Ripped in Red

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Ripped in Red Page 6

by Cynthia Hickey


  “Patience. Mary has almost completed her tasks, right Mary?”

  She nodded. “One more. I’m ready. I’ve proven myself with Harold.”

  Draco sighed. “We do not say the names out loud of those who have left us.”

  Silence descended over the room as the implications of Mary’s slip of the tongue registered on the attendees. No matter. They needed to know the price of disobedience.

  “It is often difficult to mete out punishment,” Draco said, “even when the person needs it. In order to help you all take the next step, I’ve designed some tasks for you to fulfill. Jobs that will help you face your adversary and inact your revenge without showing that you are a novice. In the jar on the table are slips of paper. Each of you are to draw one. On it, you will find your assigned task. Don’t disappoint me, people.” He fixed a stern gaze on them. “Show me you can do these things. Show me you can stay one step ahead of the police. Only this will prove that you are worthy to be my follower.”

  Chairs scraped along the floor of Draco’s rented house. Not the place he called home, but rather his place of business. His followers formed a line and each took a slip of paper that would cause chaos in the town of Clear Springs.

  A grin spread across his face. If his beloved Cassidy could continue with her bravery despite the coming disasters, she would prove her worth.

  8

  Cassidy sat on the basement floor, boxes piled around her. Rosie lay staring at her with big dark eyes.

  She hadn’t slept a wink. Colin might have been in the next room but Cassidy couldn’t have been more aware of him if he’d snored in the same bed. What was wrong with her? She’d sworn off men for the sake of her career. Why would one handsome Scotsman with a sexy brogue and deep blue eyes rock her plans?

  “Coffee?” As if her thoughts had called him, the object of her lack of sleep handed her a steaming mug. “What are you doing?”

  “Thanks.” She took the drink. “Going back through my mother’s files. I must have missed something. With the new evidence, I thought it worth the time.”

  Colin sat cross-legged across from her and pulled a box to him. “It’s as good a plan as any.”

  Concentration was in short supply. Cassidy sneaked a peek at the man across from her. His dark hair was ruffled from sleep, his tee shirt faded, and baggy plaid lounge pants covered his long legs. She’d never seen anyone sexier. She sighed and dug further into the box.

  “I haven’t looked through everything,” she admitted. “Some of these boxes are my mother’s personal effects. It was too painful…until now.” It was still painful, but needed to be done in the light of the current situation.

  “I can do this if its too hard.” Colin gave her a lopsided grin. “I had to go through my parents’ things a few years back. Most difficult thing I ever did.”

  “I’m sorry about your parents. How did they die?”

  “House fire.” He sighed. “It was arson. They arrested a disgruntled neighbor a few days later. The man was angry over boundary lines.”

  “That’s rough.” They shared the fact both of their families were murdered. In an uncharacteristic gesture, Cassidy reached over and placed her hand on his. “The pain never goes away, does it?”

  “Never.” He handed her a leather book. “This looks like a journal. You should be the one to read it.”

  Her hand shook as she took the journal and flipped it open. “It’s my mother’s.” She scooted against the wall and started to read while Colin continued looking through the boxes. An hour later, she froze. This couldn’t be right.

  She read the words again. “I’m a product of rape.” She flipped through the pages again. “No name of her attacker, though.” The book fell into her lap. “Why didn’t she ever tell me?”

  “What?” Colin stopped what he was doing.

  “My mother wrote about the experience. She chose to keep me despite the violent act. Fought and injured the man and got away. That’s why she became a cop, so she could help victims.” Her eyes burned as her heart sank to her knees. “When I asked about my father, she always put me off, saying she’d tell me about him someday.”

  Who was Cassidy’s father? Had they ever caught him? That was one mystery she might never know. Still, her gut told her she knew the man, had seen him before. Would she recognize physical traits they shared?

  She shook off her thoughts and set the journal aside. They had multiple murders to solve. She could explore her genealogy at another time.

