by C. K. Raggio
“Can anybody vouch for that?” Rick asked.
“My, uh, my kennel manger can. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me.” He led them to the door, his feet pounding against the ground.
Cassie exchanged a glance with Rick. “When will your kennel manger be in?”
He kept his back to them and paused. “She’s on vacation this week. I’ll let her know you’d like to speak with her when she gets back.”
“Okay.” You’d have to be blind to know Gary wasn’t hiding something. “Well, we’re grateful for your time. Place looks great. How’d the cottage out back come out? Last time I was here it was close to being done.”
Instead of softening, which is what she’d expected, he seemed to grow more agitated. His fingers clenched around the doorknob as he opened it. Veins throbbed in his arms and neck as he spoke slowly, “Next time call and let me know you’re coming, I’d be happy to show you the cottage. Unfortunately right now I don’t have the time.”
She hit a nerve and wasn’t about to back down yet. “Couldn’t we just pop over there and take a look around ourselves?”
“No,” he blurted, then cleared his throat. “I-I have a dog in training in there right now. And you know how that is.” He gave them a stiff grin.
“We’ll be in touch, Mr. White.” Rick nudged her out the door.
Gary slammed it shut.
“I’ve never known him to be like that,” Cassie said as they walked to the car.
“Like what? A suspicious asshole?”
“I don’t know. I’m not the guy’s best friend, but I’ve seen him with puppies and handicapped kids. He’s always been well-spoken. I worked with him for two years in high school and never heard him raise his voice or act anxious in any way.”
Rick opened Cassie’s door for her. “Well, it didn’t take much to get his panties in a wad. You saw his face when you mentioned the cottage. Something’s up with this guy.”
She bit the inside of her cheek as she waited for Rick to get in the car. She’d wanted to knee Gary in the balls and charge for the cottage, but she couldn’t. They needed to go by the book; it was already unthinkable that they’d all been allowed to stay on the case.
“I think we need to tread lightly here,” she said. “Gary’s well liked in a lot of circles. His dogs win awards every year for their assistance with the handicapped. We don’t want people thinking we’re harassing him, or God forbid, accusing him of anything.”
“You’re right. We need to get something on him first.” He smiled at her. “I’ll make you a deal. If you go home for the rest of tonight and tomorrow, then you and I will go up to Bayhead first thing Wednesday morning. See if the story he gave us was true.”
Cassie’s stomach clenched at the thought of being alone with Rick again. A tinge of embarrassment hit her every time she thought of their kiss and how she’d acted. He’d been right, it wasn’t the right time. At this point it seemed it would never be the right time. Maybe that was for the best. He seemed like more of a one-night stand kind of guy anyway.
She thought of Izzy. Her partner was probably screaming down at her from heaven to make an exception and go for it. She grinned back at him. “Deal, but I’m driving.”
CHAPTER 24
Cassie and Sam jogged with the dogs toward her house. Every breath she took frosted the late afternoon air. Exercise always helped clear her head, and with everything that’d happened she figured she’d need a lot more of it.
Snow and Sable reached the driveway and stood barking at them. Cassie lengthened her stride, smirking when she heard Sam groan as he sprinted after her the last twenty yards to the dogs.
“Woo.” She put her hands to the back of her head, walking in small circles. “Four miles isn’t even that far.”
“Yeah, speak for yourself.” Sam hunched over, hands on his knees, gasping to catch his breath. “I thought you said we were going for a short jog. Please remind me never to go on a long one with you.”
She laughed. “This coming from someone who ran his first marathon when he was eighteen.”
“Yup, and there’s a reason I never ran a second. I hate running.”
She snickered, brushing sweat from her face. “Come on, old man. Let’s get you inside. Need me to drive the car down or can you make it to the door?”
“All right, Miss Sarcastic. Do I need to show you the abs? Women all over town are talking about them.” He lifted his shirt and rubbed his hand up and down his chiseled stomach muscles.
