First Degree Murder

by Christy Barritt

  Her spine tightened. “How would you have heard that?”

  Gilead’s satisfied smile said it all. “I’m very observant, Chief. What can I say?”

  He did have a spy, didn’t he? Someone in her circle.

  But who? Who could it possibly be?

  Cassidy didn’t know. But she wouldn’t have a moment of peace until she did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cassidy stepped closer to the man who was quickly becoming her nemesis, anger burning through her veins. “I don’t know what your end game is here, Gilead—or should I say Gerrard Becker? But I will figure it out. I’ll stop it.”

  His smile slipped. “You discovered my other name.”

  Now it was Cassidy’s turn to feel the strangely comforting surge of satisfaction. “I did. And I can’t wait to discover more about you.”

  “I think you should stay out of my past, Chief.” Gilead’s voice darkened, though his demeanor remained cheery—clearly a façade for anyone watching.

  “Why is that?”

  “People shouldn’t go poking around into other people’s pasts. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Was Gilead hinting that he knew about Cassidy’s past? Was he the one who’d sent her that text? Without admitting too much, Cassidy couldn’t ask him.

  And that was probably just what the man wanted—to feel that flash of satisfaction in knowing Cassidy couldn’t even confront him about it.

  “I’d love to stay and chat longer, but I must go.” Gilead turned to his two cronies on either side of him. “I’ve got a campaign to plan.”

  Cassidy edged herself in front of him, not yet done with this conversation. “If you do one thing to hurt Serena Lavinia, I will find you and personally see to it that you pay.”

  Gilead tilted his head, almost looking as if he enjoyed her words. “Is that a threat?”

  “I mean it, Gilead,” Cassidy continued. “You better not lay a finger on her.”

  “We’re a peaceful group, Chief. How many times do I have to say that? Just because Barnabas made some poor choices, that doesn’t mean we’re all like that.”

  Barnabas had been a member of Gilead’s Cove and was one of the first people from the compound Cassidy had met. The man—his real name was Gary Largo—had encouraged another man to commit suicide.

  Barnabas later took his own life in a fire to avoid the consequences of what he’d done. Or maybe he’d laid down his life in order to avoid giving up information on the group that he’d transformed his life for.

  Cassidy would never know.

  “If you were peaceful, you wouldn’t keep your people trapped behind those gates.” Cassidy stared at Gilead, waiting for his rebuke.

  He glanced around, as if making sure no one else had heard her, and then he chuckled, deflecting her statement and making Cassidy seem like the off-balanced one. “People can come and go as they please, Cassidy. No one is chained to the community. We just believe it’s a safe place. Some people are meant for safe places, while others are meant to go and sow seeds outside.”

  “Your scouts, you mean?”

  Surprise flashed in Gilead’s gaze before quickly disappearing. “Yes, my scouts. We have the truth, Cassidy. Of course, we want to share it and see our numbers grow. You probably believe the same about your faith.”

  “Your faith and mine are nothing alike.”

  He leaned closer. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  With that, he walked away.

  Cassidy fisted her hands at her sides, wishing more than anything she could drive that man off this island.

  “He actually said that?” Ty repeated. “Gilead told you to stay out of his past?”

  Cassidy nodded as she grabbed another french fry and dipped it into some special sauce Lisa had put together. “That’s right.”

  Lisa had invited everyone over for lunch. The gang tried to get together at least once a week. After helping Lisa transform the Crazy Chefette restaurant into a reception hall, everyone had been famished.

  “That means Anthony Gilead is hiding something.” Mac sat back in the booth and nodded confidently.

  Cassidy grabbed another fry. They were especially crisp today and offered just the comfort Cassidy sought—unfortunately. “I agree. And he’s a master at it. This man knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s a born manipulator.”

  “Did he say anything about Serena?” Skye asked, her gaze still fraught with worry. She hadn’t even touched her food, but her straw had been twisted until it was unrecognizable.

  “I asked him, and he only said what Dietrich had already said.” Cassidy wished she had better news. “That Serena came by her own free will and that she can leave of her own free will.”

  As Skye frowned, Austin put his arm around her. “I just wish I could talk to her. That I could see her face-to-face.”

  “I’m still working on it,” Cassidy promised.

  Skye’s apologetic gaze met Cassidy’s. “I know you are, Cassidy. I don’t mean to put so much pressure on you. I just can’t stop thinking about her, though.”

  Cassidy reached across the table and squeezed her friend’s hand. “If Serena was my niece, I’d be worried too. Don’t apologize.”

  A moment of silence fell, and everyone munched on their savory crab and jalapeno soup, grilled gouda sandwiches, and fries. Cassidy glanced around at the people she was closest to here on the island. Lisa and Braden, Skye and Austin, Wes, Mac . . .

  What if it was someone in her circle of friends who was betraying her?

  She mentally shook her head. No, no one here would do that.

  Then again, who would?

  Cassidy didn’t want to face the fact that it could be someone she trusted. But the evidence was pointing more and more in that direction.

  Wes finally cleared his throat, breaking up the quiet that captured the group.

