Strand of Deception

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Strand of Deception Page 4

by Robin Caroll


  Nick slowly turned toward the lighter footsteps.

  “And these two lovely, gun-toting ladies are our DNA/serology scientists Eva Langston and—”

  Nick locked gazes with her. “Maddie Baxter.” His gut tightened.

  “Nick Hagar.” Her big brown eyes blinked at him from behind her glasses.

  He knew she worked in the crime lab. Knew she was a forensic scientist. Knew she was a specialist in her field.

  He just hadn’t expected to see her. Out here. Like this. In his world.

  “You two know each other?” Helm’s tone held a hint of proprietorship.

  Maddie licked her lips. “Yes. My brother’s an FBI agent, remember?”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Helm turned his back to Nick and addressed his unit. “Okay, team, what we have is a female in her car. The door was found open, so Ivan, dust until you can find a print. There’s little blood to the naked eye for retrieval, so Maddie and Eva, let me know if you need anything.”

  He shifted. “Kurt, I need photos from every angle, and I do mean every. Even from above and below. And Neal, make sure you measure every little distance and collect samples from every particle of foliage in the area.”

  Helm paused and turned to Nick. “Anything else you care to share with us?” The unspoken challenge hung between them.

  Nick mentally shook off the shock at seeing Maddie again and focused on the task at hand. “There are two aspects here. First, the car is registered to the daughter of a very prominent politician who has reported her missing. Second, initial observation of the scene is that this is similar to that of the college girl’s body found last week. A possible serial.”

  Helm cleared his throat. “Nothing gets missed, got that? We bag anything, test everything, and let the results speak for themselves. Any questions?”

  No one said a word.

  “Then let’s do it.”

  The group moved to the car. One of the techs handed Nick a pair of shoe covers. He pushed them over his boots as he hobbled. He hurried to fall into step beside Maddie. “How are you?”

  “Fine.” She paused for a moment. “How’ve you been?”

  “Good. Busy. With work.” Something about her tied his tongue into knots. He steadied his footing as they crossed the yellow crime-scene tape fluttering in the wind. “Your sister okay?”

  “Yeah. She’s healing well. Thank you for asking.” She motioned to one of the techs to set the stand for her case.

  Could she be any more polite? Like they were strangers. He’d thought their date had gone well. They’d made a second date, but her little sister had gotten shot, and Maddie had hurried to Louisiana to check on her. She had told him she’d call when she got back into town.

  His phone had never rung.

  She set her case on the stand and opened it.

  Maddie made it clear that the conversation was over. But Nick couldn’t stop himself. “I heard Rafe got engaged.”

  She nodded as she slipped on greenish-blue gloves. “He did. Remington’s great. They’re good together.”

  “I’m glad. He deserves the happiness.” Nick chuckled. “Even though I miss him in the office.”

  She smiled, then blushed. So cute. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you. I’ve been swamped catching up after I got back and then—”

  “No worries. I understand.”

  The other lady, who upon closer inspection looked nothing like Joy, thank goodness, approached. “You ready, Maddie?”

  Maddie jerked her head, her long, auburn hair falling over her shoulder. The cap did nothing to hide the shine of her locks. “Well, I better get to it.” She lifted the extraction tools.

  “Yeah. Nice seeing you again.”

  She blushed again, then followed her associate to the car.

  The medical examiner joined him. “Saw the press.”

  Nick glanced over his shoulder at the vehicles lining the road, their bright lights already blazing in the distance. “Yeah. Like cockroaches, they come out at the first scent of something.” He spied Timmons pulling along the line of media vans. Turning back to McMichael, he jerked his head toward Gina’s car. “What’s the story?”

  “Three stab wounds to the chest. Neck appears to be broken. Ligature marks around the neck. I’ll know more once I do the autopsy.”

  Nick stared at the car. “Same MO as the girl from last week?”

  Cullen McMichael shrugged. “Hard to tell. The stab wounds are consistent with Hailey Carter’s, but her neck hadn’t been broken. We’ll see once I do my complete exam.”

  “Estimated time of death?”

  “Based on what I can tell now, I’d say this morning between eight and ten.”

  Nick made a mental note. “Any ID on the body?”

  McMichael sighed. “Yep. Driver’s license in her shirt pocket. TBI pulled her cell phone from the console as well. And before you ask, it’s her. Gina Ford.”

  “He is hot, girl.” Eva withdrew a blood sample from a drop no bigger than a dime from the car’s floorboard and tilted her head toward Nick. “If you aren’t interested, give me his number. I’ll for sure call him.”

  “I never said I wasn’t interested.” Maddie glanced over her shoulder. Scowling at them, Nick still stood with the medical examiner.

  “Ah, so you are interested?” Eva grinned as she labeled the sample.

  Kurt stared at them through the front windshield, his digital camera clicking quietly, but didn’t say a word.

  “Give it a rest, Eva. Stay focused. We can’t afford any mistakes on this one.” She should take her own advice but could feel Nick’s stare on her. Heat spread from her spine as she concentrated on swabbing under the girl’s fingernails.