He had good reason to gloat. Sam had been going to the gym religiously since high school.
“Snow, Sable,” she called. “Let’s go inside.”
The dogs, looking for any excuse to race, charged to the door. Pink tongues hung from the sides of their toothy grins. Cassie let them in ahead of her so she wouldn’t be trampled in their sprint to the water bowl.
Heads together, they lapped at the water, splashing it all over the floor. She sighed.
“So, you really going upstate tomorrow?” Sam asked. “Alone with, what’s-his-face agent guy?”
“Yes. And his name is Rick.”
“On a first name basis with this character already?”
“What? Are you jealous?” She teased, tapping his cheek with her hand.
He collapsed onto a kitchen chair. “Huh? Of what? I will have you know, I have a very hot date with a beautiful woman named Deanna tonight.”
“Ooh, at least this one isn’t ugly. Where did you meet the flavor of the week?” She held up a finger. “No. Wait. Let me guess. The gym. No, a bar.”
Sam gave her a deep, dimpled grin. “Both. Saw her at the gym first, then at the bar.”
“Aw, Sam, maybe it’s fate. You’ll fall in love, get married and have a bunch of little Sams parading around with puffed out chests. God help us all when that happens.”
Sweat trickled down her back. She grabbed two towels from the cabinet and threw one at his face. It found its mark, making her grin. “Romeo, you’re sweating all over my chair.”
He wiped his brow. “Tsk, tsk, my dear. It’s Casanova. Romeo was a pussy, that one, fell in love. Something I’ve never done. And two, he killed himself over a girl he’d met a handful of times. I don’t think so, not my style.” He scrunched up his nose and took a few whiffs of the air. “You’re complaining about me sweating on your furniture, I can smell you from over here. Take a shower for god’s sake.”
“You’re hilarious.” Sometimes he could be such an ass, acting like a teenager. She huffed and strode to the bathroom.
Sam snickered behind her. “You still only have the one small water heater, right?”
She put a hand to her hip. “Don’t you dare touch that faucet.” It’d been a war between them when they were younger. If one person took a shower, the other would run the sink and either scald them or freeze them. “I’ll kill you.”
He winked at her. “Not if I get you first.”
She stormed into the bathroom, flipping him off before she closed the door.
~~~
Cassie sat at the table, stuffed from her father’s famous linguini with white clam sauce. She stared at her laptop screen, waiting for it to pull up information on Bayhead, New York. The signal at her place was slower than slow. She peered over the still-loading page, watching her father and Sam in a heated discussion about football.
She could care less. It was a pansy sport compared to hockey. In her opinion anyway. She hadn’t been to any games this year, a first, and it was kind of depressing. The three of them always made it to at least one of the New York rivalry games. It’d been a tradition since Sam moved in with them. Izzy had even gone once.
She laughed to herself at the memory. Her partner had of course gotten into a fight with not one, but four highly intoxicated guys who'd been sitting behind them. She dumped her drink over one, kicked another, punched one in the gut, and the other in the groin. Sam had intervened, throwing her over his shoulder before she could really hurt them. No charges were made against
her, but she was blacklisted from the Coliseum.
Cassie’s stomach clenched as if the dinner she so enjoyed was about to come back up on her. She took a deep breath to settle it. Anytime she thought about Izzy, and all the crazy things she had done, it made the emotions rise to the surface. God, how she missed her. Izzy would be so pissed if she knew how many hours Cassie spent crying over her.
Sam’s voice returned her to the present as he talked heatedly about how his team was going to crush her father’s. She smiled. He could always make her smile.
They met Sam when he was thirteen and trying to steal her dad’s bike off the front porch. Her father told him if he needed it that bad he could take it, but he had to pay for it. Sam didn’t have any money, so her father had him help wash and tie up the boat after school everyday. He never missed an afternoon until two years later.
