by Debby Giusti
She noted the combat infantry badge on his chest and the Ranger tab on his shoulder. Both put him above and beyond in regards to combat readiness and the ability to handle any emergency. Even a twisted ankle.
“Somehow I don’t believe you.” His gaze penetrated hers with an intensity that left her light-headed.
She averted her eyes and glanced at where the path disappeared into the woods. “Could you slow down once we get to the wooded area?”
He smiled, revealing the dimples, which sent another wave of instability rumbling through her body. So much for being in control.
“Ladies first.” He gestured her forward. “You set the pace and I’ll follow.”
Knowing Phil was behind her made her stomach flutter whenever she thought of those dimples and the glint of warmth from his eyes. Luckily, the brush was dense, which forced her to focus on the path that eventually led to a smaller clearing.
A sense of déjà vu swept over Kelly as she stared at the thick trunk of the sturdy oak where she had hung last night. She turned to glance at Phil. “I wasn’t far from the trailer.”
He stepped forward and swept away the fallen leaves at the base of the tree with his boot.
“Looking for the rope?” She pulled a plastic evidence bag containing the cut edge of the thick hemp from her coat pocket. “I found this in my car when my garage door opened in the middle of the night.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I am law enforcement, Phil.”
“The local cops needed to know what happened, Kelly. I can’t believe you didn’t call them.”
“It was late. They would have taken a statement and looked around. I didn’t want them traipsing around my property.”
He stepped closer and stared down at her. “You’re too isolated in that house, Kelly. Have you thought about moving back to the bachelor officer’s quarters on post? Or you could get a room at the Post Lodge for a few days until this all blows over.”
“Kyle Foglio doesn’t frighten me.” She pointed to her holster. “Plus, I’ve got a gun.”
“What’s his story, Kelly?”
“He was a troubled kid. Then his dad went to jail. His mother has other interests than parenting, and his relationship with his stepmom isn’t the best. She had enough on her plate when her husband went to jail. Things might be different now, but I bet Kyle isn’t willing to step back into that environment.”
“So he’s striking out at you instead?”
“I’m the first one who hauled him in for questioning a couple of years ago when he came to live with his dad. He got into trouble and didn’t stay long on post.”
“Because of your intervention?”
“Because of the pressure put to bear on his father by the commanding general.”
“The big guns came out. You did that?”
“No, but Kyle might think I’m the reason. Nate Patterson was the lead investigator on his father’s case. I was in Savannah at the time caring for my mother, who was in the hospital.”
“Before you brought her back to the nursing home in Freemont?”
“That’s right. In the kid’s opinion, I’m probably the one who gave him the most grief.”
“So he comes after you?” Phil glanced around the clearing. “Is it a coincidence that he ends up hiding out on property next to the Taylors’ farmhouse?”
A cold wind broke through the clearing and sent a chill down Kelly’s spine. “I learned early on that there are no coincidences when you’re dealing with a crime.”
They hiked back to his pickup, and Phil helped Kelly into the passenger seat, knowing full well she was in pain. “You need to have someone look at that injury. An X-ray would be a good idea, as well.”
“Sounds like you’re hoping to get rid of me and have a new special agent assigned to your case.” She laughed as he slid behind the wheel and started the engine. The light, female sound made his lips curl into a smile and the tension in his shoulders ease a bit.
He was suddenly enjoying himself. “Don’t you think I like driving all over the outlying area of Freemont with a pretty blonde at my side? Most people say I’m wound too tight. They’ll get a different impression of me when they see me taking time off from the job to be with you.”
“Wound too tight? I’ve heard you’re a ladies’ man who enjoys tall and lanky women who are low on intellect and high on beauty.”
“Now that’s a sexist comment if I ever heard one.”
She huffed playfully. “Sexist?”
“Do you always believe everything you hear?”
“Didn’t you have an attractive date for the military ball a couple months ago?”
“Aha! You were watching me.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced at her.
“I was not.” Her cheeks warmed as she tried to backtrack, which made him want to laugh even more loudly. The cute CID agent was actually squirming in her seat.
Kelly wrapped her arms over her chest and raised her chin with determination. “As I recall, you were two tables over from me. Most of the guys at my table couldn’t keep their eyes off your date.”
“Funny.” Phil pulled his gaze back to the road. “I thought they were drooling over you.”
Kelly sat up straighter. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Captain.”
He stole a glance at her profile and noticed the red streak of embarrassment that rose from her neck. Seems Ms. Put Together CID Agent had trouble with her own self-image.
Some of her false bravado must be just that.
If truth be told, he enjoyed working with Kelly. She was smart and savvy and determined. All qualities he admired. Plus, she made him laugh.
He thought of the young punk who was undoubtedly causing her problems. Suddenly another feeling settled over him—a chilling realization that Kelly might be in danger.
He glanced at her once again as she looked out the window. He’d do everything he could to keep her safe.
EIGHT
“I’d like to talk to your mother-in-law.” Kelly and Phil stood on Lola Taylor’s front porch. The widow had opened her door a few inches and seemed hesitant to let them in.
