“Wouldn’t they have questioned that?”
“They chalked it up to wind and timing.” He closed the folder. “Time to go back to the fence post and call Brynn to give her a look at the post through our virtual reality software.”
“And that’s important why?”
“I need her to confirm the bullet was removed by a knife. If she can’t do it from the shots I provide with Google Glass, then I’ll work with the property owner to allow me to remove the post and bring it back to her.”
Olivia shook her head. “If I ever doubted that your team would find this killer, I don’t doubt it anymore.”
“Oh, we’ll find him all right.”
Question was, would they find him before he killed again? Or before he sold the state-of-the-art technology to the highest bidder, who would use it to kill any person of his choosing?
Chapter 18
On the sofa in Patsy’s living room, Olivia was completely out of sync with the big strapping guy sitting next to her. No doubt she was developing feelings for Rick. Or maybe the psychologist in her wanted to help him, but now, as the thought popped into her head, she didn’t believe that. She was attracted to him. Pure and simple. A woman for a man. Nothing professional in her feelings for him at all. Sure, she’d be glad to help him reconcile with his family, but that was the end of her desire to act as his psychologist when so many other possibilities kept barreling into her brain.
“And where do you live, Agent Cannon?” Patsy asked, thankfully grabbing Olivia’s attention again.
“Rick, please,” he replied. “In D.C.”
As Patsy and Rick exchanged facts, Olivia looked around the living room. She hadn’t visited Patsy since she’d purchased her house, and Olivia loved the homey vibe of the wide front porch, the historic brick fireplace painted white, and the many original built-ins from the late eighteen hundreds. Olivia had always wanted to own her own home, but any money beyond her emergency fund that she could have saved for a down payment had gone to her family. Now even her emergency savings were depleted due to the identity theft.
Rick’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned. “Excuse me. I need to take this call.”
He stepped out the front door, and Olivia saw him, phone to ear, pacing past the window. He appeared to be getting bad news, and if it was bad for him, it was likely bad for her, too.
“He’s kind of intense,” Patsy said.
“Kind of?” Olivia laughed. “He’s over-the-top.”
“Just your type.”
“Not hardly.”
“Yes hardly. You pretend to like the sensitive, share-your-feelings type, so you end up dating the wrong guys, and that’s why you’re still single.”
“Dating? What’s that? I haven’t been on a date in years. I don’t have time to find the ‘sensitive’ man of my dreams.”
“Right. Keep telling yourself that.”
The door opened, and Olivia held up a finger to shush Patsy.
Rick pinned her with his gaze as if he’d overheard their conversation, but she waited him out, and he finally changed his focus to Patsy. “I need to take a video call. Would you have a room where I could do so in private?”
“Sure. My office–slash–guest room where you’ll be bunking.” She got up. “Right this way.”
Rick grabbed his laptop case and an overnight bag that made Olivia’s suitcase look like she’d packed for an ocean voyage a decade long.
He glanced at her. “We can grab some dinner when I’m done if you like.”
Alone. As in a date-like environment. Not hardly. “I’m sure Patsy would be happy to share dinner with us at a local place of her choosing.”
“Um, I’m busy tonight.” Patsy looked over her shoulder. “But I’m glad to recommend a few places for the two of you.”
Patsy hadn’t mentioned being busy before now, and Olivia suspected the business she mentioned had more to do with her comments about Rick. When Patsy returned, Olivia told her as much.
“He might want to talk about the investigation,” Patsy said. “And I wouldn’t have any reason to be there for that.”
Olivia’s phone rang. “Saved by the bell.”
Patsy laughed. “I’ll take your things to your room for you.”
Olivia answered the call from her sister. “Everything going okay there?”
“It’s great.” Dianna’s voice was the most upbeat and cheerful Olivia had heard it since Jason walked out. “Grace is so amazing. She spent the entire night here last night and didn’t wake me once. Then she had breakfast delivered for all of us. We ate this incredible feast while she went home to change. She came right back and stayed with the kids so I could go swimming and sit in the hot tub. Oh, and she had a massage appointment this afternoon, and she insisted I take it instead. She even paid for it.”
“Wow.” Olivia wondered what Rick would make of his mother’s generosity. “So did you call to brag on Grace, or did you need something?”
“It’s Harrison. He said you didn’t call him back, and he’s insisting on coming over here.”
“I’m sorry. With everything that’s been happening, I forgot again.”
“Maybe now’s the time to tell me why you had to race out of town so fast.”
Olivia hadn’t wanted to worry her sister with a second murder and so had avoided providing details. “Like I said. It’s a work thing.”
“Right, like you had an emergency counseling session in Mobile that required the help of a dreamy FBI agent.”
Olivia sighed and finally understood the frustration Rick felt when she kept after him for information about the investigation that he couldn’t share with her.
“I can’t talk about it, but I will call Harrison.” She quickly said goodbye before Dianna asked additional questions. She dialed her brother, who would quiz her even more.
“About time you called.” He launched into an explanation of how slighted he felt over Dianna’s free vacation and listed the reasons he was more deserving.
