“Feeling emasculated?” She quirked an eyebrow.
“Not anymore.” He grinned and sat at a table for two under the red and white striped awning. The night was cool, but the view in front of him was hot.
Long shapely legs under sagging shorts. A too-big-for-her tee shirt, and a cascade of red hair. Even dressed as she was, Cassidy was definitely the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He was one lucky Scot.
Her amazing emerald eyes narrowed as she approached the table. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Admiring the view.”
“Right.” She shook her head as she took her seat.
“You seemed jumpy when I got to your house.” He folded his arms on the table. “Mind telling me why? Don’t say it’s because I surprised you. You weren’t that surprised to see someone in your house. Why?”
She sighed. “My closet door was open when I got home.”
He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “That’s it?”
“I never leave it open. You saw me prepare to leave tonight.”
True. She had checked her closet and made sure it was closed tight. “Did you sweep the place?”
“Yes.” She shrugged. “I’m sure I was preoccupied this morning.”
“Don’t brush it off.” He’d make sure he checked her home before leaving for the night. It could be nothing, but with the type of person they were dealing with, he wasn’t taking any chances. From the stern look on Cassidy’s face, she wasn’t either, no matter how inconsequential she tried to make things look.
“May I take a look at the case board on your mother’s murder?” He asked as a young man brought their food. “I know you have one.”
Her gaze could cut steel. “Why?”
“Maybe I’ll catch something you’ve missed.”
“I haven’t missed anything.” She pointed a french fry in his direction. “Now that we suspect she was killed by the same man who killed these women, I’ll take a deeper look.”
“It can’t hurt to have two sets of eyes going over it.” He bit into beefy heaven. Bacon grease mixed with cheese on top of a well-cooked burger and a homemade bun. “This is wonderful.”
“I come here a couple of times a week.”
“I can see why. What’s our plan for tomorrow?”
“The morgue. Maybe the medical examiner can tell us something new.” She dipped her fry into an orangish sauce. “We’ve got to get a break soon, or this case will join the cold case files.”
He put his hand over hers. “We’ll catch this guy. Have faith. My guess is…he’ll come to us.”
~
Draco watched from his parked car as the detectives enjoyed their food. He’d followed them from Cassidy’s home, pleased to see that the man hadn’t stayed long and Cassidy left wearing the least sexy and revealing item in her closet. Still, those were her nightclothes. She needed to be careful. Any infraction with the Scot would result in serious consequences. She belonged to Draco. No one else. One day, she would realize this.
He lowered his binoculars, still able to see them clearly, even though Cassidy’s gorgeous features were a bit blurred by the rain. The bible said that a woman’s beauty should come from within. Her’s radiated so brightly, it dimmed the sun. She was truly a jewel among women. Just as her mother had been, before succumbing to the lure of vanity.
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Mary Jones. Her killing of the first woman on her list had been sloppy. No finesse. “Yes?”
“When can I do the other one?”
“You need some training, Mary.”
“I know I got carried away. It won’t happen again.” Her smoker’s voice rattled, grating on his nerves.
“Perhaps, you can practice on Harold.”
“The man who left the first meeting? I don’t have anything against him.”
“He’ll talk. Do you want to go to jail?”
“I don’t care. I have nothing. But, I’d at least like to take care of my ungrateful step-sisters first. Fine. What do you want me to do?”
“Make yourself as presentable as possible and lure dear Harold to me. I’ll take you through it step-by-step.” He hung up before she could argue further. Poor Mary was going to be a trial. Draco expected unquestioning obedience. Something she lacked. After one more look through the binoculars at his heart’s desire, he turned the key in the ignition of his jeep and drove home, twirling the pair of black satin panties he’d stolen from Cassidy’s drawer on his finger.
5
Cassidy slathered Vicks under her nose, gave Colin a wry smile, and then pushed open the door to the morgue housed in the hospital of a neighboring town. The smell under her nose didn’t quite mask the odor coming from the examining table in front of her, but it helped.
Olivia Sparrow, the medical examiner, looked up with a grim expression. “Nasty.”
No argument there. “What can you tell us?”
“I don’t think these women were killed by the same perp.” She pulled the sheet from the first victim. “Here, the throat was slit with one deep slash. A strong person.” She moved to the other girl. “This one…some of the axe marks aren’t deep…more like the attacker was tiring.”
Cassidy stepped aside as Colin leaned in for a closer look. “Any evidence on the perp?”
“No fibers, if that’s what you’re asking.” Olivia shook her head. “Other than threads from the gown she wore. But…” she grinned. “We do have a partial print from the button on Amber Wilson’s gown.” She handed a sheet of paper to Cassidy. “I’ve already sent it to forensics.”
“I doubt he’s in the system, but good job.” She folded the paper and put it in her pocket.
“Look.” Colin pointed to drops on Amber’s ankle. “This her blood?”
“I haven’t checked.” Olivia withdrew a cotton swab from a nearby jar and took a sample of the blood. “It could be.”
Colin straightened. “Or, we could have gotten a break.”