Lola’s eyes were clear, and her face didn’t have the lines of fatigue Kelly had expected to see. From all indications, she seemed to have had a decent night’s sleep and was facing this particular Wednesday with a good outlook. Yet appearances could be deceiving. Kelly knew that for sure.
Most people thought she was put-together and hard-core. If they realized some of her own internal struggle, they might think otherwise. Her father’s caustic words of disapproval often circled in her head. He had been so careful to never utter them when her mother was around. Not that it would have mattered. Her mom looked through the eyes of love that were clouded by what she wanted to see instead of the reality of what really was.
“Your survival assistance officer should be contacting you soon to set up an appointment.” Phil peered around Kelly. “In the meantime, I wanted to check your husband’s insurance paperwork before the request for payment is submitted.”
“There won’t be a problem with the policy, will there?” Lola asked.
“No, ma’am. But I would like to talk to you about what still needs to be done.”
The widow finally seemed convinced that inviting the company commander and CID agent into her home would work to her advantage. Lola opened the door and let them in. Kelly smelled eggs and bacon and wondered if the widow had made breakfast for her mother-in-law.
“While you and the captain talk, I’ll visit with Mildred,” Kelly said as Lola closed the door behind them.
“She’s sleeping.” The widow’s tone was firm.
“Perhaps I could just sit with her.”
“I really don’t think that’s necessary.”
Kelly reached for Lola’s hand and offered a compassionate smile. “My own mother died just a couple weeks ago, Mrs. Taylor. I promise I won’t disturb Mildred, but I would like to see her again.”
> “I’m sorry about your loss, Agent McQueen. You must understand how I feel.”
“I won’t do anything to upset Mildred. I promise.”
Before Lola could reply, a faint cry came from the rear of the house. “Sounds like she’s awake.”
The widow shrugged. “She probably heard the knock at the door. I’ll check on her.”
“Please,” Kelly insisted. “I just want to say hello.”
Lola bristled and pulled her hand back. Then she relaxed a bit. “I haven’t told her about Rick.”
“I won’t mention his death.”
Kelly followed Lola along the hallway to the small bedroom at the rear of the house. The blinds were drawn, and the room seemed stuffy.
Mildred’s face cracked into a crooked smile when she saw Kelly. Her eyes, which had seemed clear last night, now appeared rheumy and clouded.
“Mother Taylor, I have breakfast warming in the kitchen when you feel up to eating.” Lola fluffed her pillow. “She’s having a bad morning, as you can see. Some days are better than others. Recently, she’s taken a turn for the worse. The doctor says her condition is deteriorating.”
“Is her doctor in Freemont?”
“Actually, there’s a geriatric clinic that handles cases like hers. It’s in a nearby town.”
“Garfield?” Kelly offered the name of the clinic she had used for her own mother. Lola shook her head but failed to offer more information as Mildred closed her eyes and slipped back to sleep.
Kelly pulled a chair closer to the bed. “Why don’t you talk to Captain Thibodeaux, and I’ll sit with your mother-in-law.”
Lola’s brow furrowed, but finally the widow shrugged. “Call me if she wakes. She needs to eat.”
“Of course.”
Lola returned to the living room where Kelly could hear her talking with Phil. She picked up a bottle of pills off the nightstand that held sleeping tablets. Another contained ibuprofen.
Kelly pulled open the small drawer on the bedside table-and found an empty bottle crammed all the way in the back, the pharmacy label was made out to Mildred Taylor. Thirty caplets of oxycodone.
The high-strength pain medication had been prescribed by Dr. Addison Kutter and filled at the Kutter Geriatric Clinic Pharmacy, although the label failed to provide an address or phone number for the facility. The date confirmed the prescription had been filled less than a week ago, but the bottle was empty.
Kelly scooted closer to the old woman and looked down at her face. The lines of concern that furrowed her brow when she was awake had relaxed, and Mrs. Taylor seemed at peace.
“What’s going on, Mildred?” Kelly whispered.
A doctor had prescribed oxycodone for pain, yet when Mildred had seemed distraught, Lola had given her mother-in-law an over-the-counter sleeping medication.
“I know you haven’t had time to decide on funeral arrangements,” Phil said to Lola as Kelly returned to the living room. “The wives in the company would like to host a lunch following the service. They’d also like to provide meals for you and your mother-in-law.”
Lola glanced nervously from Phil to Kelly. “How very thoughtful, but since there’s just the two of us, cooking isn’t a problem. Plus, my mother-in-law has problems maintaining her sugar levels and requires a special diet.”
Kelly stepped closer. “And her other condition?”
Lola rose from the couch in an obvious attempt to signal the visit was over. “Mildred suffers from osteoarthritis complicated with dementia, which you would no doubt realize if you spoke with her. She sometimes becomes delusional and suffers from bouts of paranoia that can go along with the dementia.” Lola turned cold eyes on Kelly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Sundowners syndrome.”
Kelly nodded. “Where mental awareness and memory regress around the time the sun goes down each day.”
“That’s right.” Mrs. Taylor stepped closer to Kelly.
“But you said she’s better in the morning, which is why Captain Thibodeaux and I stopped by now. We wanted to ask her about the property to the south of her farm. Do you know who owns the land? Or do you have any idea who would have set traps on the property?”