Not once in their ten-minute conversation did he even ask about her or why she was in Mobile. Of course he didn’t. He considered only himself, and she knew deep in her heart that when they caught the killer and her life returned to normal, she had to deal with her family’s unhealthy dependence on her.
After ending the call, she wandered down a narrow hallway to a small bedroom with a plump bed covered in Patsy’s great-grandmother’s quilt. Patsy was Olivia’s first college roommate, and Olivia would never forget the day she’d arrived on campus to find Patsy spreading out the quilt on her bed. She’d immediately warned Olivia that it was priceless to her and Olivia better not spill anything on it or otherwise ruin it.
Patsy hefted Olivia’s suitcase onto a small bench at the foot of the bed. “I see you still don’t travel light.”
Olivia smiled. “And I see you’re still using the quilt. I’m surprised you trust me with it.”
Patsy swatted a hand at her and headed for the door. “Go ahead and get settled in, and I’ll make that list of restaurants for you.”
Olivia didn’t feel like unpacking, so she plopped onto the bed and leaned back to close her eyes for a minute. For some reason the parking garage came to mind, along with the feel of Rick’s hand sliding into her hair, her scalp tingling at his touch. She didn’t even have to close her eyes to remember the emotions that had raced through her. To remember the color of his eyes up close. The warmth emanating from his body, his musky and very masculine scent.
As Patsy had said, he was the kind of guy she was attracted to, but that meant nothing. It had to, didn’t it?
* * *
Rick set his laptop on a small desk against the wall opposite the Murphy bed that Patsy had demonstrated how to operate. He opened their secured video conferencing program and waited for the rest of the team to log in for a status update.
“We’re all here,” Max announced.
Rick explained his visit with the detective, the trip to the parking g
arage, and a second visit with the detective to pick up the saliva sample. “I’m bringing the paint and saliva to you tomorrow, Brynn. Can you process immediately?”
“Sure, if the local lab will give me access again.”
“I plan to review the case file in detail tonight. If I find any additional evidence that’s taking its sweet time to be processed, I’ll try to fast-track that as well.” He caught a breath before continuing. “And per your request, I’m bringing back the fence post where the bullet was removed. I hope you and maybe the Toolmarks guys at Quantico can confirm the theory of the slug removal.” Brynn worked closely with the FBI’s only forensic lab that was located in Quantico, Virginia.
“I won’t even ask what you had to do to get the owner to saw off the fence post for you.” She grinned.
“Just a bit of Southern charm.”
“You, charming?” Kaci shook her head hard. “No way.”
“My mama taught me how to work it,” he said, using his thickest drawl, which he’d never done with the group, and wondered why he’d chosen now to loosen up.
They chuckled, and he felt something akin to friendship that he’d only really experienced with Levi. He hadn’t reached out to the team for the same reason he’d been closemouthed with Olivia. He didn’t want to get close to them, or anyone else for that matter, as that would mean revealing all his baggage. But this felt good. Right. Maybe trusting Olivia had opened the path for more in his life.
“I do want to point out,” he continued, “that if the shooter taking a prone position in the garage is correct, it could further cement that our shooter’s active or former military, but it could also say he’s an experienced shooter.”
“Which means my visits to the gun clubs and ranges are even more important,” Shane said. “It was a bust today, but I still have a number of places on the list.”
“Keep me informed,” Rick said.
“Will do,” Shane replied. “How goes it with Olivia? Any better feel for her involvement?”
“I’ve seen no evidence of it,” he replied, trying to sound impartial. “Perhaps it’s time for us to take a more inductive approach to our investigation in regards to her.”
Shane arched an eyebrow. “You mean stop thinking she’s involved, as it could be coloring our opinions? Instead analyze her credibility as a witness?”
“Exactly,” Rick said.
“Speaking of credibility, I’ve concluded her background screening, and I haven’t found anything to suggest she’s anything other than an upstanding citizen. And her client list revealed she hadn’t treated an officer for years, so she couldn’t be using her job to get sensitive details.”
Max’s forehead creased. “We’ve uncovered no motive for her involvement either.”
Rick nodded. “Based on that, there’s no reason to suggest we keep her on our suspect list.”
“It does remove any emotion from the equation and replace it with analytical elements,” Shane said.
Brynn frowned. “But it also removes our gut feel, and that often leads us to our suspects. So I don’t think we should be so hasty.”
“Doesn’t take away my gut feel,” Rick added, but had to wonder if he was letting emotions dictate his response. “I just don’t see her as being in on this and have given her a thorough evaluation.”
“Then let’s drop all efforts to connect her as a coconspirator,” Max said. “But by all means, we need to determine why two of her clients are now lying dead.”
“I’ll be talking to the bread truck driver and Santos’s wife in the morning. Maybe she can shed some light on a connection. And the ME promised the autopsy report in the morning as well. Not that I expect any big revelation, but it might contain something of interest.”
“Any other updates?” Max asked.