Like the fingerprint, Cassidy doubted the killer’s DNA was on file. But, if he was the one who killed her mother, the print would prove it. They’d found a partial on the scene then, too. Almost as if the killer left them bread crumbs, then swept everything away when the cops got too close. She’d make a phone call once she returned to the precinct. If it was the same man, then she’d let Colin look at the case board on her mother’s murder.
For the first time in years, hope sprang anew. Maybe Cassidy could finally get the justice she’d been seeking.
She grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and wiped the Vicks from her upper lip on the way out the door. “I want to see whether this print is in the database or not. We can do that from the office.”
“What do you think about the ME’s opinion on multiple unsubs?” Colin held her jeep door open for her.
“I think Olivia is correct.” She slid into the driver’s seat and waited until Colin got in before speaking again. “My gut tells me the crimes are related, but I haven’t put together how. I also want to check the newspaper again and see whether another ad coincided with the second victim.”
“I can look for that while you search for the print.” Colin clicked his seatbelt into place. “We’ll catch this guy.”
“There are no guarantees.” She drove down the freeway toward town.
Hopefully, Colin was right. Cassidy hated being a pessimist, but life had taught her to never get her hopes too high. When she did, something dashed them into a million pieces. Every time.
She parked in front of the police station and headed inside, leaving Colin to follow. She needed to know without a doubt whether the print found on Amber’s dress matched the one at the scene of her mother’s murder.
At her desk, she booted up her computer and scanned in the print. While she waited, she chewed the cuticle on her left thumb.
Finally. The print came back as a match. Still no name in the system, but it was definitely the same killer.
She slumped in her chair. “It’s th
e same.”
Colin raised an eyebrow. “As your mother’s killer?”
“Yes.” She ducked her head before he saw the tears in her eyes. She’d waited so long for a break in her mother’s case. “I’ll show you the case board now.”
~
Colin followed Cassidy into her basement. Against one wall hung a giant chalkboard. He maneuvered through stacks of boxes to get closer.
She swiveled the board to show photos, post it notes, and index cards placed in chronological order. “I’ve done everything I can to keep up with what was happening before the case was closed. Until today, I had nothing new to add in a very long time.” She wrote “prints from Amber Wilson match prints found next to Maureen Monroe” on an index card and tacked it to the corkboard.
“You’ve managed to collect quite a bit.” He peered at the photo of her mother in a royal blue gown. Her throat was slit the same as Amber Wilson. And, like the younger woman, she was quite beautiful. Cassidy was almost a dead ringer for her mother. “You said you grew up in foster care. Where’s your father?”
“Mom never told me about him, no matter how many times I asked.”
“She was young when she had you.”
“Nineteen, almost twenty.” Cassidy leaned against a folding table. “I didn’t pry. It was clear the subject of my father hurt her to talk about.”
“Hmm.” He turned and scanned the crowded basement. Most of the boxes were marked as her mother’s things. “I think we should start another case board for Amber and Samantha. Keep it close by and compare with your mother’s. I think there will be a lot of overlapping.”
“Did you find anything in the newspaper?”
“Yep. Another advertisement for modeling. I’ve asked for a paper to be on my desk first thing every morning.” He motioned with his head for her to follow him upstairs. They’d headed straight for the basement upon arriving. “Go through your house and see if anything is out of place.” He still thought Cassidy was the killer’s target this time around. If he didn’t plan on killing her, he had something else planned. It wouldn’t hurt to search the house for bugs, then install a better security system no matter how against such measures she was.
He followed her around the downstairs and then up to her bedroom. The closet door was ajar.
“I know I closed it this morning. I was extra careful after yesterday.” She moved to close it.
“Wait.” He pulled his weapon from his shoulder holster. “Let me check out the closet. You look around the rest of the room.”
He opened the door enough to step inside the small walk-in. Clothes filled half the space, confirming that Cassidy wasn’t like other women. All the women he knew had jammed closets.
A few shoeboxes and a small safe occupied the top shelf. There. Tucked into the corner was a small hole. As his gaze locked on the camera, he heard a soft hiss. He held his breath too late and toppled to the floor.
When he woke, Cassidy bent over him. Her eyes clouded with worry. “What happened?” she asked.
“There’s a camera in the corner and some sort of gas released.” He forced himself to cough and crawled out of the closet. “I’m calling my security friend.”
“Why didn’t the gas release this morning when I got dressed?” She grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet.
“He doesn’t want to harm you…yet.” He sat on the edge of her bed and cradled his pounding head in his hands. “I held my breath as soon as I heard the release. I’ll be fine.” If he hadn’t been paying attention, he could be dead.
“You need to go to the hospital.”
“If I’m not dead now, the gas isn’t going to kill me.” He dug his cell phone from his pocket and dialed his friend. After getting assurance he’d be there within the hour, Colin held a finger to his lips, then whispered. “No talking until the house is checked out.”
“Then, at least lay down.” She tried to push him back on the bed.
“Not alone.” He winked.
“For crying out loud, Colin! Now is not the time to be a flirt.” She rolled her eyes. “You could have died.”