  “Here’s something.” Colin handed her a yellowed newspaper page. “Your mother answered an advertisement. The same as our first two victims.”

  Cassidy snatched the paper. “But our victims weren’t sexually assaulted.”

  “Maybe he’s too old.” Colin gave a wry grin. “Can’t…you know.”

  “Don’t be crude.” She set the paper next to the journal. “My mother was almost twenty when she had me. Right around the same age as our victims. He’s evolved. More in control of his actions.”

  “I agree. It was a poor joke.” He closed the box and reached for another one. “We need to check the police records at the time your mother was attacked, then later when she was murdered. See what the officers thought about the situation.”

  “I’ve read everything I could find on her murder, but didn’t know about the rape. We’ll go when we’ve finished these boxes.” They might find something else to help them in their search.

  They didn’t. By the time they finished going through the boxes they’d uncovered nothing more of interest other than the journal and the newspaper. “I’m hitting the shower,” Cassidy said, “then I’ll be ready to dig through the police files.”

  “I’m making more coffee and omelets. You have to be starving.” He unfolded his lean frame and took her hand, pulling her to her feet.

  Handsome and could cook? “I am hungry.” She bounded up the steps, taking the book and paper with her and hurried to the bathroom.

  She couldn’t help but glance in every crevice and corner for hidden cameras. No way did she want The Dragon, she smirked at his name, to see her in the shower. She turned the water to hot and disrobed, draping the shorts and tee shirt she’d slept in over the toilet.

  Adjusting the faucet to a comfortable temperature, she stepped into the shower, wrapped her arms around her middle, and cried. No wonder her mother hadn’t wanted to talk about Cassidy’s father. How horrifying the experience must have been. A young woman right out of high school, her future promising, attacked and left pregnant by a monster.

  She raised her face to the spray and let the water wash away her tears. She’d managed to hold it together with Colin, but now, alone, she let the grief swamp her. When her tears were spent, she washed her hair and body and toweled dry.

  She stepped out of the room to the aroma of frying bacon. So far, having Colin around hadn’t been a hardship other than her heightened awareness of him. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She couldn’t let her emotions run rampant around him. Caring for another only opened one’s heart to ache.

  ~

  The vulnerability on his partner’s face when she’d read the journal had ripped at his heart. He’d wanted to comfort her, but knowing that wouldn’t go over well, had told a bad joke instead. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t usually an insensitive person.

  He flipped the omelet onto a plate and set it in the oven to keep warm while he cooked the second one. When Cassidy perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, he removed the first omelet and slid it to her. “Feel better?”

  “A little.”

  “Must have been a shock.” He wanted to comfort her the same way he did the relatives of murdered victims. But, Cassidy was different. No simple pat on the hand would suffice. Not when he wanted to pull her into his arms and cradle her against his chest. With her standoffish attitude, that wasn’t a good idea.

  She fed a bite of egg to the dog. Having the biggest German Shepherd he’d ever laid eyes on, one that
was trained to protect, eased his mind somewhat. He wouldn’t need to keep his eyes on his partner every second if Rosie was around.

  His omelet finished, he sat on a stool next to Cassidy and dug into his breakfast. “Scanning old newspapers will be time consuming, but all we need is a little something to help us along.”

  “I think we need to question the friends.” Cassidy left a few bites on her plate and set it on the floor for Rosie to lick clean. “I know we did preliminary questions, and that they all said they hadn’t seen the victims the night they died, but I want to dig deeper.”

  “I don’t think they know the killer. The victims were both visiting family here.”

  “I know, but I’m at a dead end here, Colin.” Her face was lined with stress.

  “I’m starting to agree with Ingram.” He eyed the loose pants and shirt she had on. “I think you need to start dressing like one of the pretty people and lure this freak out of hiding.”

  She sighed. “Such a bother. I worked hard to get where I’m at in my career. Looking like a fashion plate won’t help me be taken seriously.”

  “It’s all about the attitude.” He grinned. “If you act kick ass, people will think you are. You can do that in stilettos as well as work boots.”