  “I can concentrate and admire a fine specimen of the male species at the same time. Easy-peasy.” She bagged and labeled the cell phone sitting in the console. The latest model of the popular smartphone was turned off.

  Maddie pressed her lips together. The more she protested, the more Eva would tease. “Did you take samples from the jeans?”

  “Yep. Labeled and stored.”

  “If this wind doesn’t die down, we’re going to have to set up a block. I think I have a print.” Ivan’s brows knitted into a scowl.

  The sky streaked orange as the sun dipped toward the horizon. They had maybe ten more minutes of daylight.

  Eva stored the samples and turned to Maddie. “Ready to check out the front?”

  Maddie did a final inspection of the body’s hands, trailing up her arms, to her shoulder . . . “Hang on.” She pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose. What was that? “Is that a blood spot on the shoulder blade?”

  Eva leaned forward. “Looks like it. Not a splatter though. Not that far back.”

  “Hand me another swab. I’m taking a sample.” She swabbed, secured, and labeled the sample and set it in the case. She stood, careful not to disturb Ivan’s work, and glanced over the hood at Kurt. “You got all the shots you need before we move her?”

  He nodded. “Ready when you are.”

  Maddie bent back alongside the driver’s seat. She nodded to Eva, hovering through the passenger’s seat. “Okay, now let’s check out the front.”

  They eased the girl’s body back against the car seat. Maddie shook her head as she peered into the girl’s lifeless eyes opened wide in fear. Senseless. Loss of life was always startling and wasteful to her, but for someone so young, so on the cusp of life, so beautiful—her death was truly senseless. Much like her own parents’ death, but justice had been served on the drunk driver who’d killed them. Maddie and her brother and sister had the benefit of closure. But not the loved ones of this girl . . . not unless the team flawlessly executed their jobs.

  Maddie did an initial observation of the body. “Looks
like her neck is bruising. And it’s at an odd angle. Could be broken, I guess.” She leaned back on her heels and stared up at Ivan. “You about done with the door?”

  He nodded. “I think I got two fulls and three partials.”

  “Can you dust her neck before we touch her? I think she might have had someone’s hands in that area.”

  “Sure.”

  She stood and moved back, letting Ivan have full access. Her gaze traveled over the area. Car was left close enough to the campus buildings to be detected soon enough, so the killer wasn’t exactly trying to hide the body. And the open door was a definite calling card. Had the other victim’s car door been left open? Maddie couldn’t remember all the details of the news report.

  The sun slipped another step closer to setting. Maddie shivered and slowly turned, scanning the area. Why here? Was it some sort of statement?

  Her stare stopped on Nick, his focus on her. The epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Not to mention the strong line of his jaw, the appeal of the stubble covering his cheeks and chin, and the pull of his single brow raised in question. Heat fused her face, chasing away the cold from seconds ago.

  “I’m not getting anything. I see impressions but no prints.” Ivan stood. “I’m going to dust the steering wheel and dash as soon as the ME moves the body.”

  Maddie broke her eye contact with Nick. “Okay. We’ll finish up here so they can get in.”

  “I’m going to get the lights and stands. It’s almost dark.” Neal rushed off toward the truck.

  He was right—the sun was barely an orange glow on the horizon.

  She moved with precision, careful not to disturb any possible evidence. She and Eva took samples from the girl’s eyes, nose, mouth, even her ears. They didn’t pause, even when Kurt and Neal turned on the lights, flooding the scene with stark brightness and shadows.

  The darker it became, the lower the temperature dropped. They worked in silence, gathering samples, securing, labeling, and storing. Over and over. Under her tongue. From her lap. From her shoes. Off the steering wheel. Gather, secure, label, and store. They’d be busy once they got it all back to the lab.

  Finally, Maddie stood. Rotated her head slowly, letting her neck pop. She stretched. “I think we’re done.”

  Eva stood and met her gaze over the hood. “Me too.”

  Maddie turned to the ME team waiting. “You can remove the body now.”

  “Thanks.”

  As she carried her case back to the truck, she noticed Nick had already left. Funny how the disappointment settled in her chest. Especially since she’d been the one who hadn’t called. She barely got near the truck when reporters began hollering.

  “Can you confirm this is another young woman stabbed three times in the chest?”

  She ignored them and concentrated on one of her favorite songs. “Well, since my baby left me . . .” Da-da-da-da-da-da-daa . . .

  “Who is the victim?”

  She kept her face down so no one would recognize her from this recent trial, stored her case and samples, then climbed into the passenger’s seat of the truck and checked her watch—six o’clock. She laid her head against the headrest and pulled her cap over her face. It’d been a long, long day, and all she wanted was to crawl into a very hot, very steamy shower, then pour herself into bed.

  “. . . end of lonely street . . .”

  She never could eat after working a scene. Just seemed wrong to do something as mundane as eating when someone else’s life had been cut short. But she couldn’t leave until Ivan, Kurt, and Neal had finished their part. The team didn’t leave until they were all completed.