“But, I didn’t. A drink of water would be nice, though.” Anything to wash the bitter taste out of his throat.
“I’ll be right back.” She ducked into the bathroom.
Colin stared at the closet. The fact the gas released when Colin entered the closet told him a lot. It told him that the suspect would go to great lengths to remove Colin from the picture, and that they were being watched.
~
Draco laughed and turned off his computer. He was going to have a lot of fun with the Scotsman. Happy to have a worthy adversary for once, two if he counted the lovely Cassidy. He headed downstairs to help Mary take care of Harold.
“My dear man.” Draco patted the bound man on the shoulder. “I hope you understand that we can’t allow you to roam the streets after finding out what our little group is about. Perhaps…God will help you.” He laughed, remembering the man’s parting words.
Harold squealed under his gag and cast a wide-eyed glance at poor Mary. The woman had made an attempt to appear more attractive, but the mustard-yellow blouse she wore did nothing for her complexion. Some people were doomed to be ugly. People like Draco. He ran a finger over the thick scar on his face. He’d been handsome once. Women had thrown themselves at him. No more. Now, people like him would rule the world; driven and powerful with the need for revenge.
He picked up a filet knife from the coffee table and stepped onto the plastic around Harold’s chair. “I’m going to teach you patience, Mary. Now, you don’t need to take your time with your victims. A quick, clean death is good enough, but after your overkill…well, you need to learn to take your time, just a little.” He ran the thin blade down Harold’s arm. Tiny drops of blood beaded in the cut.
“Have you ever fileted a fish, Mary? No? Well, you insert the knife like so…”
Harold screamed under his gag as Draco shaved off a layer of skin.
Draco handed the knife to Mary. “Practice, dear. I’ll watch from the sofa. Don’t make a mess. The less mess, the less we have to clean up.”
Like an indulgent father, he watched his prodigy work.
6
Cassidy filled her mug with coffee and took a seat in the conference room. The FBI wanted everyone involved in the recent murders to watch the latest snuff film together. It wasn’t exactly the way she preferred to start her morning.
Agent Ingram directed everyone’s attention to the big screen at one end of the room, then pushed play on his computer. The other two FBI agents stood on each side of the screen like bookends.
Cassidy set her mug down and picked up her pen to jot notes. A person in black approached the woman tied to a tree and paused as if to say something, a hand holding an axe raised in preparation. The victim’s mouth opened in a silent scream as the axe fell.
“That killer is a woman,” Cassidy said. “She’s still dressed in black as the first killer, but definitely a woman. Look at the hands and the way she carries herself.”
“Good observation, Detective.” Agent Ingram gave a grim smile. “We believe we are dealing with more than one perpetrator. The motive is still unclear.”
“The words at both crime scenes gives us the motive,” Colin said, taking a seat next to Cassidy. “The pretty must die. The answer we need to find is why? What do these people have against goodlooking people?”
“Revenge of some sort?” Cassidy took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. Their receptionist must make the worst coffee ever. “Perhaps they were wronged in some way?”
“Why are they targeting you, Detective Monroe?” Agent Ingram crossed his muscled arms. “Yes, we know your house was bugged and that Detective MacKenzie has updated your security system.”
Cassidy cut a sideways glance at Colin. Traitor. “I believe these murders are somehow connected to my mother’s murder ten years ago. The same words were found next to her body.”
Ingram nodded. “I want
MacKenzie with you at all times. He’ll be moving into your home after this meeting.”
“Sir!” No way. Cassidy valued her privacy and independence. She liked things done a certain way. Another person would disrupt all that.
“No arguments. Meeting adjourned.”
“Shut up.” Cassidy glared at Colin, who grinned like an idiot, and gathered her things. “We have work to do.”
“What’s on the agenda?”
“Have you checked the newspaper today?”
“Yes, and nothing.”
“Why do you think that is?” She moved from the conference room and down the hall to the office she shared with Colin.
“The first killer places the ads for his own reasons. The second killer chose her victim.” He perched on the corner of her desk, moving when Cassidy stared at the desk, then him.
“Got another body,” Ingram called on his way past the office. “Out near Highway 64.”
Colin grabbed the jeep keys from Cassidy’s desk and dashed out before she could take them back. She was supposed to live with him? Impossible.
They followed the FBI agents to a culvert that ran under the highway. The air filled with the slamming of car doors as everyone emerged and converged on the crime scene.
Cassidy slid down the embankment and stared at the body of a man skinned like a fish. “This is different.” She squatted next to the body. “Every murder is different. The amount of time it took to do this. It can’t be the same killer as the one who used the ax.” Unless the second killer was evolving, and very quickly.
No one could call the man goodlooking, either. A bulbous nose and overweight, he reminded her a bit of the cartoon character Mr. Toad.
“Not connected?” Agent Ingram stood next to her.
“It doesn’t make sense. Until this week, Clear Springs had a low crime rate. Murders were unheard of.” She stood. “Now, we have three in as many days.” She scanned the treeline, the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention. She withdrew her weapon and darted into the trees.
Ripped in Red Page 4