Everyone in the neighborhood knew Sam’s story. His mother was addicted to pain killers and his father was a raging alcoholic. Cassie’s father knew a bit more. Sam’s dad was a giant by most standards. A retired Olympic wrestler. Sam often came by with bruises. He admitted his father knocked him around when he was drunk, but said he deserved it for being a wiseass.
He told Cassie’s dad it wasn’t a big deal. In those days a parent could get away with smacking their kid around without much interference. Her father told Sam that he could stay with them whenever he wanted if things got to be too much. Sometimes Sam stayed for days at a time.
When Cassie was in middle school, Sam didn’t show up to help her father with the boat. They figured maybe he was sick, since he hadn’t been at school either. The next day, her backpack still draped over her shoulders she found her dad scrubbing away at the boat deck alone again. “Hey, Dad.”
Her father pulled the brim of his hat down to shield his eyes from the glaring sun. “Hey, Sweetie.” His tone was strained, edged with worry.
“Where’s Sam?”
He frowned as he jumped up onto the dock with two bushels of clams clenched in each fist. “I don’t know. He didn’t show up again. I was going to finish up here and run by his place. Why don’t you put your stuff down and come along. If he’s not feeling well, I know seeing you will help.”
“Okay.” A prickle at the nape of her neck kept her from smiling. He hadn’t been at school again either. He must really be sick. She grabbed some canned chicken noodle soup, crackers, and OJ from the kitchen. He was always saying how they never had anything to eat at his house.
The drive to Sam’s was a quick ten minutes. Two cars sat in the driveway. Sam’s bike leaned against the porch railing. The curtains were closed, the house dark.
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Wait here for a second. Let me make sure he’s not contagious.”
Cassie had stared at the clock as the minutes ticked by. She was about to get out and see what was keeping her father when he finally came out. He had his arm draped protectively over Sam’s shoulder as he led him to the car.
She opened the door. “Sam?”
He stared at his feet, his body shaking like he’d fallen in the bay in the middle of winter. Then she saw the bruises up and down his arms. A blackening eye, a split lip.
“Cassie,” her father’s voice broke. “I need you two to stay in the car. There’s been an accident.” Sirens wailed in the distance, moving closer. “I have to speak with the police. Promise me you won’t leave the car.” He stared at her, his expression a mix between pleading and demanding.
She’d never seen him acting this strange. “I promise.”
It wasn’t until years later, after she’d started considering becoming a police officer that her father told her what he’d seen. When her father walked into Sam’s house that day the first thing he saw was Sam’s mother laying in a puddle of blood in the living room, her head caved in. Then he found Sam tied naked to a chair in the basement. His father at Sam’s feet with a gunshot wound to the head.
Sam’s dad had been molesting him since he was five. The abuse only happened when his mom was passed out on drugs or not around. But his mother had caught him. She went berserk and tried to call the cops. His father beat her head in with Sam’s baseball bat before she could get to the phone.
He molested Sam one last time. Then blew his own brains out.
When Cassie’s father found out Sam had no other family and that he would be sent into foster care, he filed for guardianship.
By the end of October, Sam was flunking out of school. He was depressed and wouldn’t leave his room. Cassie’s father feared the state would take him away from them. He needed some way to release Sam from his depression, his guilt. He’d noticed how Sam’s eyes lit up when he watched hockey games on TV. It was their last hope.
They went to the Coliseum to see a game and as they handed in their tickets, Sam’s demeanor changed. A smile touched his lips for the first time in a month when he saw the white sheet of ice. He kept asking Cassie if she could smell that. When she asked what? He said, the ice, the ice.
He started playing the next day and eventually received a full scholarship to college. The only thing that stopped him from playing the big leagues was all the beatings he’d taken from his father. All the concussions he’d given him. One hard hit, head first into the boards during a championship game ended his dream. The doctors warned him, one more and he could have permanent brain damage. Or worse.
