Ripped in Red

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Ripped in Red Page 10

by Cynthia Hickey


  She frowned. It wasn’t a competition, yet she looked at it as one. She quickly made the remaining calls, came up with zip, and then stood, glancing at Ingram. “Do we take the names we each have?”

  “You two take yours. We’ll take the rest. No one interviews anyone alone,” he said. “Understood?” He cast a stern dark-eyed gaze around the table. “In fact, I think it wise that the two of you take Weston with you. The danger to Monroe is too great.”

  They all nodded and gathered their things.

  While Cassidy didn’t need a babysitter, having a third person around would help keep things less tense between her and Colin. Maybe her and Weston could be friends. She could use a girlfriend. Especially the other night. Hashing over her feelings for Colin, sharing a bottle of wine, talking about…what did close friends talk about?

  She studied the cool, but beautiful features of the FBI agent. She didn’t look like she was in the market for a friend. Smith and Weston rarely spoke, unlike Ingram.

  “We’ll take the rented SUV,” Weston said. “The killer knows Monroe’s vehicle. Knocking on the door and flashing our badges is all the announcement we need.” She marched out of the building ahead of them.

  Cassidy tossed Colin a surprised look. “Do you think she’s upset to play bodyguard?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s just get through the day.” He leaned close, giving her a teasing whiff of his musky cologne. “I think she has a thing for Ingram.”

  “Really?” Cassidy glanced at the other two men. “Interesting.”

  “Maybe we can get her to open up to us.” He winked and held the front door open.

  Her heart did a somersault. Relieved to not feel the usual tension between them, she hurried to the SUV and got in the backseat with Rosie. The dog had found an empty spot in Cassidy’s heart. She couldn’t imagine going anywhere without her now.

  The moment Colin’s seatbelt clicked into place, Weston began barking orders. “I do the talking. I knock, announce myself, and enter any residence first. There are vests in the back. Each of you are to wear one. Do not pull your weapon for any reason unless I pull mine first.”

  “What if the suspect fires first and you’re down?” Cassidy couldn’t help the jab. “Can we think for ourselves then?”

  Weston glared at her through the rearview mirror. “Keep your wits and sarcasm. Today could very well be the day we catch a killer.”

  Cassidy squelched any thought of them being friends. Oh, well. She had Rosie. She didn’t need anyone else. Instead, she stared at the back of Colin’s head and thought of things that might be possible…if she let her guard down. Which she had no intention of doing.

  “Remember. I take the lead,” Weston reminded them as they pulled in front of a well-maintained home built in the 1950s. She cast a warning look over her shoulder at Cassidy, then exited the vehicle.

  Cassidy told Rosie to stay and followed the agent and Colin to the front door. She stood a few feet away from Weston and peered through a crack in the curtains. “Television is on, but I don’t see anyone.”

  “Get away from the window.” Weston shook her head. “Bullets shatter glass.”

  Cassidy sighed. She wasn’t an imbecile, but unless they were very lucky and the killer was actually at home with open curtains, she didn’t think they were in much danger.

  They were just turning to leave when an African American man answered the door. A knife scar ran from his temple past his eye.

  “FBI.” Weston showed her badge. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “I’ve not had any trouble in years,” the man said. “Ask what you want from out here.”

  “How did you get that scar?”

  “Gang fight.” He crossed his arms. “But I don’t live that life no more.”

  “He doesn’t fit the profile.” Weston thanked him for his time and headed back to the SUV.

  It went that way for most of the day. One after the other they ticked off the names on their list as non-suspects.

  Frustration gnawed at Cassidy the way Rosie chewed on a rawhide. The killer had to be close. He had to have a scar down his face. While all the men they’d interviewed were the right age, it was obvious most of them weren’t the killer. Half of them had never gone to college and had received their wounds in fights and accidents.

  They stopped for lunch at a fast food Mexican place and ate in the car. Colin had been unusually quiet the first half of the day.

