When the Tiger Kills: A Cimarron/Melbourne Thriller: Book One

by Vanessa Prelatte

  “She might not go to the University. Then we're back at square one.”

  “We've had so much bad luck, we're due for a break. Maybe someone at one of the sporting goods stores will remember seeing the two of them.”

  They struck out at the first two stores they visited. At the third store, however, it was a different story. The clerk's eyes lit up with recognition as soon as they showed him the photograph.

  “Yeah, I saw those two. Couple of days ago. Remember it because of the girl. She was really something, you know? Pretty enough to be a model.”

  “Think back,” Rafe encouraged. “What day was it, exactly?”

  “Thursday, I think. Yeah, it was Thursday. They came in around one o'clock. I'd just come back from lunch. This kid,” he pointed to Will, “was wearing a Mountpelier University sweatshirt, and we got to talking about college sports. My cousin's girl, she plays on the women's basketball team at the U. There was a game that night. I asked the kid if he and his girl were going to the game, but he said no, they were leaving on a camping trip. Just came in to pick up some more fuel for their camping stove.”

  “Did you notice anyone else hanging around? Anyone who seemed to be interested in this particular couple?”

  “No. That time of day on a Thursday isn't exactly busy. I think they were the only customers I waited on for quite a while.”

  “Thanks for your time. If you think of anything else, would you give us a call? We'd sure appreciate it.” Rafe passed his card to the clerk; then they headed out the door.

  “Okay. Suppose the perp followed them here. Didn't go into the store because he didn't want to be noticed. Where would he have watched and waited for them?”

  Dawn glanced around the street. “I'd opt for that one.” Rafe followed the direction of her pointing finger. It was some sort of coffee-house/bakery type deal, with bay windows on either side of the door that jutted out into the street. “He could go in, order himself some coffee, and sit at one of those tables in the window until Will and Lee came out. Then all he had to do was pick up his coffee and follow them.”

  They crossed the street and entered the shop. It seemed that the gods of good fortune had finally decided to smile upon them, for after ordering coffee, identifying themselves, and explaining what they were looking for, the waitress immediately said, “Oh, yeah. There's this creep who's been coming in the last few weeks. Not one of my regulars. Somebody new. He comes in and spends hours here, doing little drawings on a sketchpad. They always seem to be of customers going in and out of the stores across the street.”

  Dawn could hardly contain her excitement. “Why do you call him a creep?”

  “I don't know. He's real polite, tries to be charming as all get out. But there's something behind his eyes... And he wears a wig. Now mind you, he's a young man. Why would he want to wear a dirty blond wig?”

  “You're sure it was a wig?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah. I know when a guy is wearing a rug. My dad wore one. Couldn't bear it when he lost his hair. I always thought he looked ridiculous in that wig, but I never told him.”

  “Do you remember when he first started coming in?”

  “Sure, back at the beginning of the month. He was in here every day until Thursday. But he didn't show up yesterday, or today.”

  “On Thursday? Was he here all day?”

  “No, he came in the morning and sat there until just after lunch. Then he suddenly picked up his sketchpad and raced out the door. Left his coffee behind, too. I've never known him to do that before.”

  Rafe looked at her name tag and put his most charming smile on his face. “Barbara, what you saw may have an important bearing on a case we're working on. Would you be willing to come down to headquarters and work with a police artist? We'd really like to have a sketch of this man.”

  Barbara's eyes went wide with alarm. “Police headquarters! Am I in some kind of trouble?”

  “No, not at all. In fact, you'd be doing us a great service.”

  Barbara still looked doubtful. “I get off in about an hour. I guess I could come down then.”

  “Great! I'll meet you there. If for any reason I'm detained, give this card to the sergeant on duty.” Scribbling a note on the back of his business card, Rafe handed it to Barbara. “He'll arrange for you to get to the right place.” He turned another million megawatt smile on her, and Dawn thought that the girl was going to melt right before her eyes. She had no doubt that Barbara would keep the appointment, if only for a chance to catch sight of the handsome and fascinating Sergeant Melbourne again.

