Scene of the Crime

by Carla Cassidy

  U R Next.

  The words screamed inside her head as she slid out of bed and approached the door. If she opened it, would she be met by somebody wielding a deadly sharp knife, ready to follow through on the threat? Was this potentially an attack like the one that had taken Sandy Peters’s life?

  She gripped her gun more firmly. She wasn’t Sandy Peters and nobody was going to take her by surprise. Drawing a deep breath to steady herself, she reached out, turned the lock and then jerked open the door.

  She was greeted only by a cold gust of wind that momentarily stole her breath away. No knife-wielding maniac, no quick attack.

  Nobody.

  She took a step outside onto the porch and looked around. Nothing. She wouldn’t see anyone in the area. The darkness of night would cover anyone’s presence.

  It was only when she turned to go back into the room that she noticed one of the rocking chairs in front of her window had been moved.

  It looked as if somebody had been trying to peer into her window and had accidentally bumped into the chair. Whoever it was, there was definitely no sign of the person now.

  She stepped back into the room and closed and locked her door. Her heart still raced as she climbed back into the bed and pointed her gun toward the door.

  “Come and get me, you creep,” she whispered.

  * * *

  THE NEXT FOUR days passed far too quickly. Jordon had told Gabriel about the Peeping Tom incident and again he’d tried to get her to move to another motel, but she was adamant that she was right where she wanted...where she needed to be.

  She’d been right. She was definitely stubborn and he’d tried a dozen ways to change her mind, but she wasn’t budging. The fact that she’d been warned that she was the next victim and she continued staying at Diamond Cove had given him several nightmares over the last couple of nights.

  They had interviewed all the men who had been at Hillbilly Harry’s on the night of Sandy’s murder, they’d pored over the files in an effort to find something they might have missed, and by late Sunday afternoon, Gabriel had all kinds of anxiety burning in the pit of his stomach. He figured by the time these cases were solved he’d have ulcers as big as the Ozark foothills.

  The Rollings brothers remained high on the suspect list, along with Billy Bond, who as groundskeeper had easy access to all the victims and might have known their routines, but no new evidence had been revealed to make an arrest.

  Unfortunately, the note that had been left for Jordon had yielded nothing...no fingerprints and no distinctive features. The paper was ordinary copy paper that could be bought almost anywhere in town and beyond.

  Because it had been written like somebody would write a text, they had questioned everyone again about texting, including Jason and Hannah Overton, who might have thought leaving such a note would be funny.

  The two teenagers had proclaimed their innocence passionately and Gabriel had been surprised to learn that almost everyone these days texted in abbreviated language. It had made him feel like an ancient old man.

  He now closed the file that held the crime-scene photos and looked across the conference table where Jordon had been reading through the interviews they’d conducted over the last several days.

  “Why don’t we knock off early, and instead of grabbing a burger out somewhere, I’ll take you to my place and fix us a home-cooked meal,” he said.

  “That sounds absolutely marvelous,” she replied. Her eyes were a warm green as she rose from the table and reached for her coat. “A little break will be nice. I’ve been thinking about murder for the past week.”

  “Then let’s make a pact that for the next couple of hours we won’t talk about work at all.”

  “That’s a deal,” she instantly agreed.

  Within fifteen minutes they were in Gabriel’s car and headed to his house. Although he’d certainly had his head immersed in these cases for the last seven days, he’d also had far too many inappropriate thoughts about his “partner.”

  Her scent invaded his senses when he was sleeping; the visions of her clad only in bubbles in the oversize tub haunted his dreams. He could easily imagine her in bed and clad only in the hot-pink oversize T-shirt she’d bought.

  He had no idea if taking her to his house for a meal was a good idea or not, but he did know they both needed a break from the mind-numbing routine of the investigation and the endless fast food they’d eaten over the past week.

  “It doesn’t look like you’re going to make that beach in Florida unless we get a break pretty fast,” he said.

  “I already canceled my reservations. I also heard on the weather last night that we’re supposed to get a big snowstorm here starting tomorrow night.” She leaned forward and adjusted the heater vents as if just thinking about the upcoming snow made her cold.

  “I’m sorry about your vacation plans.”

  She leaned back in the seat again. “The beach will still be there after we catch this creep. What’s for dinner?”

  “How does spaghetti with meat sauce sound?”

  “Fantastic. Do you like to cook?”

  “I do. I find it a good stress reliever.” He shot her a quick glance. “What do you do to relieve stress?”

  “I’ve always thought primal screaming sounded like a great idea but it’s hard to find an empty forest when you need one,” she said jokingly. “Actually, stress rolls off my back pretty easily.”

  “I’ve noticed that about you.” He’d definitely noticed that she used humor to ease tension and alleviate any stress that might be in the air. He wondered what might lurk beneath her humor. What depths of emotions, if any, did she mask with laughter?

  And then he wondered why he cared. She was here only temporarily. Despite his visceral attraction to her, there was no way he intended to pursue anything remotely romantic with her.