  “I have two names left on my list. One is a man in his mid-fifties,” he said. “The age is right. He received thirty stitches on the left side of his face twenty-five years ago. The other man is also in his fifties and the scar is along the neck. He almost bled out, according to the ER records. My guess…we visit the first guy. Maureen may have wounded her attacker, but I just don’t feel like she could have gotten in a good enough whack to almost kill him.”

  Weston turned in her seat. “I’ve read your file. You have good instincts. Both of you do. So, if that’s what your gut is telling you, that’s where we’ll go next. I need to check in with Agent Ingram.” She exited the car and punched numbers into her cell phone. Immediately a grin spread across her face.

  “So she can smile,” Cassidy said. “I was starting to wonder.”

  “You don’t reign as Ice Queen anymore. Not with her around.”

  “Who calls me that?” She stabbed a piece of carne asada with her plastic fork.”

  “Everyone. I did, too, until…” he sighed. “Now, you’re the Bull Dog.”

  “Ugh. I prefer Ice Queen.”

  “Sorry, but you’ve been knocked off your frigid throne.” He leaned forward and peered closer at Weston. “Something’s wrong.”

  The agent slid back into the driver’s seat. “We have another body. Interviews will have to wait.” She cursed, thrust the vehicle into drive and sped down the highway.

  ~

  “This isn’t The Dragon’s work.” Colin stared at the knife wounds to the victim’s face. “He would never mar her beauty.”

  “One of his followers?” Cassidy squatted next to the body. “There has to be either followers or copycats either doing his bidding or with agendas of their own.”

  Which would make it extremely hard to find and arrest them all. He knelt next to his partner and studied the body close up. “She reeks of alcohol. We need to visit the bars in the area. See if anyone recognizes her.” He glanced around the area. “No purse.”

  Cassidy tapped the woman’s hip. “I think her ID is in her underwear.” She shrugged at Colin’s glance. “Where else is she supposed to carry it? Turn around.”

  He averted his gaze while she fished out the woman’s ID. “Same last name as one of our other victims.”

  “Sisters?” He took the driver’s license. “We might have finally gotten a break.”

  “Find a common enemy.” Cassidy pushed to her feet. “Do that first or interview scar face.”

  “That’s cruel.”

  “It’s nothing compared to what I’m going to do with the man when we catch him.” She stepped aside while the emergency personnel zipped the body into a bag. “I think he distracts us with dead bodies to keep us from getting too close.”

  “How so?” Colin leaned against the side of the SUV.

  “Well…” She took her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Colin took a deep breath to halt the effect of what even that small gesture did to him.

  “We find out that he’s scarred in the face and start interviewing. We find a body—” She held up a hand to stop him from saying anything. “I know this woman was killed before we started knocking on doors. The point is…he’s one step ahead all the time. He’s smart enough to know we’re low on law enforcement personnel and that dropping crumbs like some perverted Hansel and Gretel, he can keep us from zeroing in on one thing.”

  “She’s right.” Ingram joined them. “I’ve called for reinforcements. We’re stretched too thin. They should arrive in the morning. I know al
l this is out of your jurisdiction, Monroe, but I appreciate the hard work.”

  “Why not Colin’s jurisdiction?”

  “He’s been a detective a lot longer and was almost recruited by the FBI.” He gave Cassidy an indulgent smile. “You’re learning on one case what it took us to learn over several.”

  “Lucky me.” She exhaled sharply. “Let’s use those computer skills of yours, Colin, and watch this latest video before we knock on more doors. We can visit the bar later.”

  “Yes, boss.” He grinned at Ingram. “At least she’s pretty.”

  The agent laughed. “Lucky man. You’ve got both the women.”

  There was only one he wanted, though, and she shied away like a skittish horse if his hand so much as brushed hers. He chuckled along with the other man, hiding his feelings, then left to join the women.

  Several minutes later he’d located the video. “See how the killer stands? It’s definitely the same woman who killed this victim’s relative.”

  “Why haven’t we seen videos other than The Dragon and this woman?” Weston asked. “Do you think she’s his only accomplice?”

