First Degree Murder

by Christy Barritt

  Ty hoped he did. But the realistic side of him knew this wouldn’t be an easy conversation.

  Cassidy pounded on the door to Dietrich’s place and waited. A car had been parked outside the house, so she assumed Dietrich was here. Yet, if he wasn’t, that could give her an excuse to visit Gilead’s Cove again.

  Dietrich answered a few minutes later, tugging his earbuds out and offering a smile.

  The man was probably Cassidy’s age—in his late twenties. He had dirty blond hair with spikes, blue eyes, and a slight but muscular build. In his athletic shorts and damp T-shirt, he looked like he’d just gotten back from jogging.

  “Chief Chambers.” Dietrich’s gaze flipped behind her to Ty, and he nodded a polite greeting before looking back at Cassidy. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  Cassidy’s stomach churned. This guy might want to appear charming and like the boy next door, but she knew better. He would do Gilead’s bidding, no matter the cost.

  “Have you seen Serena today?” Cassidy skipped the small talk.

  Dietrich hesitated before nodding slowly. “I have. Why? Is everything okay?”

  Cassidy’s hands went to her hips. “Where is she? We’re all worried about her.”

  “There’s nothing to be worried about. Serena is finally finding her place in this world. She’s been struggling with knowing who she really is for a long time, as you probably know, but—”

  “Where is she?” Cassidy interrupted.

  Dietrich’s smile faded, and he squared his shoulders. “She’s at Gilead’s Cove, of course.”

  “I want to talk to her.”

  “That’s up to Serena.”

  “This isn’t a game, Dietrich.” Cassidy could barely keep the anger out of her voice. “I need to talk to Serena. Now. Face-to-face.”

  He stepped closer. “Chief, Serena willingly decided to move to Gilead’s Cove. There’s nothing illegal going on here. She’s a grown woman who’s made her own choices. Even though those choices might be different from what you would have chosen, that doesn’t mean they’re wrong—”

  “Spare me the lecture,” Cassidy said. “I won’t believe she’s okay and that she did this on her own until I speak with her. Until then, I consider you a suspect in her abduction.”

  His gaze darkened. “There’s been no abducting here.”

  “Then you’ll need to prove that. Serena told no one what she was doing.”

  “Because she knew no one would approve. She felt like she had no choice but to do this in secret.”

  Cassidy fisted her hands as anger, and anxiety collided inside her. “I meant what I said, Dietrich. I need to speak with her. Do I need to take you down to the station? Because I can arrange that. Easily.”

  His eyes narrowed. “No, you don’t. Let me talk to her first.”

  “You have two hours. Otherwise, I’m getting a warrant. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  Just as Cassidy stepped away, her phone buzzed. It was Leggott. They’d found something else at the crime scene.

  It looked like she’d need to wait before telling Ty about that text she’d received this morning. She needed to tell him when they had a moment they could talk—really talk.

  In the meantime, Cassidy would continue to keep her eyes open for any signs of trouble.

  Chapter Six

  “What does fishing line have to do with this?” Back at the crime scene after dropping Ty off, Cassidy stared at Mac and Leggott as she waited for a reasonable explanation.

  The NCSBI crew worked in the woods. They’d laid down tarps, donned hazmat suits, and had begun to carefully work the bodies. The scene reminded Cassidy of an excavation site.

  The cold wind that swept over the island had brought with it a new gift—the smell of decaying eel grass that had been pushed ashore. The plant rotted in the sunlight, and the wind spread its scent all over the shore.

  Cassidy, Mac, Clemson, and Leggott had moved farther down the beach for some privacy. The crashing waves concealed their words as the lighthouse in the distance stood guard over their conversation.

  It wasn’t that the Lantern Beach PD was on the opposing side of the NCSBI. But a particularly tense case had recently pitted Cassidy against Agent Abbott, and now she felt certain she needed to maintain her distance until she figured out if the man was a friend or a foe.