  As they made their way back to headquarters, Dawn said, “Rafe? We were talking about patterns before. In two of the cases, the one here and the one in Michigan, the male victim ended up at the bottom of a cliff. I think that killing the male that way is as important to him as snatching the female. In fact... what if killing the male is symbolic in some way? What if there was some figure in his life, a camper, an outdoors man, that he is symbolically killing, over and over again? If we're right, and he's done this before – in Michigan, in Alaska – he might not necessarily be following the couple first. All he'd have to do would be to stake out the sporting goods stores, waiting for the right type to walk in. It would explain a lot.”

  Rafe pondered. “You could be on to something. But where does the girl fit in?”

  Dawn replied, “It could be like Bundy. Rejection by his college girlfriend is apparently what set him off on his killing spree. What if something similar happened to our man? Take that trauma, add it to an earlier one involving some sort of father figure, maybe – and he could literally be killing two birds with one stone.”

  She broke off and checked her phone briefly. It didn't take her long to read the text that had just been sent to her.

  “Tyrell?” Rafe inquired.

  Dawn nodded. “Maeve's flying in from New Orleans. He wants to know if I can carve out some time to meet them at Fredo's for dinner.”

  “You should do it.”

  Dawn gave him a look. “Are you sure? We're on a roll here. I thought we could order in, start a search for rental properties in the area. I mean, he gets around, right? He's not local. He needs a place to take the girls once he abducts them. I'm thinking a house, not an apartment. With an attached garage, so that he can just lift them out of his truck and walk them in with no one the wiser.”

  Rafe considered. “Yeah, that's the next step. But first we need Devlin to sit down with sweet little Barbara and come up with a sketch of our suspect. Once we have that, we can start tracking down real estate agents who deal in rental properties. I'll meet with Barbara, take her up to Devlin, and get the process started. You go ahead and spend some time with your husband and your mother-in-law. Unless something has changed, and you're trying to avoid Maeve?”

  The denial came swiftly: “No! Of course not. You know how I feel about Maeve. When it comes to mothers-in-law, I got cut the luckiest break in the world.”

  “Then go meet her for dinner. Besides, Fredo's is only across the street. If something breaks, you can get away and be back in a matter of minutes.”

  “Okay. But I want to meet with Officer Taylor before I leave. He's bringing up the accident file on Gwen's dad. That should take no more than an hour. I guess I could take a little time after that for dinner.”

  “Is Ty flying Maeve in himself?”

  “No, he sent Jack to pick her up. She's due to arrive in just a few minutes.”

  *****

  Ty walked out of his own office and headed for Cal Skornac's domain, with the pleasing intention of dumping a mountain of paperwork on his right-hand-man's shoulders. As he passed the front desk, he heard Diana, Cal's oldest daughter, cooing soothingly to a prospective customer on the phone. Ty grinned. Cal himself, while a financial and logistical genius, had the tact and patience of a bull elephant in rut, so it had been a stroke of genius to hire his daughter, a bright and charming senior in high school, to help out in the office on weekends. Monday thr
ough Friday, his regular receptionist, Millicent Duras, served as a buffer between Cal and the customers, as well as with the rest of the staff at Lewellen Air. Milly, a no-nonsense woman with the emotional hide of a rhinoceros, was impervious to Cal's gruffness and frequent storms of bad temper. As for Diana – she was totally immune. However he might behave to the rest of the world, Cal was the soul of gentleness when it came to his girls.

  Giving a thumbs up to Diana, who smiled radiantly at him in return, Ty passed on and entered Cal's office. As usual, he was stunned by the sheer volume of paperwork that occupied Cal's desk. Yet he knew from experience that Cal knew exactly what was in each pile and could retrieve any document necessary with lightning speed. Cal looked up as Ty sauntered in, the almost perpetual scowl of concentration on his face smoothing out when he saw who had entered. He was only a little over average in height, but stocky and solid in build. His square face was dominated by a pair of piercing hazel eyes, which looked out over an aquiline nose and a jaw as pugnacious and hard as concrete.