  “So what are you going to do to step up your political game, Mac?” Wes turned to the former police chief.

  Mac shrugged and pushed away his empty plate. “Nothing. I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing. People around here know me and trust me.”

  “It’s more important now than ever that you win, though.” Lisa paused by the table, her white apron splattered with the creative juices from one of her newest creations. “We can’t let Gilead be elected.”

  “And no one wants Tomlinson to stay in office,” Austin said. “He’s a joke. He’s done nothing to earn the position. He just happens to be from the right family.”

  “Not to mention he’s a jerk,” Ty added.

  “If I were a drinking man, I’d offer a toast for that one.” Wes frowned and rolled his eyes.

  “We could have a party for you here at my place, Mac,” Lisa said. “You know, a meet and greet.”

  “I think you have enough planning on your hands.” Mac tilted his head and cast her a fatherly look. “You’re getting married in two days.”

  “I know, but everything is planned and ready. I just have to be there at this point.”

  Lisa was the calmest bride Cassidy had ever seen.

  “It’s one of the perks of not having a big, fancy wedding,” Lisa continued. “There’s less stress and more time to enjoy the journey.”

  “I really don’t want to put you out,” Mac continued.

  “You’re not,” Lisa told him. “It will be nice to have something to make the time pass more quickly until my big day. How about tomorrow afternoon?”

  Mac lowered his glass of water. “Are you sure you can throw something together that soon?”

  “I’m sure,” Lisa said. “It will be fun.”

  “I’ll help her.” Skye’s gaze perked for a moment. “I need to keep my mind occupied.”

  “We can all pitch in,” Austin added. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  “And for entertainment, Clemson can bring his educational skeleton in and dance with it,” Wes added. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one who’s seen him doing that?”

  A smile
tugged at Cassidy’s lips. She loved these people. She really did.

  But how could she possibly keep them all safe?

  She had no idea.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After lunch, Cassidy went back to work. Lisa had sent her away with some salt and vinegar potato chip cookies—another one of her specialties. Though Cassidy had balked initially at the idea, the treats had become one of her favorites, and she knew she’d be nibbling on them for the rest of the day.

  As soon as she was behind her desk, Cassidy picked up her phone to call Kaleb Walker’s number. She knew it was a long shot, but she decided to reach out to him anyway.

  Kaleb was an attorney as well as a member of Gilead’s Cove who lived out here in the community. Cassidy had helped him find his sister, Lela, just over a week ago. But, after that, the man had disappeared back into the mysterious folds of the cult. Was he too afraid to leave? Or did he really love it so much that he’d give up everything and everyone to stay?

  Cassidy had no idea.

  But after helping him out earlier, Cassidy had planned on calling in a favor from him. She figured this was as good a time as ever. She wanted to know if Reagan Craven had any connection to the group and find out what he knew about Serena being there.

  Had Reagan simply been an innocent tourist here on the island, someone who’d wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time?

  Maybe.

  Cassidy broke off a piece of cookie and popped it into her mouth, still mulling things over.

  Unlike Abbott, Cassidy didn’t believe they had a serial killer here on the island. She wasn’t sure how those people had died, but she intended to find out.

  She dialed Kaleb’s number and listened as he answered on the second ring.

  “Why are you calling me, Chief?” he whispered.

  “I need your help.”

  “You can’t call me like this. I’m not even supposed to have this phone. I thought I told you that.”

  “What will Gilead do to you if he sees you with it?” The question was baited, and Cassidy knew it. She waited to hear what he’d say.

  Kaleb didn’t respond for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. “It’s not like that. But I’m breaking the rules. I could be kicked out.”

  “That might be the best thing that ever happened to you. Ask Lela.”

  “Don’t bring my sister into this.” Anger edged into his voice, and Cassidy knew she’d hit a nerve.

  She wasn’t ready to let this drop yet, though. “I believe Gilead threatened that if Lela didn’t stay quiet, he would harm you. How does that make you feel?”

  “He wouldn’t do something like that.”

  “I think he would. But that’s not why I called.” As much as Cassidy would love to convince him to abandon ship at the Cove, she had other matters to discuss.

  “You have ten seconds.”

  Cassidy leaned back in her seat and stared at the picture of Reagan Craven Abbott sent her. “I need to know if a woman was affiliated with Gilead’s Cove.”

  “I’m not your personal assistant or something. I prefer not to be in the middle of your investigations.”

  “I’d prefer Gilead’s Cove not be on Lantern Beach. But since that’s not a possibility, I’ve got to make the best of this.”

  “Who is she?” Kaleb asked after a moment of silence.

  Cassidy stared at the redhead on her screen. “Her name is Reagan Craven.”

  “Doesn’t ring any bells,” he answered quickly.

  He wasn’t getting out of it this easily. “I’ll text you her picture, just in case she used a different name.”

  “I doubt she’s someone I know.” Kaleb sounded irritated and rushed.

  “If she is, I need to know. Understand?”

  He hesitated again. “I understand.”

  “Great. I’m sending it as soon as I end this call.”

  He sighed but didn’t argue.

