Sinner Realized

by Morgan Kelley

  “I would have been a marine biologist. I love the water and apparently fish too,” he said, pointing at his plate.

  She was charmed. “For the record, last night was… wow.”

  It caught him off guard, and somehow, he thought that was the point. Maura, while good at strategy, was underestimating her opponent. It was time to make one more move in this relationship game.

  Leaning over, he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “When this is all over, we’re going to have many more wows. I promise.”

  Yeah, he caught her off balance.

  “Lucas,” she began, but was cut off.

  “Stop, Maura. I made love to you three times last night. Let me have my moment. I’m getting old and that’s a tale I want to tell the grandkids one day.”

  Her heart skipped in her chest.

  “Okay,” she said, grinning. When he winked at her, Maura could feel the flush fill her. She didn't have the heart to tell him that their time was limited.

  She was living in the moment.

  Just once.

  He saw the look and begged to differ. Lucas Mars was definitely marrying her. This was the woman he wanted forever. Lucas knew the truth.

  He was madly in love.

  “We should check in. Maybe your brother and team got a break.”

  “Good idea,” she replied, going to the counter to get the phone. When she tossed it to him, he dialed the voicemail. As he listened to the three messages, he watched her.

  She saw the moment his demeanor changed.

  Luke’s body actually tensed in anticipation. There was a ripple just below his skin, and she took it as a bad sign.

  Maura waited until he hung up. “What happened?”

  “The killer struck again, honey. I’m so sorry.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Who was it, Lucas? Who died?”

  He told her all about it. “There was a fire. When they put it out, they believe they found Brick Brighton’s body in the structure.”

  It made her sick to her stomach.

  “They have the FBI medical examiner checking the remains to see if it’s indeed him.”

  She started toward the bedroom.

  Luke followed. “Where are you going?” he asked, as she began digging through her pack.

  “I have to go back.”

  Yeah, there was no way in hell that was happening. Luke couldn’t let her leave.

  “My men are dropping like flies. They need me. I have to go and face this. I’m a Marine. We leave no man behind, and I’m sitting in a cabin, hiding like a coward.”

  He stopped her. “Maura, that’s his plan. Whoever is doing this knows you’ll come back. If you do, you’re playing right into his game. I can’t let you go, honey. I’m sorry. For now, we stay put and bide our time. We’ll know when we need to move out. I promise you.”

  Maura wasn’t one to break down.

  Generally, she was calm and steady, but today, she didn't feel strong at all. When he sat on the bed, she went into his arms to rest against his body.

  While she wept for one of her team, Luke just held on. He would keep her safe until the very end.

  He made a vow.

  He wouldn’t leave her behind.

  Never.

  Chapter Ten

  Wednesday Afternoon

  T o say that the ME in the small town of Union Gap was displeased when the FBI stepped in to take his victim, would be an understatement. He was royally pissed and not afraid to show it.

  While they were trying to play nice, there was no way around the half-done autopsies. Someone had to talk to the man and deal with his shit.

  They went with Callie, only because she was a doctor and he might not be as miserable with her. As the men headed out to the crime scene, she got down to business.

  “I don’t like this at all,” Doctor Lavelle stated, crossing his arms. “The FBI has no right to come in here and turn the entire place upside down.”

  She disagreed. “We’re handling a murder investigation, so we do have a right. You’ll have to just deal with it, Doctor.”

  “I’m a very busy man. I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

  “Then how about we get this done, and I can get out of your hair?” she offered.

  “Fine.”

  Pulling out her folder, Callie planned on discussing each of the previously autopsied victims. In order to get more details, they needed to get into the mind of the man.

  “I’d like to discuss our first victim, Private Marcus Westerly. We got the autopsy report from his supervisor, and it appears to be missing some pertinent information. I was hoping that you could fill in some of the blanks for me.”

  “Like?” he asked.

  Yeah, he was still angry.

  “Can you tell me if you did bloodwork? The report we got shows nothing in the file.”

  He practically snarled at her, “Of course I did! I may be older than you, but I’m not losing my mind.” He glared at the neatly dressed woman. How dare she come into his lab and treat him like this?

  “Okay, do you still have a copy?” she asked, hopefully.

  “Of course I do!” Getting up, he crossed to a cabinet and pulled out the file.

  “You might as well grab the rest,” Callie stated, trying to cut down on some time. The older man wasn’t exactly moving at lightning speed.

  The men owed her for this one.

  Rattling off the names, he begrudgingly dug them out. When he returned to his seat, he wouldn’t even look at her. “See! I did do his bloodwork. It came back that he was almost three times the legal limit in this state. He was drunker than a skunk,” he stated, handing her the paper.

  “Did this get forwarded to the military base?”

  “Yes, that’s procedure.”

  That was curious. Maybe the man wasn’t incompetent, but instead there was someone who played with the files. They’d have to check on that.

  “What else can you tell me about him?”

