by Alex Ander
Decker smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I do it all the time.” His hands held two plastic cups of coffee. He raised the cups and flicked his eyes back and forth from her to Ashford.
“Thank you.” Cruz accepted the cups and gave one to her partner.
Ashford took a couple of sips. “Thanks, Sheriff.”
Decker spun his chair around and sat. “Were you folks planning on heading back to D.C. tonight? If you are, you should probably take a look outside.” He leaned backward and opened the shades, revealing a blinding snowstorm. Everything was white. “There’s almost six inches on the ground and the weatherman says to expect another six in the next few hours. Apparently, we’ve had snowfall rates exceeding an inch per hour.”
Cruz and Ashford had been so focused on the investigation that neither one had taken the time to step outside or near a window. She pivoted her head toward him and arched her eyebrows. Her Dodge Charger was going to have a difficult time in six-plus inches of snow. She did not look forward to the white-knuckle drive home. “Do you think we can make it?”
He analyzed the situation before falling back on his sense of humor. “Sure, we can do it. Go slow, keep both hands on the wheel and we should make the three-hour trip to D.C. in…” he pretended to be doing calculations in his head, “six or seven hours.”
Decker stood. “You’re both adults, and far be it from me to tell you what to do, but if it were me, I wouldn’t attempt it. We’ve got places where you can hunker down and ride this thing out.”
Cruz and Ashford took turns staring at each other and looking out the window.
“Listen, if it makes your decision any easier,” Decker jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “I know the owner of a bed and breakfast, the Gateway Mansion, that’s just a couple of blocks from here. It’s a beautiful building, nice and clean.” Sweetening his offer, he added, “I saw where it even got 4.7 stars on Google.”
Cruz smiled when she heard the older man reference the search engine giant. He was a good man. His hospitality had been nothing short of warm and friendly, a gracious host. She wished all her interactions with local police could be this amicable.
Decker could see she was mulling over his proposal. He grinned. “Just so you know I’ve taken the liberty of reserving two rooms at the Mansion.”
Cruz chuckled and glanced at Ashford, who wasted no time indicating he was more than happy to spend the night. Coming back to Decker, she smiled. “Thank you, Sheriff. We’ll take the rooms. How much do we owe you?”
He plucked his jacket from the back of his chair and swung it around his shoulders. “No charge. It’s the least I can do for you coming all this way and lending a hand.” He twisted his wrist to see the time. “Come on. If we hurry, I think we can get you two some dinner before they close down the kitchen over there.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Chapter 8: Mansion
January 10th, 7:33 a.m.
Special Agent Cruz scampered out of the bathroom and hurried toward the bed. With one hand holding a towel against her body, she picked up her cell phone with the other hand. She did not recognize the number. “Special Agent DelaCruz,” she said. Glancing down, she watched water droplets land on her feet and the plush brown carpeting.
“Special Agent DelaCruz, this is Sheriff Decker. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I was just getting out of the shower. I’m putting you on speakerphone. Hold on.” She tapped her phone and put it on the bed, so she could use both hands to dry her hair. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”
“There’s been a murder up in Youngstown, Ohio. A headless, handless body was found along the road. I’m on my way to pick you up. How much time do you need?”
Cruz shut her eyes and grimaced. A few seconds later, she opened them. “I’ll be out front in fifteen minutes. Thank you, Sheriff.”
… … … … … … … … … …
Ten minutes later, Cruz holstered her pistol and stuffed her red blazer and slacks into an overnight bag. Having been caught in the field earlier in her career with nothing but the clothes on her back, she always kept extra clothing in her Charger—underwear, pants, shirt, socks and personal grooming items. She had exchanged the red slacks for blue jeans and added a white blouse under her black turtleneck sweater, mostly for warmth. She had no other shoes, so she was wearing the same high heels from yesterday.