  “No. There were the ones who set off the bomb on Main Street, then the man pretending to be a photographer. There’s no telling how many followers he has.” Colin kept his gaze glued at the screen. “Last time, it was almost as if she was performing for someone. I don’t think our dragon is there this time.”

  “She’s flying solo?” Cassidy leaned closer, her hair brushing Colin’s cheek.

  He took a deep whiff of floral-scented shampoo. “That’s why she’s taking her time with the face.”

  “That looks like a scalpel.” Cassidy tapped the screen. “She could work in the medical field.”

  “We can’t call every doctor’s office in the state of Arkansas. We need something else to narrow our search.” He scanned the edges of the video feed. Trees, trees, and…wait a minute. He squinted. “Does that look like a car in the bushes?”

  Soon he was flanked on the other side by Weston. If he wasn’t so enamored by his partner, he’d be in any man’s dream. He shook off his thoughts. “A dark blue sedan?”

  “I can’t make out the license plate.” Weston straightened. “Forward to this email. I’ll have our technicians take a look. Maybe they can zoom in enough to read the numbers.”

  A mere second later the video was soaring through cyber space. They may have gotten another break.

  He crooked both arms to the women. “Let’s go catch a killer.”

  15

  “This is it.” Cassidy glanced at the name on the paper, Russell Ball, and the expensive looking apartments in front of them.

  “Same orders as before,” Weston said as she marched through the double glass doors of the building.

  Cassidy was getting tired of her bossy attitude. Counting to ten, she followed the agent into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. A penthouse apartment, at least in these parts.

  When the elevator stopped, Colin ushered the women out first. “Let’s make this quick. It’s been a long day and we still need to talk to the bartender.”

  “Quick and thorough,” Weston pointed out.

  “That’s right, Colin.” Cassidy smirked, teasing. “Remember your priorities.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, sending her insides quivering.

  “You two stop playing around.” Weston pressed the doorbell and held her badge to the peep hole. “FBI.”

  The door cracked open and blue eyes peered out. “One second, please.” They heard the sounds of a chain being removed and the door swung open.

  Russell Ball’s scar started right below his left eye and into the curve of his lips, twisting them into a joker-style grin. “Come in.” He waved his arm in a grand gesture.

  Cassidy glanced around a modern, immaculate apartment. If not for dishes containing the remnants of the man’s meal, she’d doubt anyone lived there. She returned the man’s stare, keeping her features impassive at his disfigurement.

  “I’m Agent Weston. This is Detective Monroe and Detective MacKenzie. I see we’ve disturbed your dinner and will be as brief as possible.” She flinched and averted her eyes from his face.

  “Have a seat.” Ball’s eyes narrowed as he motioned to the pale gray sofa. “I was finished eating. How may I help you?”

  Weston sat on the edge of the sofa and leaned her elbows on her knees. “Let’s start with how you got that scar?” She swallowed hard.

  “That’s a bit rude, but all right.” His smile faded. “A terrible car accident many years ago.”

  Weston flipped through pages on her clipboard. “I have no record of you being in a car accident. Only that you went to an Urgent Care facility twenty-five years ago for what they described as a knife wound.”

  He shrugged. “The facility was overworked that night. An honest mistake.”

  “Did you know a Maureen Monroe?”

  He thought, placing a finger on his lips. “I don’t believe so.”

  “From college? A frat party, maybe?”

  “Definitely not. I stayed to myself in college. My education was more important than chasing skirts. My college transcripts will attest to that.” His gaze flicked to Cassidy.

  “Mr. Ball.” Cassidy took a deep breath. “On the night you received that wound, a woman was viciously attacked. A woman that happens to be my mother. She cut her attacker. You are one of three men who were at the party, but not seen again after her attack. Where did you go?”

  He scratched his chin. “You’re investigating an attack that happened twenty-five years ago? How should I know where I went?”

  “You strike me as an intelligent man,” she said. “I think you know very well where you were. An attack on a woman would leave an impression on anyone.”