“I contacted the last of my sources in our field offices,” Kaci said. “No one has a lead on any actors who could have targeted MilMed.”
“I’ve gotten a similar response from my CIA contacts,” Max said. “We’ll back-burner the foreign sales for now.”
“Except for monitoring the darknet,” Kaci added. “If there’s any chatter about foreign sales, it’ll show up there.”
“Understood,” Rick said, hoping this deadly weapon system didn’t reach foreign soil.
* * *
Rick strode past an Iraqi tank at USS Alabama Battleship Memorial Park on Mobile Bay. He’d come here to see the Fallen Heroes Memorial honoring those who’d lost their lives in Iraq and Afghanistan since the 9/11 terror attacks. He’d lost his buddy Hank Vose from Alabama, and Rick wanted—no, needed—to pay his respects.
The wind whipped across the park, and Olivia struggled to keep her hair out of her face. Still, she remained in step with him, her spiky heels clicking on the concrete path.
“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she said.
“Everyone should be interested in military history,” he replied quickly. “Might help keep us from repeating it.”
“I was joking, Rick.” She wrinkled that cute little nose, and despite the purpose of their visit to the park, he smiled.
“I promise dinner will be more…” He almost said “romantic,” but they weren’t on a date. They were on a business trip, and they’d both best remember that. “I’m surprised Patsy didn’t join us for dinner.”
“That was her attempt at matchmaking.”
“Us?” His voice croaked like a middle schooler’s.
“I know, right? She says you’re my type.”
He stopped dead in his tracks and faced her. “And am I?”
“Let’s see.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “You’re very good looking, which I suspect is any woman’s type. You’re decisive, and I like that. Extremely confident.”
He couldn’t tell if she was joking or serious, but he had to find out. “I hear a but coming next.”
“But,” she replied, drawing out the word, “I’d rather be in a relationship with someone who’s more open and willing to share.”
“Right. That. I told you about my parents.”
“After I nagged you to death.”
He wished he could tell her that it had been a fluke and that he’d be more open, but history didn’t support that. “I’ve told you more than most people.”
She gave him a tight smile. “You’re very private. I get that. But that’s what I’m talking about. I want more in a relationship.”
“And yet.” He paused and met her gaze. “There’s something—a connection—between us, and it seems to be getting stronger.”
She nodded, then held his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I’ll do anything about it.”
He didn’t want a relationship, but her continued rejection stung, and he turned to stare over the choppy water. “I can’t change who I am. Not for you. Not for anyone.”
“You can, actually. For yourself. You have to decide it’s worth it to share and get to know someone. But don’t work on it on my account. For a possible relationship, that is. You’re also former military, and I won’t go down that path.”
He swung his focus back to her. “Path?”
“You may not show the classic signs of military stress, but I see it in you. Who knows, maybe that’s why you keep everything bottled up. You want to keep a tight control because you’re afraid if you let go, whatever happens might sink you.”
He had his share of demons from the war, but they weren’t controlling his life by any means. Not something she’d want to hear. She’d already made her mind up about him. “Sounds like you have me all figured out.”
“No. Just speculating. Besides, I get the feeling that you’re not interested in a relationship either.”
He looked at her. “What makes you think that?”
“You said you wanted kids, but it wouldn’t happen. Either you have a physical reason you can’t have children, or you don’t see yourself getting married.”
She was trying to dig deep again, and he didn’t like it. He shif
ted his weight and widened his stance. “No health issues, and I’m not getting married again.”
Her eyes widened, shock at his revelation obvious in the darkening of her eyes.
“You were married?” She whispered the words as if she’d lost her voice.
He nodded and decided to share the bare minimum with her. “Traci and I got married in our early twenties. While I was still in the marines, her car hit a tree. She died instantly, and so did our unborn son.”
“How awful for you.” She took his hand between hers. “I’m so sorry.”
It had been a long time since he’d had a woman’s comforting hand in his, and the warmth was amazing and reassuring. Encouraging, drawing him physically and emotionally closer to her, so he continued. “I didn’t know Traci was pregnant until the autopsy. I was deployed in Afghanistan when she died. Had been for months, with limited contact. Turns out Traci had told her therapist that she was conflicted about the pregnancy. She was depressed and could hardly handle taking care of herself. She figured with me gone so often, she’d be a single parent, and she couldn’t deal with that. So she was considering terminating the pregnancy.”
“Oh, Rick.”
Her sympathy was nearly his undoing. Nearly the thing to release the free fall of emotions she’d predicted. He stared at their hands. “The police think Traci might have ended her life. If she’d only told me about the baby, I would have left the marines. Come home.”
She squeezed his hand, but he still couldn’t look at her.
“Such a stress is hard to recover from, and it makes perfect sense that you think you’ll never be a father.” She stepped closer, bending forward to make eye contact. “Have you ever considered talking to someone about it?”
Right. She was a shrink. Always a shrink. Not the woman he’d come to care for more than was good for either of them. He pulled his hand free and stepped back. “Talk to someone like a shrink, you mean.”
Kill Shot Page 19