She glanced at her phone on the bed. A green light on the device was blinking, indicating she had a new text message. She donned her long black overcoat and secured the buttons before snatching her phone. Halfway through reading the message, someone knocked on the door, but she did not hear the noise. Her jaw dropped and she went back to the beginning of the message.
Ashford knocked on the door to Cruz’s room for a third time. “Cruz, are you in there? I got a call from Sheriff Decker. He’s waiting for us downstairs.” He put his ear to the door. “Cruz, can you hear me?” He rapped on the door with his fist.
Cruz heard the pounding, but the ruckus sounded far away. She pivoted, sloughed toward the door and opened it.
“Good morning.” Ashford took a step backward when she brushed past him, never acknowledging his greeting. He watched her move toward the stairs, nose stuck in her phone. It looks like someone didn’t get enough sleep last night. After she rounded the corner, he turned to shut the door. His eyes spotted her overnight bag on the bed. He started to call out to her, but stopped. Retrieving the bag, he took a quick look inside the bathroom and saw she had forgotten a few personal items. He chucked them into the bag, scanned the main room for additional items and left.
… … … … … … … … … …
Cruz exited the bed and breakfast. Her attention was focused on the text message. Two steps past the door and she felt a stiff wind, followed by the sensation of her shoes filling up with cold and wet snow. Breaking away from her phone, she noticed the sidewalk had not been cleared. She waded through several inches of the white stuff on her way to Sheriff Decker’s vehicle.
Closing the passenger door, a chill went up her spine when the vehicle’s heater made light work of the snow in her shoes, transforming the snow into water. Inwardly, she groaned and made a mental note to add boots to her overnight bag. She whipped her head back and forth, searching for the bag. “I’ll be right back. I forgot—” The back door on the driver’s side opened and Ashford climbed inside. She rotated her head, saw her bag and nodded at him before sitting straight in her seat. “I’m all set, Sheriff.”
… … … … … … … … … …
“Is this all you have?” Cruz did not look up from the paperwork in her hands.
Decker pointed. “That’s all that came in. They’re in the preliminary stages of gathering evidence and getting statements from those who have any information.”
Cruz re-read the report, handing each page to Ashford after she was finished with it. Giving the last page to him, she dug out her mobile from the front pocket of her jeans. “How far away is Youngstown from here?” She typed in the town’s name on her navigation app.
Decker was faster than the navigation app. “It’s three hours to the northwest, just over the Pennsylvania/Ohio border. Are you planning on heading up there?”
She looked beyond his shoulder at the snow-covered trees and vehicles. “I have to.” She motioned toward the papers in Ashford’s hands and went back to her phone. “This can’t be a coincidence. My gut tells me they’re connected.”
Decker opened a desk drawer. “Well you’re going to need these.” He held out a set of keys. “They belong to a cruiser out back, a four-wheel drive SUV. In the back—”
Cruz raised her hands and shook her head. “No, I couldn’t impose like that. You’ve been great to us, Sheriff.” Her eyes shifted to the wintery mess beyond the window. “I think my vehicle can make the drive.” She was trying to convince herself as much as Decker.
Decker spun his head to the left and hailed her partner. “Agent Ashford,” he said,
before tossing the keys. Ashford barely had time to react, catching the keys in one hand, while using his other hand to keep the paperwork from falling to the floor. “In the back of the vehicle, you’ll find a vault. The entry code is written on a sticky note in that file folder. Inside the vault are a pump-action shotgun and an AR-15. Feel free to use them.”
Cruz smiled at Decker. “You’re not taking ‘no’ for an answer, are you, Sheriff?”
His head down, he shook it slowly. “The area north of here got hit harder than we did. It snowed all night. They might not even have the interstates cleared yet.” He motioned toward his desk. “Leave your car keys, and I’ll have one my deputies park your vehicle with my patrol cars. It’ll be safe, until you return for it.”
“Thank you, Sheriff. I—we really appreciate everything you’ve done for us.” She stuck out her hand and Decker shook it.