  Mac MacArthur held up his phone, where he’d taken some photos. The man was in his late sixties, but he carried himself like someone much younger. He kept his white hair, mustache and goatee neat and trimmed. Likewise, his physique.

  “It’s not the fishing line,” Mac explained. “It’s the sinker at the end of the fishing line.”

  Cassidy stared at the metal piece in the photo. It had been shaped to look like an anchor. “What about the sinker is important?”

  She knew she was missing something—she just wasn’t sure what.

  “Isaac Warsaw makes these and sells them on the island,” Leggott explained. “He has for years. They’re his signature product. Not many sinkers look like anchors.”

  “Okay, but if Isaac sells these, anyone could have bought three,” Cassidy said. “It doesn’t necessarily point back to Isaac.”

  “The line was found wrapped around the victims’ necks,” Mac continued. “With the same sinker on the end of each.”

  She sucked in a quick breath. “Do you think that’s how these people died? Were they strangled with fishing line?”

  Everyone turned toward Clemson, who cringed. “It’s too early to say. I have trouble believing it, however. While it’s possible, I can’t see someone adding a sinker to each line only to strangle three different people.”

  “So you think maybe this was planted here as evidence?” Cassidy said.

  “I think it’s a good guess.”

  “It sounds like I need to go talk to Isaac.” Cassidy had never talked to the man, but she’d heard plenty of stories about him.

  He lived in an old shack near the water and spent most of his time fishing and gardening—so much so that he hardly ever had to interact with the regular world. In fact, the couple times Cassidy had seen Isaac in town, his dark hair had looked greasy and his clothes had smelled like he hadn’t changed them in a while.

  Cassidy supposed more could be going on in that secluded fishing cabin than anyone suspected. Being on the water, there was a lot of space for privacy, for illegal exchanges and transactions.

  “Let me see what I can find out,” Cassidy said.

  At least, it was something. It gave her some direction to search. She’d take that over nothing.

  Cassidy wandered back to Agent Abbott, who’d taken over the scene. It hadn’t been a surprise. The man seemed like a team player on the outside. But Cassidy had caught glimpses of the fact that he liked his power and control.

  Ever since their last case, she hadn’t cared for the man that much. Maybe it was because he’d stepped on her toes. Or maybe it was because he was difficult. It was hard to say.

  “How’s it going?” Cassidy’s voice took on a more professional tone, one that aimed to keep distance from Abbott and his power plays.

  The short, stout man with an oversized square face and balding head glanced up at her. He seemed to share her sentiments—that the two of them were best off if they kept each other at arm’s distance.

  “We’ll be here a while,” Abbott said. “After we document the scene, we’ll take the bones back to the crime lab in Raleigh and process them there. Hopefully, we can make some IDs and figure out what happened to these people.”

  “Until we know who they are, it’s going to be hard to make any kind of case.”

  “Exactly. We don’t know if this is a crime scene or if these people were peacefully—but illegally—buried here. We’ll scour missing persons reports, of course.”

  Cassidy studied his face, wondering if he’d discovered anything he hadn’t shared. “Anything I need to know?”

  “Not yet
.” His words held almost an icy edge to them, as if warning Cassidy not to overstep her boundaries. “You?”

  “I heard about the fishing line.”

  “Know anything about it?”

  “I might have a lead. You mind if I check it out? A local may have made those sinkers.”

  “Just let me know what you learn.” He paused. “Please.”

  “Of course. If I’m done here, I’ll leave your crew to continue working,” Cassidy said. “Leggott is going to remain here and keep the scene secure. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Will do.”

  Cassidy could feel Abbott’s gaze on her as she walked away.

  She was going to go talk to Isaac Warsaw and see what he knew. She hoped the answers might come easily, but she was smart enough to know that things were rarely ever easy.