  “Nice place,” she said as he pulled up in front of the three-bedroom house he called home. It was a neat place painted a dark brown and flanked by two tall, beautiful evergreen trees.

  Still, the Christmas tree lights remained hung and an inflatable Santa had lost his wave as the air had seeped out. He’d had more important things on his mind than taking down Christmas decorations.

  “Santa looks pretty sad,” she said as they walked up to the front door.

  “Yeah, it was a pretty grim Christmas,” he replied.

  “Have you been here long?” she asked.

  “It’s a rental but I’ve been here for the last three years, ever since I moved here from Chicago.” He unlocked the front door and ushered her inside.

  They entered into the large living room with the open kitchen to the right. “Make yourself at home,” he said as he hung his coat in the closet and then did the same with hers.

  She walked around the room, her eyes narrowed as they had been when she’d looked at the crime scenes. He looked around the space in an effort to see it through her eyes.

  The overstuffed gray sofa was comfortable for sitting and watching the flat-screen television on the opposite wall. The black coffee table held only a small fake flower arrangement that a woman he’d briefly dated had given him. Lamps were on each of the end tables.

  She looked at him and smiled. “Your living space is exactly what I expected it to be.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  “It’s neat and uncomplicated. A place for everything and everything in its place.” She released a short laugh. “You’d go stark raving mad if we lived together.”

  “You’re messy?”

  “I like to call it controlled chaos,” she replied.

  “Interesting,” he said. “How about you bring your controlled chaos into the kitchen so I can start working on the meal.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

&nbs
p; Fifteen minutes later he had a pot of seasoned tomato sauce simmering on one burner and stirred a skillet of frying hamburger, garlic and onions on another.

  Jordon sat at the table with a beer and filled what was normally the silent hours he’d grown accustomed to with cheerful chatter that he welcomed.

  She was so bright and witty and he was vaguely surprised to realize how much he enjoyed her company. Within thirty minutes he learned that she loved old rock and roll, Chinese food and her neighbor’s Yorkie named Taz. She loved to dance in her underwear in her living room and preferred white cheddar to yellow.

  As they ate the salad, garlic bread and spaghetti, they argued politics and discovered they watched the same television shows and had read many of the same books.

  She asked him about his time working in Chicago and he related many of the cases he’d worked on there. She helped clean up the dishes and they settled side by side on the sofa for coffee.

  “I needed this,” she said as she eased back against the gray cushion.

  “The coffee?”

  “No, silly man. I needed this break away from thinking about serial killers and the potential demise of Diamond Cove.”

  He smiled at her. “Nobody has ever had the nerve to call me a silly man before.”

  She gave him a brash grin. “I call ’em like I see them, cupcake.”

  He laughed. “I needed this, too. Maybe after this little break we’ll approach everything with fresh eyes tomorrow.”

  “What we need is fresh evidence, and until this creep makes another move, we’re in a holding pattern.” A frown danced across her forehead as she lifted her coffee cup to her lips.

  “And we’re doing exactly what we said we wouldn’t do by talking about the case.”

  She took another sip of the coffee and nodded her head. “You’re right. So, tell me, Gabriel Walters, what is your deepest fear?”

  She constantly surprised him. A long look at her features let him know the question was serious. He feared being alone for the rest of his life. He feared that he would never have the family he desperately wanted, but those were things he didn’t share with anyone.

  “I’d say my biggest fear right now is that we won’t catch this guy and somebody else will wind up dead.” He couldn’t tell her that he worried that particular somebody would be her. “What about you? What’s your deepest fear?”

  “Big hairy spiders, especially the jumping kind,” she replied flippantly.

  He gazed at her for a long moment. “Are you ever serious?”

  “I’m serious about getting bad guys off the streets,” she replied with a slight upward thrust of her chin.

  God, she looked so beautiful with that spark of defiance in her eyes. She intrigued him like no other woman had ever done before.

  Despite their long hours of working together over the last week, in spite of all the conversations they’d shared, he felt like he’d just scratched the surface of her. He shouldn’t want to go any deeper. A superficial relationship was all he needed for them to work well together.

  However, right at this moment with her scent wafting in the air and her eyes the soft green of a beautiful spring day, he wanted more. “Tell me why you’re afraid of mirrors,” he said.

  Her eyes instantly darkened and her chin shot up once again. “What makes you think I’m afraid of mirrors?”

  He held her gaze intently. A faint color danced into her cheeks. She set her coffee cup on the table in front of them and wrapped her arms around herself. She shifted her gaze to someplace in the distance just behind him and released a shuddery sigh.

  “His name was Ralph Hicks.” Her voice was soft and her eyes remained shadowed. “He had already tortured and killed five women before I knocked on his door to interview him. I was officially off duty for the day, but I decided to go ahead and get the interview done on my way home from work.” She shook her head and her face paled. “I should have gone straight home and danced in my underwear.”