He maintained his grasp of her hand. “Just do me a favor. When you catch this S.O.B., and something tells me you will, I want to hear about it…from you.” He let go of her hand. “In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you kept me informed of any progress you make.”
Cruz squeezed her fingers into the pocket of her tight-fitting jeans. Her hand emerged with her car keys. “You can count on it.”
“If I get any new information, I’ll pass it along.” Decker got Ashford’s attention. “Good luck to you both.”
Ashford closed the file and shook Decker’s hand. “Thank you, Sheriff. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”
Decker nodded and replied, “Likewise.” He pointed at the keys in Ashford’s hand. “Deputy Barnes will escort you to the SUV.”
Cruz thanked Sheriff Decker again before following her partner out of the office.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Chapter 9: Text Message
8:44 a.m.
Interstate 99
25 miles north of Huntingdon, Pennsylvania
Ashford stepped on the accelerator and the Ford Explorer’s engine roared. Pressing down on the turn signal, he merged onto Interstate 99, near Tyrone, Pennsylvania. Sheriff Decker was right when he said the area to the north had received more snow. The further away from Huntingdon Ashford and Special Agent Cruz got the worse the highway became. Fortunately, many drivers had opted to stay home. Ashford and Cruz were making good time. The forty-five minute drive from Huntingdon to Tyrone had been quiet. Outside of informing him that she wanted to stop at a store that sold boots, Special Agent Cruz had not spoken a word, choosing to stare into her phone the entire trip.
He turned on the radio and found a local station playing classic rock and roll. Yes, this is a great song. Singing the song in his head, he drummed on the steering wheel.
Cruz hit the radio knob on the dash, plunging the interior into silence. “If you don’t mind, I’m not feeling in the mood for music.” She went back to her phone.
“Are you all right, Cruz? Outside of your last sentence, you haven’t said two words. Is there something bothering you?”
“I’m fine.”
Ashford snorted. “I’m fine. That’s usually what I say when I don’t feel like talking to people.”
Cruz scrolled down the page on her phone. “Then you’ll understand when I say ‘I don’t feel up to talking.’”
Ashford nodded and said, “Except I’m not people. I’m your partner.” His words hung in the air. “You’ve been acting strange all morning. What’s wrong?”
She shut her eyes and let her head hit the headrest. “I’m not sure you can help, Ash. My problem is of the female nature…I think only another woman could understand.”
He squirmed in his seat and peered out the window. Bringing his attention back to the road, he adjusted the rear view mirror and cleared his throat. “Okay, I’m an adult.” He bobbed his head left and right. “I know how the female body works…Maybe I can help. Talk to me.”
Cruz rolled her head to face him. Her face was void of emotion, but she was smiling on the inside. This was the most light-hearted moment she had had, since leaving the Gateway Mansion. “It’s not that kind of a female problem.”
His posture relaxed and he melded into his seat. “Thank God for that.”
Cruz grinned, but the fleeting joy drained from her face.
“So, what’s got you down?” More silence. After more than a minute of awkward stillness, Ashford sighed. “All right, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay. I’ll just sit here and keep—”
“He broke up with me.”
Before Ashford could ask the question, his mind, and Cruz, answered it.
“Derek broke up with me this morning…in a text message.” She whipped her head around toward Ashford. “He broke up with me in a text message.” Her voice grew louder. “Who does that? Who ends a relationship by sending a freaking text message?” She raised her hands. “I’m sorry about the language. I’m just so p—…upset.”
Ashford held back a snicker. He could have counted on one hand the number of times he had heard her curse, and still have a couple fingers left over. I’m not sure ‘freaking’ even counts as a swear word.
Dropping her phone into her lap, she tapped her chest. “He didn’t even have the—” This time, she caught herself. “Guts to tell me to my face...or call me,” she said, her voice breaking on the last word. She twisted in her seat. “What’s wrong with men? They’re so quick to fight when they’ve been dissed, but they can’t seem to muster the courage to tell the woman they’ve been dating for months that it’s over.”