  “Stilettos are out of the question. I’ll break my neck.” She slid from the stool. “I’ll go see what I have in my closet. There may be a shopping trip in my future.”

  He laughed. “You make that sound like a death sentence.”

  “It is.” She motioned for Rosie to follow, and left the kitchen.

  The doorbell rang. Colin waited for Cassidy to give the order for Rosie to guard. When it didn’t come, he peered out the peephole in the door. Most killers didn’t ring the doorbell.

  Agent Ingram stood on the porch, the other two agents waiting by the car. This did not look good.

  Colin opened the door. “Sir?”

  “Mail for Monroe.” He handed Colin a large Manilla envelope. “We’ve scanned it for anything hazardous. Seems clean, but we thought she should open it right away.”

  “She’s upstairs getting dressed. Come on in.” Colin turned and almost stumbled over Rosie. Good girl. Silent as a wraith and as vigilant as the best cop. Her eyes never left Ingram.

  “There’s coffee in the kitchen,” Colin said. “Will Smith and Wesson be coming in?” He couldn’t say their names without grinning.

  “No. They’re on guard duty, but I’d love a cup.”

  Soon, they sat at the breakfast bar, sipping coffee, waiting for Cassidy to come downstairs. Colin told Ingram their plans on looking through old newspaper articles, but left out the full reason why. He also explained about wanting to question friends and family deeper.

  “This case is a tough one,” Ingram said. “Bodies are piling up, no evidence is left behind, we’re dealing with more than one perp, and we’re getting nowhere.”

  “We can’t give up.” Cassidy stepped into the room. Her makeup had been artfully applied, her hair straightened down her back in an curtain of fire. A navy blue suit fit her as if tailored for her. A sea green blouse complimented her eyes.

  Colin’s gaze flicked to her feet. The same black work boots. Still, the woman was stunning.

  Ingram smiled. “You clean up nice, Monroe.”

  “This had better work.” She poured coffee into a travel thermos. “It takes three times as long to get ready when I have to go this kind of trouble.”

  “At least the view is better.” Ingram clapped her on the shoulder. “Let’s go to work.”

  ~

  Draco stood in the shadows between two buildings across the street from the bank and watched as two of his followers tossed a pipe bomb through the open door of a vacant building. No one would be injured…this time, but it would bring his darling Cassidy running to the scene.

  The two doing his bidding jumped into a waiting car and sped away as people flocked onto the sidewalk to see what the commotion was about. Fifteen minutes later, the FBI crows in the black suits and black SUV pulled up, followed by Cassidy and her partner in the jeep.

  Draco smiled as his darling exited the vehicle, looking like one of the FBI agents. Only, her beauty shown as radiate as the fire spewing from the bombed building’s shattered windows. Yes, he had a personal grievance against beautiful people, but despite her professional demeanor, Cassidy Monroe was more beautiful on the inside than out. He’d seen her care for the citizens of Clear Springs. Watched as she put in more than one hundred percent effort in catching criminals. Beautiful, yes, but smart, and…his.

  With one last adoring glance at her, he turned and headed down the alley toward his car. The pipe bomb was only the beginning. He needed to supervise the next follower’s orders. He rubbed his hands together. It was going to be wonderful!

  “Hey, mister! You can’t park there.” A man in a white apron exited the back door of the bakery. “Employees only. Can’t you read?”

  Keeping his face averted, Draco tossed the man a flippant wave and sped from the alley. Now, he’d have to drive his second favorite car. The baker was bound to have gotten the make and model of the car. Not the license plate, though. He grinned. That he kept too dirty to read.

  9

  “Stay.” Cassidy commanded Rosie to remain in the car and shut the door, leaving the window open against the warm morning, then turned to survey the hectic scene.

  Flames billowed from the storefront and ate at the roof. Glass littered the sidewalk like confetti. “Was anyone injured or killed?”

  One of the first responders, an EMT she had yet to meet, answered, “No. Just an explosion.”