  He fought the impulse to move closer to her. She looked small and achingly vulnerable as she pressed herself farther into the corner of the sofa.

  She drew in a deep breath and continued. “He was so pleasant and unassuming-looking. He invited me inside and nothing rang a bell of alarm in my head. I stepped in and he bashed me over the head with a small bat. I never saw it coming.”

  She unwound her arms and leaned forward to grab her coffee cup, but before she did, he reached out and took her hand in his. Icy cold and so achingly small. She wound her fingers with his and he slid closer to her. Her face had paled to an unnatural white and her lower lip trembled for just a moment.

  “I’m sorry I asked,” he said regretfully.

  “It’s okay.” She gave him a small smile that did nothing to light up her eyes. “Thankfully, after he hit me, the last thing I did before I passed out was slide my cell phone under his sofa. When I regained consciousness I was in my underwear and strung up with chains and there were three floor-length mirrors in front of me. Ralph liked his victims to watch themselves as he tortured them.”

  Gabriel tightened his hand around hers, his stomach churning with sickness as he could only imagine the horrors she had endured. He wanted to rescue her from her past, from that horror, something that he knew wasn’t possible.

  “I was lucky. By the time he had me trussed up, he decided it was his bedtime. I didn’t see him again until midmorning the next day. By the time he came down the stairs to have his fun with me, my fellow agents already knew I was in trouble because I hadn’t shown up for work and I never, ever missed work.”

  “They traced your phone,” he said.

  She nodded. “They came in hard and fast, but not before Ralph had played on my hip with a lit cigarette.” She released his hand and leaned back once again. “The good news is Ralph got a bullet in his chest and I walked out of there with just a heart-shaped scar.”

  “And an aversion to mirrors,” he added.

  “Only if there’s more than one,” she replied as her face regained most of its color. “And now I think it’s time you get me back to Diamond Cove.”

  He wanted to protest. He wanted more time with her, but her eyes remained hollow and he realized that sharing her story had taken an emotional toll on her.

  Twenty minutes later they were back at the bed-and-breakfast and Gabriel got out of the car as she did. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I just thought I’d walk you to your door,” he replied. She’d been quiet on the way back and he’d cursed himself for digging deep enough to dredge up what must have been horrendous memories for her. If he had any questions about whether there was something behind her humor and laughter, he now had the answer.

  “That isn’t necessary,” she protested.

  “I know, but it’s something I feel like doing. Besides, if the weather forecast is right, by Tuesday morning I might not be able to make it here at all.” He walked behind her on the small path.

  “Ugh, don’t remind me. More snow, more winter—it makes me want to throw up,” she replied.

  They reached her door and she turned to face him. Her features were softly lit by the nearby solar lamps. “Thank you for the meal and the conversation.”

  “I’m sorry some of the conversation was difficult for you.”

  She smiled up at him. “It’s something that happened to me, but it’s in the past and I survived.” Her gaze softened. “When I first arrived here I was sure you were going to be an inflexible, boneheaded pain in my butt, but I was wrong about you. Thank you for putting up with me, Gabriel.”

  He watched her lips moving, and before he realized his intent, he covered her mouth with his. The evening air was cold, but her lips were wonderfully hot and inviting.

  She opened her mouth to him, welcoming him as his tongue deepened the k
iss. White-hot desire seared through him. All rational thought momentarily left him, and it wasn’t until she raised a hand to gently touch his cheek that rational thought slammed back into his head.

  He broke the kiss and stepped back from her, appalled by what he’d just done. It had been a total lack of control. “I’m sorry. That was completely unprofessional and wrong.”

  “It sure didn’t feel wrong,” she replied, her cheeks flushed with a becoming pink.

  He took another step backward. “Still, it won’t happen again.”

  “Don’t bet on it.” She dug her key out of her purse and then smiled at him. “Good night, Gabriel. I’ll see you in the morning.” She opened her door and disappeared inside.

  He stared at her closed door for a long moment as he waited for the desire inside him to ebb. Finally, with the frigid night air seeping into his bones, he turned and hurried to his car.

  Jordon James was like no other woman he had ever dated. She’s a partner, not a date, he reminded himself firmly as he started his engine and pulled out of the Diamond Cove parking lot.

  They needed to get this case solved sooner rather than later. They needed to find the murderer so Jordon could get back to Kansas City before he really did something boneheaded.

  Chapter Six

  The snow began to fall at six o’clock the next evening. Jordon sat at the conference room table and stared out the window at the fat, fluffy flakes drifting down from the heavy gray skies.

  She was alone in the room. Gabriel had left almost twenty minutes ago to deal with an armed robbery that had taken place at one of the convenience stores.

  She’d been distracted all day...distracted by a single kiss. It surprised her how much she’d liked that darned kiss, how much she wanted to repeat it...and more.

  Neither of them had mentioned it throughout the day and she had a feeling Gabriel definitely wished it had never happened. But it had and she’d thought about it far too often as the long hours had gone by.