  Since Ty was back at work—he’d told Cassidy he had to do some paperwork for Hope House—Cassidy took Dane with her to talk to Isaac. Dane was their newest officer here in Lantern Beach. He had proven, along with his dog, Ranger, to be an asset to the department.

  But Cassidy’s thoughts wandered back to her earlier realization that someone in her circle might be a snitch for Gilead’s Cove. Could it be Dane?

  Dane was from Cincinnati. What was that? A three-hour drive to West Virginia? Did he have roots there, maybe?

  Then again, Leggott had called in sick because of his asthma. What if that was a cover for something else?

  Cassidy shook her head. She didn’t want to think like this. Didn’t want to think that someone she trusted could be loyal to the other side.

  But she understood how it all worked. She’d gone undercover and infiltrated a deadly gang when she was a detective in Seattle. No one had a clue she was actually an undercover officer. Her purpose had been to blend in, to obtain information, and to report it.

  At the memory, she recalled the text message she’d gotten earlier. Had someone from her past found her here? Was this person watching her every move now? Had they shot at her earlier?

  She didn’t know, but she didn’t like any of this.

  She would need to remain cautious and guarded, for more than one reason.

  Cassidy pulled down a long, narrow road surrounded by trees and clumps of broken concrete. Isaac’s residence wasn’t terribly far from the lighthouse beach.

  Did that mean anything? Cassidy didn’t know. But she stored that fact in the back of her mind, just in case.

  A small house appeared at the end of the lane. Cedar shingles were missing from the sides, trash had collected in every crevice, and large items like tires, broken bicycles, and cracked chairs littered the rest of the space.

  A lone figure with a fishing pole sat on a rickety-looking pier behind the residence. Isaac Warsaw.

  Cassidy and Dane started toward him. The man didn’t turn or flinch. He just held his fishing pole and stared out at the water.

  Even when Cassidy stopped directly beside him, he didn’t look.

  “Mr. Warsaw,” she started.

  He remained staring straight ahead. “How can I help you, Chief?”

  She repressed a shudder, wondering how the man knew it was her without ever turning his head. She’d been watching him. “I have some questions I was hoping you could answer for me.”

  “I reckon I can give it a shot—long as it doesn’t stop the fish from biting.”

  She edged herself forward, trying to get a better look at his face. “Mr. Warsaw, you make fishing sinkers that look like this, correct?”

  She found the photo on her phone and shoved it in front of the man.

  He turned his eyes from the water for long enough to stare at her screen. “That’s correct.”

  “Where do you sell them?”

  “Only one place—the tackle shop in town. Moby Rick’s.”

  “No one ever buys them from you personally?”

  “No, ma’am. If you can’t tell, I’m not too good with people. Prefer just to fish.”

  “You don’t remember anyone who’s bought the sinkers from you then? Anyone who may have bought multiple ones?”

  “No, can’t say I do. Maybe Moby will know more. I’d talk to him. I don’t sell direct. Don’t like working with people.”

  Cassidy shoved her phone back in her pocket. She wasn’t getting very far here. But she’d known it would be too good to be true if she could find some answers this easily. “Thanks for your time.”

  As she started to walk away, Isaac called to her. Cassidy pivoted toward him.

  He’d actually looked away from the water and faced her. The lines of his face were illuminated by the sinking sun and made him look even older than he already did.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “I don’t know anything about those skeletons.”

  Her back tightened, and she glanced at Dane. He seemed to share her sentiments. Normal people didn’t say stuff like that—especially considering that Cassidy hadn’t mentioned anything about skeletons.

  She shifted. “Why would you say that, Isaac?”

  “I got the pictures.”

  “What pictures?”

  “The ones someone slipped beneath my door.”

  Cassidy shook her head, unsure if she was understanding this correctly. “What photos did someone slip beneath your door, Isaac?”

  “Photos of three skeletons with my sinkers around their necks.”

  Realization washed over her like a nuclear aftermath. “Isaac, when did you get these photos, and why didn’t you tell the police about them?”