  “I can tell you that he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. There was absolutely no bruising on his ribs or breastbone. When he hit that tree, his face stopped him. As you can imagine, it was a pretty horrific accident.”

  “Yes, I bet it was. I’m going to need any photographs that your staff took of the scene. There were none in his file on the base.”

  The man sputtered at the incompetence and total waste of his time. “Fine.”

  “What about Gunnery Sergeant Bruce Mclead?” she began. While he flipped through the papers, she sent her husband a text. The men were taking the next shitty assignment.

  This man was a miserable jackass.

  “This was an easy one. We opened him up and found nothing, except a gunshot wound to the back of his skull. There was nothing on the toxicology reports—no sign of struggle or any sign of a fight either. This man was killed and that’s all that I had to report to the military.”

  That matched the report they had exactly.

  Well, score one for their team.

  “Next is Captain Christian Bleu. His report was missing a few things too,” Callie offered. “You know how the military is,” she added, hoping to get the man to calm down. If she could get Doctor Lavelle to trust her, this might be a little easier.

  “He was found on the ground. The cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head. When he fell, his skull took the impact.”

  “Are there pictures?” Callie asked, peeking over at the file.

  “Yes, here,” he offered, shoving them at her.

  As she studied them, a few things stood out. Callie’s husband had been right. The wounds to the front of his arms definitely looked defensive to her. They were bruised and tore up pretty bad. “What about these?” she asked, pointing at them.

  “He obviously scraped them as he fell.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  Doctor Lavelle stared at her. “Oh, is that so. What you’re telling me is an ME, with thirty years’ experience, has no idea what he’s tal
king about?”

  She went with Quinn’s theory, trusting her husband. “Was he still in his rigging?”

  “Yes. There are pictures in there.”

  Callie flipped through them. “You found him on his back?” Now that made no sense whatsoever. “How did he bash his face off the ground if he landed on his back?”

  “He had other wounds that signified that’s how he died. The impact of hitting the ground turned his insides to jelly.”

  “And the extensive facial damage?”

  “It’s possible he hit his face off the rock wall.”

  Callie wouldn’t buy it, especially if that was how he landed. “If the man’s rigging failed, he would have fallen straight back. Did he have any leg breaks to indicate that his feet hit the ground first?”

  “What the hell do you do in the FBI?” he asked, angrily.

  “I’m a doctor.”

  “Of what?” he asked.

  Callie knew what was coming. It was the same thing she’d heard many times in her career. “I’m a profiler and psychiatrist.”

  “So, you’re not a real doctor?” he scoffed.

  “I guess not. I fall into the category of people who don’t actually save lives. I guess like you, Doctor. ME’s aren’t real medical professionals either, huh?”

  It shut him up.

  Maybe this pregnancy was going to make her bitchy. Either way, she didn't mind.

  “As I was saying, he was found a decent distance from the base of the rocks. If his gear gave, he would have fallen straight down, then you could account for his arms and face hitting the rocks. Since he landed on his back, eight feet from the base, it’s likely he was pushed or was hit so hard in the face that he fell backward.”

  He stared at her, saying nothing.

  Yeah, score one for the shrink and her really smart husband.

  “Where’s all his gear?”

  “We returned it with his remains. It all went to the base. What they did with it was up to them.”

  She’d have to follow up on that too when they got back there. “How about Sergeant Thomas Archer?”

  “Oh, well he was the easiest of them all. We did his tox screen to check for drugs or antidepressants and sent him on his merry way.”

  Funny, the tox report was missing from their paperwork, but she didn't know why. There was no sign of drugs or alcohol. This was beyond perplexing.

  “You didn't do an autopsy?” she asked.

  “No. His fiancée was adamant that he not be cut into. She insisted that his religious beliefs prohibited it. So, we had her fill out the paperwork, did an exam to his body, and that’s it. We couldn’t cut into him.”

  “He had petechial hemorrhaging in his eyes.”

  “Yes, thus the COD of asphyxiation. The man simply committed suicide and my report states that.”

  “I see a lot of photos in your file. We only got a few with the official report.”

  “We didn't send them all. That’s a lot of wasted space. This was an open and shut case,” he insisted.

  Callie wasn’t buying it at all. Once she flipped through the pictures, she wished they could have the body exhumed. “Look around the back of his neck. He has post mortem bruising. It looks like fingerprints in his skin.”

  The man pulled out his glasses and put them on his face. When he saw them, he studied them. “I see what you’re saying, but I’ll stick to my initial observations.”

  Callie knew that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with the man, so there wasn’t any point in trying.

  “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your help with all this.” With that, she took the files.

  “Wait! I need those back!” he called after her.

  Only, Callie didn't hear him. Already, she was beginning to build a profile in her head. At the top of her list, she wanted to find out who handled the files.

  Oh, and why it was so convenient for the fiancée to decline an autopsy on a Marine who worked secret ops, after three others had turned up dead.

  Callie needed the personnel files, and fast.