  “At Heartbreak Hotel.”

  Whoever the first person was who hacked into a police scanner ought to have been tarred and feathered. Maddie closed her eyes against the line of reporters. Her little sister, Riley, was a reporter, but she didn’t hound people. Not like this.

  “You gonna call him?” Eva broke the silence as she slammed the driver’s door.

  Too late to pretend to be dozing. “I don’t know.”

  “You should. He’s interested in you.”

  Maddie lifted the cap and rolled her head to face Eva. “And you know this how?”

  Eva smiled and shrugged. “I just know these things.”

  “Ah, I see.” But he had made a special point to try to carry on a conversation with her. And he’d accepted her lame excuse for not calling him. Did that mean he blew it off because he didn’t care?

  “I’m serious, Maddie. The man’s got eyes for you. Don’t make light of it.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “We’ll see.”

  Eva clucked her tongue and shook her head.

  “What?”

  “You.”

  “What about me?”

  Eva tapped her nails against the steering wheel. “Every time a man shows real interest in you, you find an excuse not to get involved with him. Works too many hours. Doesn’t have ambition. Isn’t a Christian. Doesn’t like Elvis.”

  “Come on, some of that’s bogus.” But some of it, okay, a lot of it, was pretty accurate. Maddie drew in a slow, deliberate breath.

  She stopped tapping and pivoted to stare at Maddie through the dim light reflecting off the hood of the truck from the stands of portable lights. “It’s always something. And I have to wonder. If you aren’t interested in a relationship, why even go through the motions of dating?”

  And like the elephant in the room, there sat the big question.

  Problem was, Maddie had no answer.

  Chapter Four

  “More than anything else, I want the folks back

  at home to think right of me.”

  Elvis Presley

  This part of the job truly was the absolute worst.

  The night stole over Memphis, wrapping her in a cloak of temperatures below freezing. The wind rattled dry leaves across the well-manicured lawn.

  Nick dared a glance at the road while he waited for Timmons to step out of his car, making sure telltale headlights didn’t split the darkness. An eager reporter or two had followed him from the scene, but he’d lost them when he’d gone the roundabout way here.

  Nick sucked in air as he and Timmons made their way past the uniform officer posted outside the front of the Ford home and up the stairs.

  Senator Ford opened the door before he could even knock.

  “Senator.”

  “What have you found out?” The man ushered them inside. “You have to have found something to come out here again so soon. What is it?” Ford’s eyes were red and lined, but wide and focused.

  “May we sit down?” He had a feeling Ford would need something under him when he heard the news.

  With a sigh, the senator led Nick and Timmons into the study and plopped on the same chair as before. “Forgive my manners, Agents, but I’m quite anxious.”

  This was always the hardest. “Senator Ford, I’m sorry.”

  The man’s face went blank. “Gina?”

  Nick nodded. “We found her car just behind the campus.”

  “And Gina?”

  “There was a body of a young woman inside. Identification on the body indicates it’s Gina.”

  “But you aren’t sure? It could be someone else?”

  Every parent was the same: No matter their power or position, they needed to grasp at the last strand of hope dangling. Nick understood that all too well. “We need you to come and identify the body in the morning.”

  Ford shot to his feet. “Now. I’ll come now. If it’s not her, you need to keep looking. Keep searching.”

  Nick and Darren remained seated. Darren cleared his throat. “Sir, they are still processing the scene and collecting forensic evidence. Tomorrow morning would be best.”

  N
ick paused as the senator slumped back to his seat. “I just didn’t want you to hear about this from anyone but us.”

  “T-thank you.” Ford stared at the photos on the mantel, then locked gazes with Nick. “Did you see her?”

  “Not completely.”

  “So you don’t know?”

  “One hundred percent? No, sir. But I don’t want you to get your hopes up that it isn’t her and then it is. Let’s wait until tomorrow.”

  Ford shot to his feet again and paced. “How did she die? This girl? Possibly my Gina?”

  “The medical examiner will put that information into his autopsy report,” Darren said.

  The senator stopped pacing and glared solely at Nick. “Agent Hagar, I want an answer, and I want it now. How did she die? Like that other girl? Stabbed?” The man’s political power returned.

  Nick stood, absorbing the man’s fury. “The victim was stabbed, sir.”

  Ford’s Adam’s apple bobbed once. Twice. He returned to his pacing. “Was she . . . was she . . . had she been raped?”

  “It’s too early to say, sir, but the victim was found fully clothed.” Nick couldn’t even imagine a father’s pain of not only losing his only daughter—his only child, in fact—but to know she’d been so violated . . . No, he couldn’t imagine.

  “This other girl. From last week.” Ford stopped moving and met Nick’s gaze. “Had she been raped?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I wasn’t involved in that case.”

  Ford nodded, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “Are there any suspects in her murder—this other girl? The news says there isn’t, but we both know what’s reported isn’t always the truth.” He took another turn in his pacing path.

  “I can’t say, sir. The investigation is under the TBI, not the FBI, because it’s a homicide and will be prosecuted in state court.”

 

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