  “They weren’t real skeletons. Just a joke.”

  “They were real, Isaac. You need to start talking.”

  “Someone sent me some pictures about a month ago. Slipped them under my door. I thought it was a prank. Some of those skeletons like the Doc used down at the clinic, only doctored up with some leftover Halloween makeup or something. Nothing real.”

  Cassidy’s jaw clenched. “You should have reported it, Isaac. “

  “I just want to be left alone. And I thought it was a joke.”

  “Do you still have the photos?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “As a matter of fact, I do. I don’t like throwing things away.”

  Cassidy sighed. “I need to see them. Now.”

  “Okay. As soon as I bring this one in.” As he said the words, something tugged on his line, and he began spinning his reel until an eight-inch fish popped out of the water.

  Only in Lantern Beach, Cassidy thought to herself. Only in Lantern Beach.

  Chapter Seven

  Still standing outside Isaac’s cottage, Cassidy stared at the glossy 4x6 photos. There were five pictures. Each showed the victims—the skeletons—with fishing line near their clavicle.

  Three of the photos highlighted three individual corpses, and the last two photos were views of all the victims together in the woods.

  Strangely enough, the bodies weren’t covered with sand. Did that mean they’d never been hidden in the sand? Had they not been buried at all?

  Cassidy squinted as she studied the photos. One of the images was taken from a different angle—from inside the woods. It showed not only the bodies, but also the water beyond it. In the background, she could see the ferry bringing people to and from the island.

  Those passengers probably had no clue what was going on over on the seemingly peaceful shores.

  “What do you think?” Dane asked, looking over her shoulder.

  “I don’t even know what to think about this.” Cassidy glanced at Isaac, trying to read his body language.

  He worked a knot out of one of his fishing lines as he stood there, but otherwise he looked placid—not guilty, not flustered, not even curious. Just imperturbable.

  “There was no note or anything else with this?” Cassidy continued. “Just photos?”

  Isaac nodded slowly, continuing to work out his line. “That’s right.”

  “And you have no idea who left them?” Cassidy continued.
/>   “No idea. I figured someone wanted to spook me.”

  Cassidy felt her impatience growing at his lack of focus on the conversation. She took a deep breath to temper her words. “Any idea who would want to do that or why?”

  “Nope. I leave people alone. Made no sense. Like I said earlier, I figured it was a joke.” He released his line, seemingly satisfied he’d gotten the knot out.

  “That’s a pretty extravagant joke.” Cassidy watched his expression again, trying to get a read on whether or not he actually believed his own words. He didn’t flinch or twitch—there was no sign he was trying to be deceitful.

  “I just want to leave people alone,” Isaac said. “I want to live my life and let other people live theirs.”

  Cassidy wasn’t going to get anything else from him. Not right now, at least. “We’re going to have to take these in for evidence, Isaac.”

  “Please do. I don’t want them photos anymore.”

  “And I’m going to have to ask you to stay in town,” Cassidy said.

  He glanced over at her, the first hint of amusement in his gaze. “Chief, I haven’t left this island in thirty years. I don’t plan on leaving now.”

  “Good to know. Take care, Isaac.”

  But Cassidy felt even more confused now than she had earlier. Why in the world would someone give Isaac these photos? What would they hope to prove?

  As soon as she got into her car, her phone buzzed. She put the phone to her ear, not recognizing the number.

  “Serena doesn’t want to talk to you,” someone said.

  Dietrich. Dietrich had called her, just as he said he would.

  “What do you mean she doesn’t want to talk to me?” Cassidy asked. “I need to hear that for myself. I told you that, Dietrich. Otherwise, I have no choice but to think you abducted her.”

  “That’s asinine,” he retorted, a sharp edge to his voice. “Of course, I didn’t abduct her.”

  “I need to hear that from Serena.”

  He said nothing for a moment then, “She’ll call you later.”