’t we all?”
PAVAD did seem to draw a particular kind of woman, after all.
Chapter 38
Mick watched Al and Paige like the proverbial hawk. Not because he didn’t think the two of them could handle themselves. Far from it. Paige might be too reckless at times—especially with her own well-being, something that would definitely be in his report—but they worked hard and fast.
Like they were two parts of the same brain cell. Even when they didn’t agree.
And they didn’t always. Something that actually surprised him. He hadn’t paid much attention to how Paige operated before now. But he had thought she and his sister were usually in agreement.
Obviously they were not.
Paige and Al had been given the assignment of interviewing Wade’s brother Troy. Mick observed through the window, along with Sebastian.
And that ass Carroll.
He had taken to following Paige around when he could. He’d tried it with Al but had second-guessed himself when Mick had interrupted.
It wasn’t Mick’s job to make things easier for Paige Daviess—if she couldn’t cut it, she didn’t need to be there—but it was his job to protect his sister.
His moral job, anyway.
It was hard to keep himself objective right now. He half wondered what Dennis had been thinking.
Unless Dennis was testing Mick, himself.
Entirely possible. Dennis had highly calculating nature. There wasn’t anything that man did that Mick took at face value.
It was a lucky thing for the bureau that Edward Dennis had chosen to be one of the good guys.
Dennis would make one hell of a supervillain.
Mick turned his attention back to the women he’d been tasked with observing.
Paige was too pale today. No surprise. Mick refused to worry about her.
No matter how much she got under his skin.
Troy thought he’d hit the jackpot with the two women in front of him. He’d actually whistled when Al and Paige had walked in. Relaxed in his chair, body language shouting that he found them attractive—and thought he was more than a match for either one of them.
Mick snorted at that. Whoever his sister finally fell for would have to have balls of steel. Al could be difficult at times.
As for Paige Daviess?
She’d shift a man’s entire existence, if a man was foolish enough to fall for her.
Linsey may have been acting like a cocky ass to deflect from the fact he knew he was in trouble. It made sense. He’d seen idiots pull the deflect strategy before.
Not a tactic Mick would choose, though.
He’d rather just be up front about everything.
Even as IA.
Mick hated spying on people he respected.
Including that massive irritant with dark eyes still filled with pain and the smile that could stop the world.
Mick knew the two were pushing themselves past what was appropriate, but he wasn’t about to interfere in how Sebastian ran his team. Not this case, when he needed to see what the agents on that team were made of.
Dennis had called with new orders. Orders that Mick wasn’t entirely certain he liked.
It would have helped if the director had given him reasons why Mick was supposed to evaluate his own sister, her partner, and Merrick Cody.
They were all three damned good at their jobs—even if Paige was far too reckless for what her job demanded.
She was the only one about whom he had concern.
But the director had insisted he had plans for them—plans that Mick wasn’t to know about just yet.
What the director had meant had been silently implied. If Mick had
questions, he was to keep them to himself on this one.
He wasn’t certain he could do that.
Chapter 39
Wade’s brother Troy looked like him. Only a smaller version. Thinner. Jittery. His eyes were red-rimmed. He still had acne pocking his chin.
He wasn’t nearly as put together as every photo of Wade had shown. There was a disparity between the brothers—that was certain. Wade had been a success in his field and in his personal life. Troy, most definitely not. “Mr. Linsey, I’m sorry about what happened with your brother.”
Al studied him carefully. From what they’d learned, he was the same age as Nick Delasi. The two men had gone to school together. Not that uncommon, considering the size of the Dover Springs population.
“He’s going to be buried next week. Once the snow melts. And you feds are done. My mom is arguing with Angela over details. Told mom to stay out of it.”
“They’re both grieving. It’s natural to want to control things.”
He snorted. Troy leaned down and looked at his arms. He rubbed one against the ledge of the table. Incessantly.
Al’s attention sharpened.
He had scratch marks up and down his arms. And he kept digging.
Interesting.
“Troy, can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your brother?” Al cataloged how his eyes shifted. No indication he was thinking up a lie.
But it also didn’t quite look like he was there at the moment. She shot a look at Sebastian. Her team leader hadn’t missed the signs, either.
Sebastian nodded at her to go on.
“No. Wade was a good guy. Helped whenever he could. Watched my kid sometimes.” He wiped his nose messily with a red, white and blue handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.
Al tried not to gag.
“You have a child?”
“Daughter. She lives with my mother.”
Al hoped he didn’t see her wince. One of the last people she’d ever consider maternal was Tracey Linsey. “And her mother?”
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