  “Here I am drowning in paperwork, so naturally the big boss decides to stroll in and toss some more at me. I don't know why I put up with this shit.”

  “It's because you're so good at your job, Cal. You know the reward for hard work? You just keep getting more and more of it.”

  The smile that creased Cal's face was unexpectedly charming. “Toss it down, then. I'll get to it when I can. Anything urgent?”

  “Nothing that can't wait 'til Monday. When are you going to pack it up and head on home?”

  Glancing at his watch, Cal winced. “Ouch. It had better be soon. I promised Tess that I'd get both Diana and myself home in time for dinner tonight. Then we're heading out to the high school. Ben has a game tonight.”

  “How's our future Heisman Trophy winner doing?”

  “Pretty damn good. Team's 9 and 0. If they win tonight, they'll have a lock on home field advantage for the play-offs. Just pray that Ben's shoulder holds out. He got banged up pretty bad last week.”

  “Major Ty?”

  Ty turned toward the doorway at the sound of Diana's voice. Although Cal himself invariably used his given name when speaking to Ty, Cal insisted that his children address the boss by his proper rank. Even though Ty was no longer in the Air Force, he still maintained the rank of major in the Civil Air Patrol, in accordance with its policy of advancing retired members of the Armed Forces to the CAP grade equivalent of their rank upon joining the civilian auxiliary.

  “What's up, Diana?”

  “Jack just called in. He'll be landing any minute now.”

  “Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I appreciate it. Hey, how's everything going at school?”

  “Great! Senior year is the best!” Turning to her father, she said, “Dad, I just got a text from Mom. She wants to know when we're leaving before she picks up the twins so that she can coordinate dinner.”

  Ty watched, fascinated, as Cal positively beamed at his daughter. Only Diana and her younger sister, Jolene, could put that special smile on Cal's face.

  “Well, I should be able to wrap things up here shortly. Tell your mother that we'll be leaving in about ten minutes. That should give her plenty of time to pick up Adam and Zack.”

  “Okay, Dad.” She angled her head at Ty and said, “Are you coming to the game on Thursday? We're playing our biggest rival.”

  “I'll pencil it in.”

  “Awesome! I'll be looking forward to it.”

  After Diana had waltzed out the door, Cal said, “Thanks. She always enjoys looking up into the stands and seeing you there. Makes her feel special, the boss coming to watch her and all.”

  “I like softball. It's fun to watch her, besides. She's got the moves.”

  Cal chuckled. “Takes after her mother. Tess was a star on both her high school softball and basketball teams. Paid off too. Put herself through college on a basketball scholarship.”

  “Football game tonight, softball game on Thursday. Sounds like you have a full plate, Cal. Give my regards to Tess, and good luck to Ben. Gotta get going. If I'm going to be in time to greet my mother, I'd better hustle.”

  Sometimes it paid to have a shopaholic for a mother, Ty reflected as he waited for the door of the plane carrying her to open so that Maeve Lewellen could descend. When she had called him that morning, the first words out of her mouth had been, “Ty, darling, I've found the most beautiful present for you to give to Dawn for her birthday. Send one of your planes and that gorgeous hunk of a blond pilot to come and get me at once.”

  The blond hunk of a pilot in question, Jack, hurried around to help Maeve descend. Ty watched her as she murmured her thanks to Jack and made her way toward him. In her late fifties, Maeve was still beautiful, her honey-blonde hair just skimming her shoulders, her deep blue eyes gazing out on the world from a sculptured face that barely showed a wrinkle. When people first met her, they often made the mistake of dismissing Maeve as an airhead, but Ty knew that Maeve deliberately cultivated her dumb blonde persona as a strategy to get people to underestimate her. She got away with murder that way.

  When she reached him, he enfolded her in a bear hug. At 5'5”, she'd always been dwarfed both by her tall husband and by her son. Slender and petite, at only 120 pounds, she had an air of charming fragility about her.