  “Any witnesses?”

  “That baker over there came running over a minute ago. He’s waiting to talk to someone.”

  She nodded and headed for the man in a white apron. “Sir, I’m Detective Monroe. Do you have information for us?”

  He glanced toward the alley. “I’m not sure it’s related, but right after the explosion, I saw a man in a dark Mercedes speeding out of the alley. I called to him to stop, but he kept going. Customers are not allowed in the alley.”

  “License plate?”

  “Too dirty to see.” The man frowned. “That was the strange part. The rest of the car, and the man, were immaculate.”

  “Rosie!” Cassidy motioned for the dog and Colin to join her. “Thank you, sir. You’ve been very helpful.”

  Rosie bounded from the car window and sprinted to Cassidy’s side a second before Colin joined her. The three of them headed into the alley as Cassidy explained what the witness saw.

  The alley was empty of all but a few cars, none of them a Mercedes. Not that Cassidy expected to see the perpetrator still hanging around. While Colin studied the tire tracks, she began the arduous task of knocking on business doors.

  She hit pay dirt on door number three. An elderly lady who smelled of chocolate answered.

  “I saw a rusty pickup truck pull away from across the street seconds before the explosion,” she explained. “It had two men inside. I think they were men.”

  “Why didn’t you report this when the authorities showed up?” Cassidy’s pencil poised over her notepad.

  “I didn’t know if there would be more explosions. I’m a simple candy store owner, not a vigilante. Finding these people is your job.”

  “Yes, ma’am, and we’re doing our best but we can always use the help of the community.”

  “That’s not what my tax dollars pay for.” She slammed the door.

  Cassidy shook her head. Two vehicles, one luxury, one not, were seen fleeing the scene. Which one, or both, were involved?

  She scanned up and down the alley. “Do you think it’s The Dragon?” How she hated that name.

  “No clue. He didn’t leave us much to go on, if it is.” Colin straightened and snapped a picture of the tire tracks. “Let’s head back to the station. I still need to look through the morning’s paper, and you can get started on the old issues.”

 
She nodded and glanced in the direction the Mercedes had gone. A sheet of paper danced on a slight breeze. Following her instinct, she darted for it, chasing the paper until it stopped against a cement wall. She lifted it by the corner. Printed on it were the words:

  Detective Monroe:

  Are you enjoying our little game? Can you prove yourself worthy to be my assailant? We have more in common than you know.

  Draco

  “It was him.” She said, hurrying back to Colin and handing him the note. “He’s playing a silly game.”

  Colin’s mouth twisted in thought. “No one died, which leaves me to believe he didn’t want them to. When he kills, it’s personal.”

  “Personal to his accomplices, too.” Cassidy sighed. How could she keep up with the man without clues? A single sheet of paper and a set of tire tracks wouldn’t reveal his identity. “I can look for someone in the system named Draco, but I’m sure it’s an alias.” They didn’t even have enough for Rosie to track. She bit back a curse. Her mother had once told her that if you had to curse to be interesting, then you weren’t interesting to begin with. Still, times that like this made it difficult to keep a civil tongue.

  Most people in law enforcement cursed with regularity. Cassidy was determined to be different. Not only in the way she handled herself, but in how she did her job. She glanced heavenward. I could use some help right about now. From her mother, from God, she wasn’t picky.

  After letting Agent Ingram know about the note and statements from the witnesses, Cassidy opened the door to the jeep to let Rosie in, then climbed in herself. The note proved The Dragon was responsible. Thus, the FBI could supervise casing the scene, freeing her and Colin to head back to the station.

  Once there, she made a pot of coffee, filled two mugs, and joined her partner in front of the case board they worked on with the FBI. After handing Colin his coffee, she tacked up the note and two cards with the descriptions of the vehicles. Perching on her desk, she sipped her coffee and studied the board. Nothing but murders and games.

  She sighed and sat at her desk, opening her laptop and logging into the site that gave her access to old newspapers. She typed in her mother’s name and started searching.

 

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