It was one broken dream after another for Sam, but he always kept his head up. Insisted things would work out for the best. She wished she could be more like him. Sam caught her watching him and smiled and winked at her. She returned it. He had the sexiest smile. She’d seen first hand what his deep dimples alone did to women. They worked on her too, and she’d known him forever.
She couldn’t quite put a finger on their relationship. They never dated, had kissed only once on a dare. She didn’t think of him as a brother, although he was annoying like one. She loved him, but in what way?
Her computer finally caught a signal and the information she’d been waiting for flashed on the screen. Damn thing was so frustrating. Slower than shit. She spent the next half hour reading and taking notes on Bayhead. After waiting another five minutes for her computer to pull up directions, she was ready for some sleep. She yawned, kissed her father goodnight and flicked Sam’s ear.
“Hey. What was that for?”
“That was for turning the water on while I was in the shower today. I nearly froze.”
He shrugged. “The dogs were thirsty.”
“I’ll get you back when you least expect it.”
“Ooh, I’m so scared.”
She smiled. Now was as good a time as any. “Whatever, just make sure you use protection tonight on your hot date.”
Her father turned from the TV. “What date? With who?”
Sam groaned. “Thanks, Cass.”
She chuckled. Dad loved to grill him on his choice of women. Her phone rang. Glancing at the number, her lips tightened. “Logan.”
~~~
The elevator rumbled as it came to a stop on the eighth floor of the hospital. Cassie dodged past a couple holding balloons. Hank and Phil were right outside the doors. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s in a coma,” Phil said. “Sanders is talking to his son. Four kids found him. They said they first saw him around 5:30 PM. He had a lab with him, and was speaking to someone. They didn’t see the person’s face, but they thought it was a male, a little taller than Gary. The kids went in the woods, smoked their pot and goofed off for forty-five minutes. They heard the dog yelp just as they were headed back.”
She couldn’t believe it. They finally have a suspect they were seriously looking into and he gets attacked.
Hank sighed. “The kids knew our boys would be down there patrolling. They didn’t call it in right away because they were afraid they’d get in trouble for the drugs.”
“When did the officer on duty show?” Cassie asked.
“He pulled in five minutes after the boys found Gary,
” Hank said. “It was Officer White, Gary’s son. His first day back on the job since his suspension over leaving Izzy’s place.”
Cassie stared at the white linoleum floor. She couldn’t help but think about what they’d seen when they went to Gary’s center. Did Dave have something to do with everything? “How bad is Gary?”
Hank rubbed his jaw. “Critical, his brain is swelling. They’re taking him into surgery to remove part of his skull to ease the pressure. Both kneecaps were shattered. Our guy beat the shit out of him.”
Cassie’s eyes shot from the floor to Hank. “How do you know it was our guy?”
“Half of Gary’s face was bitten off. One of the guys from forensics was in the area, he stopped by and measured the teeth marks. They matched. The real question here is why? Why go from killing women to attacking Gary?”
Rick walked up behind Hank. “Because Gary was a part of it from the start.”
They all moved in closer together. “Dave White just admitted to me his father had been acting strange since we found Tina Conner. He’d go out at weird times at night, had hushed conversations over a cell the kid had never seen before.” Rick leaned forward. “The night someone tried to get in Cassie’s, Dave said he went to his dad’s place to check on him. Gary was soaking wet, said he got a flat and changed it in the rain. Dave knew he was lying since he’d used his father’s spare the week before on his own truck. Also, the accident, the night Izzy was taken, Dave didn’t believe a word his father had said.”
That’s what the fight between Dave and his dad must’ve been about. His son wanted answers.
Phil threw up his hands. “What the hell! Why didn’t he bring this up sooner?”
“Come on, Phil, you know why,” Cassie whispered. “He didn’t want to believe it. That his father would have something to do with the murders. I don’t even want to believe it.”
“Tell that to Izzy’s family, Cass.” He jabbed a finger at her chest, raising his voice. “What the fuck? Why you sticking up for him?”