  She had one more question for him. “And have you seen Serena Lavinia there at the compound?”

  “Who?”

  “She’s a friend of Dietrich’s.”

  Kaleb grunted. “I can’t keep tabs on everyone who comes through here. Now, I’ve got to go.”

  The line went dead.

  True to her word, Cassidy sent the picture and then waited. A few minutes later, Kaleb replied with:

  Don’t know her.

  Cassidy frowned and replied:

  That’s not what I asked. Have you seen her?

  She waited but got no response. After several minutes, she called him. He didn’t answer.

  She clenched her jaw.

  What did Kaleb know? Why had Reagan come to this island? And what exactly had happened to her after she arrived?

  Someone knocked at her door. Cassidy looked up and saw Melva, the PD receptionist and dispatcher, standing there with the same anxious expression on her face that she always wore. The woman, who was in her late fifties, always had a grandmotherly vibe, with her short, poofy hair and matronly looking clothes.

  “Chief, we just got a phone call from the town administration,” she started. “Bob Anderson didn’t come into work today.”

  Bob Anderson was the town clerk and a hard worker. “How does that involve us?”

  “Apparently, his secretary has tried calling him and even went to his home. He’s not answering. She said this is very unlike him, and she wants to know if someone can go check on him.”

  “Call her back and tell her I’m going out there myself.”

  “Yes, Chief.”

  Cassidy knew it probably wasn’t anything. But maybe some fresh air would help her clear her head.

  Cassidy brought Dane with her to Bob’s place. His home was more unique than most of the houses in the area. Shaped like an octagon with a rounded roof, it had been painted bright purple. Cassidy didn’t know the story behind his house, but everyone in the island knew where it was.

  Turn at the corner by Bob Anderson’s house.

  Go past Bob Anderson’s purple house two blocks, and you’re there.

  If you reach Bob Anderson’s house, you’ve gone too far.

  Cassidy supposed there were good things about having such a unique residence.

  The strange thing was that the place didn’t seem to fit Bob at all. She’d met the man several times, and he was quiet and demure. From what she remembered, Bob was single and in his mid-fifties. He’d always seemed nice enough.

  She parked on the gravel space near his stairway and climbed to the front door.

  “These calls are always my favorite,” Dane said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Half the time, I find the person we’re looking for either passed out drunk or caught in a compromising position, if you know what I mean.”

  Cassidy nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had that happen a couple times.”

  “Here in Lantern Beach?” Dane asked.

  “No, in—” She almost said Seattle. She bit her tongue and quickly remembered her cover. “Back in Texas when I worked there.”

  “That’s right. Funny, though, you don’t remind me of a Texas gal.”

  “And how are Texas gals supposed to seem?” Cassidy kept her voice light.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose I expect more of a twang. Of course, you’ve got the sass and confidence I should expect.”

  “Well, Texas is a big state.” Was Dane fishing for information or just making chitchat? Cassidy wasn’t sure, but it was best to move on from this conversation.

  She pounded on Bob’s door and waited.

  Just as she suspected, there was no answer. The deck, however, stretched around the perimeter of the house.

  “You go left, I’ll go right,” Cassidy said.

  “Ten-four.”

  She breathed easier as soon as Dane was out of sight. Cassidy had almost said Seattle. She thought she was more careful than that. But she’d been thinking about home too much lately, especially after she’d received that threatening t
ext.

  She needed to be more careful in the future, though. Letting her guard down was always a bad, bad idea.

  Cassidy peered in the first window and saw an empty living room. Nothing seemed strange or out of place. However, she had noted that there was a car parked beneath the house. That alone indicated that Bob was most likely home.

  The next window showed much of the same, just from a slightly different angle. Still nothing.

  She suspected it would be the same for the next two windows. They all lined a great room that appeared empty.

  “Chief, come see this!” Dane called from the other side of the house.

  She quickly glanced through the other windows as she went past and met Dane.

  “Does that look like a shoe to you?” He nodded toward the window beside him.

  Cassidy peered inside, cupping her eyes against the glare. She sucked in a breath. That most certainly did look like a shoe. One that was attached to a leg, attached to a body behind the bed.

  “Call the paramedics. And then we need to get inside.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What do you think?” Cassidy asked Doc Clemson after he’d arrived at the scene and done a preliminary examination of Bob Anderson.

  Bob had been found on the floor beside his bed. He was dressed, as if he’d planned to go to work. His toothbrush was even wet, as if he’d brushed his teeth. Cassidy had checked.

  There were no signs that anything physical had happened—no blood or broken bones. The décor in his house—minimalist and simple—remained untouched, and everything was in its place. There were no signs of a break-in.

  “It’s hard to say without an autopsy,” Clemson said. “But I do know that Bob had some heart problems. It wouldn’t surprise me if his ticker stopped ticking, to put it lightly.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Me too. Bob was a nice guy.”

  “If you say so,” Cassidy agreed, even though she knew good and well that nice was subjective, and even nice guys could have their secrets. “By the way, I know this seems off subject, but, as town clerk, was Bob in charge of elections around here?”