  As soon as Maeve disengaged herself, Ty said, “So, where's the present?”

  Maeve turned eyes wide with astonishment upon him and responded, “Of course I didn't actually buy it, Ty. I'm just going to take you to the store where I found it so that you can get it. You have to buy it yourself.”

  “Why?”

  Maeve rolled her eyes. “Because it's your wife's birthday present, Ty. You have to be able to look into your wife's eyes and answer her truthfully when she says, 'Oh, it's beautiful, Ty. Wherever did you find it?'”

  “You could have bought it yourself and then just told me where you found it,” Ty pointed out.

  “She'd know. You're just going to have to trust me on this.”

  This particular excursion into the shopping arena was relatively painless, Ty considered as he helped his mother back into his car, parked in a space fortuitously close to Alexandres, the high-end jewelry store Maeve favored in the heart of Mountpelier's shopping district. Since Maeve had already viewed the items in question online and called Alexandre himself, an old friend, to have him set them aside for her, they had managed to get in and out of the store in record time. Now he had his purchase tucked away just in time for Dawn's birthday. His mother had been right. The ruby and diamond necklace with matching earrings was perfect for Dawn.

  As they pulled away from the curb and headed toward Fredo's, Maeve glanced back and watched with approval as a gray sedan pulled out behind them, tailing them from a discreet distance. Ty had originally balked at being shadowed by Lewellen Security, but she had insisted. Dealing with one kidnapping attempt on her only son had been enough, she'd told Ty. She wasn't sure she could live through another one. As she studied his profile next to her, she felt the familiar surge of fierce love for him that she'd felt from the moment he was born. She remembered holding him in her arms that first time, Sloan at her side, weak with relief that it was all over, and they had a healthy son. That reminded her...

  “I talked to your father this morning. He's joining us for dinner tonight.”

  “That's fine by me. Dad's always in the mood for some good Italian food.” Ty kept his voice cool and matter-of-fact as he replied. Deep in his heart, however, he felt a stab of relief and joy at this sign of thawing in his parents' somewhat frosty relationship.

  *****

  Dawn walked in through the bar entrance to Fredo's, nodding at several off-duty cops she recognized on her way through the bar to the private dining room. Because of its location across the street from Police Headquarters, Fredo's had always been a cop bar. Fredo himself had built a successful business by offering a combination of reasonably priced drinks and fabulous food. The rising fuel costs of the
last few years, however, had caused his operating costs to skyrocket. Unwilling to skimp on quality, Fredo had sunk deeper and deeper into debt. The business had been in real trouble. Then, shortly after Dawn's marriage to Ty, Sloan Lewellen had taken an interest in the place. He'd bought a half interest in the business, giving it a welcome shot in the arm. Able to buy supplies in bulk at the discount price offered to businesses under the umbrella of The Lewellen Group, the business had rebounded. Sloan had also bought the building next door, enabling Fredo to expand his bar and restaurant, and to add a private dining room and a banquet facility as well. Fredo still presided over the bar, and his wife, Rosa, still ran the kitchen with an iron hand, so everyone was happy. Especially Sloan, who recognized the value of making sure that his son and daughter-in-law had a convenient place to eat on those occasions when Dawn got tied up on a case. The office space above the private dining room and banquet facility could be put to good use as well.

  Leaning against the fireplace mantle at the far end of the private dining room, Tyrell and Sloan were arguing about the Mountpelier University football team's chances of making it to the semifinals. Maeve, seated in a comfortable armchair to the left of the fireplace, was sipping a glass of white wine and nodding occasionally, pretending to follow along with the conversation. A look of pure relief crossed her face when she saw who was standing in the doorway.

  “Dawn!” With the grace of a ballerina, Maeve arose and crossed the room, embracing her daughter-in-law warmly. “Come over to the fire. I ordered us some hors d'oeuvres to start with. Have some bruschetta, or the prosciutto cups. There's some marvelous antipasti as well.” As Maeve waved toward the tray on the coffee table set before the fire, a sparkling trail of light seemed to leap and dance from her left hand.