  * * * C a r t e r C h r o n i c l e s * * *

  Captain Brick Brighton’s Home

  One of the things they both noticed as they pulled up to the crime scene was that it wasn’t on the main road. The Marine had liked a little privacy when it came to his sanctuary.

  Not that they could blame him. Who wanted neighbors right on top of you? Only, in this case, it may have worked against him. From the looks of the house, it was a bad fire.

  Obviously, the fire trucks didn't get there early.

  As Nate and Quinn hopped out of the vehicle, they paused to take it all in. There were fire marshals, a few cops, some military personnel, and a detective or two.

  Yeah, this was going to be a power tug of war.

  Nate was accustomed to it, but Quinn was going to have to see what he had to live through as an outsider looking in.

  “I think I should handle this,” Quinton offered.

  Immediately, Nate glanced over. “You want to deal with this?” Something was seriously wrong with his brother-in-law if he was signing up for this mess.

  “You’re a Fed and are the most hated man here.”

  “Gee, you’re so sweet. I can see why my sister married you. The words are like honey from your lips.”

  Quinn grinned at the sarcasm. Offering his brother-in-law a fist bump, he already had his plan worked out. “Let’s head to the first detective.”

  Nate let him have at it.

  As they approached the man, they were already getting a look. It didn't seem to be promising.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, taking in the man in the suit and the one in jeans. “Are you two lost?”

  Quinn pulled his badge to show the man. “I’m homicide Detective Quinton Gaines.”

  “You’re a little out of your jurisdiction, Detective. Damascus is three hours north of here. Why don’t you hustle out of here and find your way home?” he suggested.

  Nate stepped in, flashing his.

  The man took the time to read his name.

  “Well shit. This is the last thing I need today. The Feds are here to make my life hell. My day just went downhill fast,” the man admitted. “I’m Detective Hollister. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Quinn continued, “We’re taking over this crime scene. The man who died here is part of an ongoing investigation.”

  He wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, was there more than the one body that I’m aware of? Generally, the FBI only steps in when there’s multiples, or a damn good reason.”

  “He’s the fifth victim.”

  “Who were the others?” he asked, curiously.

  When he pulled out his notepad, both men gave each other a look. There was no way they wanted more people with their fingers in the pie.

  “We can’t say.”

  He pushed on. “Oh, you can say, and besides, the military is all over this. You’re not going to get anywhere.”

  Nate whistled, catching a Marine’s attention. He knew that the colonel had sent a few of his men to stand guard. He didn't want anyone doing anything that would hurt the investigation.

  “Yes, sir?” he asked, standing there in his camo and MP armband.

  “What can you give us, Private Lewis?” Quinn asked, reading the man’s name from his uniform.

  “I can tell you that the body was picked up and taken back to FBI West, sir. We sent a Marine along with them to make sure there was no situation. The colonel wants us to assist you in any way, sir.”

  “Thank you, Private.”

  “Find the man who did this, sir,” he said, before walking away.

  Quinn faced the detective. “Well, that obstacle was overcome pretty fast. I wonder what’s next. So, want to share anything?”

  He sighed. “Fine. There isn't that much to give you. You have one victim, located in the back of the house in what appears to be a shower. He was one hell of a crispy critter too.”

  Nate gave him a lo
ok. “Have some respect. That man served his country.”

  The detective rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, Director. Anyway,” he began again, “when the fire trucks were finally alerted, they couldn’t get close to the house. It seems the signal to the distant neighbors was the continual popping sound. That man had quite a few rounds in his house, and the firemen wouldn’t approach.”

  “Okay,” stated Quinn, making notes.

  “There might have been a little more of him had they been able to get close. You’re going to have one hell of a time identifying that man.”

  “We know who he is,” Nate stated.

  “Gee, now if only that power would have kicked in a few hours before this happened. You might have saved him.”

  They ignored his sarcasm. It wasn’t like they were shocked by it. In fact, Nate was accustomed to the hostility. It went along with the badge.

  “Are these the neighbors?” he asked, pointing at the small crowd. Quinn wouldn’t be surprised. Death always brought out gawkers.

  “Yeah, they live around here. Like I said, they heard the popping and called it in.”

  “Anything else?” Nate asked.

  “We canvassed and no one saw anyone coming in or out. So, if this was indeed a killer, he likely slipped in through the trees. There’s only one way to this man’s house. To get here you have to pass four other houses, a VFW, and a motorcycle shop.”

  They thanked the detective and sent him on his way. They didn't learn anything from him that they couldn’t pull from a police report.

  “Well?” Nate asked, taking in the crowd as they videotaped the scene with their phones.

  “This killer is tricky.”

  Nate had to agree. “Yeah, and a pain in the ass. There are only two men left, excluding Maura.”

  “Maybe we need to put them in protective custody,” Quinn offered.

  “They’re Marines. You have a better chance of shoving a two-ton boulder through a mouse hole. Visualize the outcome if you ordered your sister around.”

  He thought about Maura. If he got too bossy, there’d be hell to pay. For now, Quinn had to trust that Luke had her back. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”