“Hunters perhaps?” Lola shrugged and held up her hands. “I never heard Mildred discuss any neighbors.”
“Did your husband mention anyone who seemed a bit strange?”
“Rick and I moved here only shortly before he deployed. We were still honeymooners, Agent McQueen, when he left for Afghanistan. We weren’t talking about who lived where.”
“Of course. Again, please accept my heartfelt sympathy.”
Phil walked to where Kelly stood, and the two of them followed Lola to the door.
“I was stationed at Fort Knox early in my career.” Kelly smiled warmly. “Were you from the area? Radcliff or Elizabethtown perhaps?”
“My home was in Vine Grove.”
“Nice town,” Kelly said before Phil shook Lola’s hand.
“Will you have relatives coming for the funeral, Mrs. Taylor?” he asked.
“I’m not sure at this point.”
“The company would like to help with transportation to and from the airport and with lodging reservations. As I mentioned earlier, the survival assistance officer will contact you later today.”
“He’ll call first?”
“Of course.”
Kelly didn’t say anything until she and Phil were both in the pickup. “Did anything hit you the wrong way?”
He glanced at her, their eyes locking. “She seems pretty much in control at this point. I would expect more signs of grief, but everyone faces the death of a loved one in a different way.”
She nodded. “You’re right.”
“Okay, I’m waiting. I know there’s a but.”
“But—” Kelly shrugged “—Lola doesn’t like people stopping by unannounced for one thing. She had a prescription for an addictive pain medication for her mother-in-law filled less than a week ago, yet the bottle is already empty.”
“Maybe she uses dispensing containers that hold a week or two worth of pills in individual compartments. When my aunt got older, she used them to ensure she took the right pills on the right days.”
Kelly sighed. “Maybe. I’m probably putting too much emphasis on her hesitancy to let me see Mildred.”
“She reminds you of your mom, doesn’t she?”
“Not in looks, but my mother was equally frail and debilitated before her death. The staff at the nursing home were wonderful, yet I still regret not being able to care for her in my home.”
“Your work. How could you have held down a job and ensured your mother was all right? I doubt she could have stayed alone.”
Kelly shook her head. “No, of course, not. Still…”
She glanced out the window as Phil turned the truck around. Something in the backyard caught her eye.
Kelly nudged Phil and pointed to four wire cages stacked next to a pile of cut firewood. “Are those chickens?”
Phil narrowed his gaze. “They look like roosters.” He braked to a stop. “Let’s check it out.”
Nearing the pile of firewood, Kelly bent down and looked in the cages. “They’re roosters, but their combs and wattles have been removed.”
Phil nodded. “The birds have been dubbed. Their back spurs have been removed, as well. My guess, they’ve been raised as gamecocks.”
“For fighting.”
“Looks like it to me. Cockfighting was a problem in Louisiana—at least it was when I was a teen. My aunt was a forgiving woman, but there were a few people in town who were known to have been involved in cockfighting. Aunt Eleanor refused to speak to them even in church.” He smiled at the memory. “She said there wasn’t any good that could come from watching God’s creatures fight to the death. Wasn’t sport for sure and nothing to bet on. Not that she was a betting woman. Now, of course, cockfighting is illegal in Louisiana and most other states, as well.”
The back door opened and Lola stepped onto th
e small cement step. “Is there a problem?”
Kelly and Phil both turned. “Not at all,” Kelly said. “We were just admiring your roosters.”
“They’re not against the law.”
Strange that she would instantly be on the defensive. But Lola was right. Having gamecocks was legal. However, betting on them or holding cockfights was not.
“Besides,” the widow continued. “They belong to a neighbor. I’m keeping them until he comes back to town.”
“A neighbor?” Kelly tilted her head. “But I thought you didn’t know anyone around here.”
“This gentleman lives outside of town to the east of Freemont. He should come to get his birds tonight.”
“Interesting.” Kelly turned and limped back to the pickup with Phil following close behind. Mrs. Taylor watched as they climbed into the truck and drove down the drive.
“She seemed concerned about us snooping around.” Kelly glanced back and could see Lola still staring after them. “I wonder what she’s trying to hide.”
NINE
Phil’s stomach growled. He looked up from the paperwork on his desk and glanced out the window. In the distance, the sky was darkening. Turning to face the clock on the wall, he was surprised to see it was already after 6:00 p.m. He and Kelly had grabbed a sandwich before noon, and both of them had been on the run ever since. No wonder his stomach was reminding him it was time for chow.
First Platoon’s weapons had been signed over to Jamison Steele and had arrived at the CID ballistics lab at Fort Gillam, in the metro Atlanta area. Kelly had spent most of the afternoon interviewing the men one-on-one, until she had been called back to CID headquarters for a meeting, which should have been over by now.
Phil picked up the phone on his desk and called the CID office. “Is Kelly around?” he asked when Jamison answered.
“She left earlier for the pistol range. She wanted to get in some target practice before she headed home. A garage repairman was stopping by her house at the end of his workday to change her automatic opener. You heard about the problem she’s been having?”