Let’s not throw us all under the bus. He let her remark go. She was speaking from her pain.
“I don’t get it.” She held up her phone. “I thought we had a great relationship. Can you believe I was going to take him to meet my mother? What’s wrong with me?”
Ashford wanted to answer the question. There’s nothing wrong with you; however, he kept quiet, thinking she had been right. This was a conversation to be had with another woman. His words may not be well received, considering he was from the same gender that dumped her. The best thing he could do was to listen and not speak, acting as a sounding board.
“What a big mistake that would’ve been,” she stated, pivoting back to her right and crossing her arms over her chest. Her mind was going a hundred miles an hour, thinking back to all the time she and Derek had spent together. Were the clues there? Did I not see them? How could I be so stupid? “Never again, Ash…I’m done with men.” Realizing her overly dramatic statement, she backtracked. “At least I’ll never fall for another man like Derek—gone all the time on business trips…suddenly leaving the country for work. No, the next man I date is going to have a nice boring job, or he’ll work from home. He’ll have a pocket protector, a computer degree and be safe and predictable. I’m through with the mysterious and daring men.”
Ashford eased the Explorer to the right, taking the exit for North High Street, the road that would get them to the next leg of their journey.
Cruz gazed at the distant pine trees, their boughs hanging low from the weight of the wet snow. Her mind drifted back to Christmas, and the ski trip to the Northeast she and Derek had taken. She had no idea how to ski, but she had enjoyed spending time in front of the lodge’s fireplace, drinking hot chocolate and watching the skiers glide down the hill.
Seeing the sign for US-322, Cruz blinked her eyes a few times, and she was jolted back to reality. Ashford coughed and she realized he was probably feeling uncomfortable. I’ve really dumped a lot on him. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He probably has no clue what to say to me. Facing her partner, she apologized. “I’m sorry about all this, Ash. I should’ve just kept it to myself.”
He cranked his head toward her and intentionally quieted his voice. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m your partner and friend. I’m there whenever you need me.” A split-second later, he smacked the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “I just wish I could do something. That son of a—
” He made a fist and shook it. “If I ever cross paths with him, I’ll—”
Cruz grabbed his wrist. “No, you won’t.” She knew if Ashford did cross paths with Derek, he’d make good on his promises. “You’ll leave him alone. I’m a big girl and I’ll get over this…eventually. I don’t need you landing yourself in jail for assault.” She felt the power in his arm. “Do you hear me? I don’t need saving.” A few seconds later, the muscles in his arm relaxed. Letting go of his arm, she settled into her seat.
“Who said anything about saving?” Ashford grumbled. “You know I just like hitting stuff…people.” Feeling her disapproving look, he curled up the right side of his mouth to show he was kidding. Ashford flicked his eyes toward her. “Do you want my take on the situation?”
Knowing she was going to get his opinion, regardless of what she said, Cruz extended her open hand in front of her body, giving him the floor.
“I always thought you could do better.” He tapped his brakes for a slow-moving vehicle ahead and grunted, “Come on.” Passing the car, he recalled their conversation on the way to Huntingdon. “I sound like a broken record, but you’re a great gal, Cruz. You already know how I feel about you and what you’ve accomplished. Any man, who would dump you, is a damn fool. Don’t waste any more of your time on him. It’s over. See ya...wouldn’t want to be ya.”
Cruz grinned, her spirits rising. “See ya…wouldn’t want to be ya? Did you just make that up?”
“No, I heard it in an old movie I watched last week.” He smiled. “It seemed appropriate.”
Her giggle built into laughter. “Thanks, Ash. I needed that.” Moments passed in silence. “You’re a great guy, too. You know that?”
He nodded. “I know. You’re a lucky lady to be teamed up with me.” He tilted his head, his face deadpan. “But, don’t go getting any ideas.” With his finger, he made a circular motion toward his body. “This is off limits. We’re strictly professionals.”