  “Fine.” He bent and hung his hands between his knees. “I was at the party. I left to snort a line of coke and passed out next to the pool. I can’t let this mar my record. I’m a successful businessman.”

  “Do you have an alibi?”

  “Detective Monroe.” He stood. “When a student of my caliber does something like that, they are careful not to be seen. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to clean up the remnants of my dinner.”

  Effectively dismissed.

  Ignoring the sharp looks from Weston, Cassidy approached Ball and held out her business card. “If you can think of anything that would help our investigation, please call. My personal cell number is on the card, along with the station. Thank you for your time.”

  He took the card, his fingers brushing hers. A chill slithered up her spine at the cold look in his eyes. This man did not like the police. “I will.” He dropped her card on the coffeetable, then opened the front door.

  “One more thing.” Colin stopped in the doorway. “Maureen Monroe’s attacker would not have wanted to be seen either, yet he was. Are you sure no one can back up your story? There’s also one thing that is bothering me…the college had no Russell Ball on their roster. Your name only appears on the clinic records. Why is that?”

  A muscle jerked in Ball’s undamaged cheek. “Another unfortunate mistake made twenty-five years ago by a second-rate college. Good day, officers. I’m sure if you dig a little harder, you’ll find your missing answers. But not here.”

  ~

  Well played, Detective MacKenzie. Draco closed the door behind them with a definitive click. He’d almost panicked to see Cassidy at his door, but held his wits rather well, he thought.

  Her gaze had landed on his scar without any trace of revulsion. Not so with the FBI agent. He’d seen her disgust and attempts to divert her gaze anywhere but at him. Perhaps the lovely agent would like to meet The Dragon in all his splendor.

  They acted as if Maureen was the victim. Not so! He caressed his scar. He was the one left disfigured, his life ruined.

  He opened his coat closet and ran his hands over the leather jacket with the embroidered dragon. All his followers would receive the same
jacket once they’d proven themselves. Unfortunately, it wasn’t happening as quickly as he’d like. Mary was very close, though.

  At first, her work had been sloppy. Her last kill had shown a patience and finesse that gave Draco pleasure. He’d taught her well. Perhaps it was time to reward her. He picked up the phone from the end table and punched in her number.

  He would wear his jacket when he killed the agent. Mary would wear hers on her next assignment. It was time for the world to become better acquainted with The Dragon and his minions.

  ~

  Colin grabbed Cassidy’s hand for a quick squeeze before she could pull away. “Don’t worry. We’ll catch the killer.”

  She slipped her hand free. “You keep saying that, and we keep coming up against dead ends.”

  “Faith, my dear.” He held the back door open for her.

  Rosie bounded out and lunged against the glass doors of the apartment complex.

  “Rosie!” Cassidy dashed after her. She grabbed the dog’s collar and glanced up.

  On the other side of the glass, fear etched across his face, was Russell Ball. Draped over his arm was a leather jacket. She got a glimpse of a multi-colored design, but couldn’t make out what it was.

  “I’m sorry!” Cassidy tossed him a wave and dragged the barking dog back to the SUV. “What has gotten into you?” She glanced back to see Ball scurry into a parking garage. She’d be lucky if he didn’t press charges over her brute of a dog.

  “What’s wrong?” Colin helped her get the struggling animal into the vehicle.

  “I don’t know. She’s never acted like this before.”

  He stared in the direction of the parking garage. “They say dogs are good judges of character.”

  “Not so much.” Cassidy climbed in and smiled. “She likes you, doesn’t she?”

  “Very funny.” He closed the door and got into the front passenger seat.

  “To the bar?” Weston asked.

  “Onward, chauffeur.” Colin clicked his seatbelt.

  Cassidy laughed at the woman’s uptight expression. She really needed to learn how to relax. If not, this case would kill them all.

  ~

  Colin stared out the window and watched the trees pass. The dog’s reaction to Ball stirred something in his gut. Could she be reacting to the man’s fear or something else entirely? Maybe he wasn’t her target. He tried to remember seeing someone else close by and drew a blank.

 

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