Strand of Deception

by Robin Caroll

  “Recently?”

  The professor shrugged. “I can’t say.” He shook his head. “I heard about her murder on the news. I’m terribly sorry for her parents. I can’t imagine.”

  “It is a tragedy. About Friday, Ms. Mantle stated she was late to your class. Do you recall that?” Nick noticed the theater-style setup of the classroom. At least one hundred people could fit in the chairs with the small trays attached to them. Just big enough to hold a Netbook or tablet. Different from back in Nick’s college days.

  “I’m sorry, gentlemen, I don’t recall when she came in. I don’t take attendance at the start of class. I’m of the opinion that students pay to attend my class. It’s up to them whether they actually show up or not. If they can turn in the work and pass the class without physically being here, that’s their choice.”

  “You have no way of knowing what time Ms. Mantle arrived in your class then?”

  “Oh, I can tell you exactly what time she came in.” He pulled his laptop to him, clicked his mouse a few times, then typed. “Just a moment.” A few more clicks of the mouse. He leaned forward toward the screen and pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. “Ms. Mantle entered my class at exactly 8:59.”

  “Professor, if you don’t mind my asking, how do you know the exact time of her arrival, especially if you don’t take attendance?”

  Emmel turned his laptop to face them. On screen was what appeared to be a security camera feed, date and time stamped in the bottom right-hand corner, and an image of Cynthia Mantle stepping into the classroom. Her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, with hairs sticking out all over at odd angles.

  “Why? How—?” Timmons started.

  The professor laughed softly. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Agents. I’ve learned students will cheat, even the good ones, if they feel they can get away with it.” He nodded at the laptop. “That’s just my security to ensure those who do, get caught.”

  He pointed at the light fixture over the front of the class. Just on top of the front side, the security camera was barely visible. But you’d have to be looking for it to see it.

  “Slick.” Timmons looked rightly impressed.

  Nick was too. Eight fifty-nine was more than a few minutes late. And plenty of time to kill Gina around eight, clean up, then rush into class almost an hour later.

  “May we get a copy of that?” Nick asked.

  “Sure. Let me screen shot it. Give me a minute.”

  As the professor clicked keys and a hum from the printer filled the silence of the room, Nick’s pulse kicked up a notch.

  Cynthia Mantle’s alibi had just fallen apart.

  Tuesday had brought clear, sunny skies to Memphis but kept her temperatures in the thirties. Beautiful, like an ice queen.

  Maddie stared out the window over her kitchen sink. Eva had come over for an early dinner on their day off, and now Maddie watched the last vestiges of day fade away. Night settled like a welcoming cloak. The moon climbed high, shining bright in defiance of the last two nights.

  Maddie smiled and lifted her oversized mug. Definitely a night for reading the latest in the series from her favorite inspirational mystery author.

  All day, Nick had been on her mind. She’d resisted the urge several times to pick up the phone and call him. He most likely was still hurt by her questioning him. If she could turn back time and take back that one conversation, she would in a heartbeat.

  She closed her eyes. Dear Lord, please help Nick. Help him understand I didn’t mean to be offensive. Guide him as he works this case. I pray You’ll provide him protection. And God, I pray You’ll draw him closer to You during these tough times. Amen.

  She settled on the couch with her book and hot chocolate, the kind made with milk and hazelnut creamer, topped with whipped cream. The taste was worth the eight hundred calories. The local Elvis station played softly in her bedroom down the hall, the beat of the chorus tiptoeing down the hall. Just enough to make her tap her toe, but not clear enough to distract her from reading.

  Maddie flipped the book open to the place held by her bookmark, then took a sip of the hot chocolate. She set the mug down—

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  She knocked the mug to the floor. Chocolate shot across the wood planks while Maddie leapt to her feet. Was that someone at her back door? The fence’s gate was locked. She was sure of that. Positive.

  Brring!

  She jumped, then dove for the phone. “Hello?”

  “Are you alone? All alone?” The man’s gutty voice raised the hair on the back of her neck. She pressed the Off button.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  Maddie ran for the bedroom, her socked feet slipping on the wood floor she’d recently had polished.

  “Let’s rock, everybody, let’s rock,” Elvis jammed from the radio.

  She dialed 911 as she jerked open the nightstand drawer. It took her four times to get a grip through the sweat on her palms.

  “Everybody in the whole cell block . . .”

  “Nine-one-one dispatcher, what is the nature of your emergency?”

  “Was dancin’ to the Jailhouse Rock.”

  Maddie hit the button on the radio, pitching the house into silence. “I think someone’s trying to break into my home.” She grabbed her gun and unsheathed it from the holster with a pounding heart and trembling hands. “I’m a TBI agent and armed.”

  “Ma’am, how is someone trying to break into your home?”

  “I’ve filed a report this past weekend of threatening phone calls. He just called again and asked if I was all alone.” She checked the magazine to make sure it was full and chambered a bullet. “And now someone’s at my back door.”

  “Ma’am, do you know who’s at your back door?”

  “I have a fenced-in backyard that no one should be able to get into. Send a unit and please notify them that I am armed.”

  “Ma’am, I need you to stay on the line with—”

  Creak!

  The loose second stair of the back steps leading to the kitchen!

  Maddie dropped the phone onto the bed. Her heart lodged in the back of her throat. She’d been meaning to ask Darren to fix that loose stair for her.

  She inched into the hall, keeping her back pressed against the wall. She flipped out the lights as she moved toward the back door.

  Past the formal dining room. She hit the switch. The hall plummeted into darkness.

  Slipping past the living room.

  Another light out.

  Into the kitchen. She stayed against the wall and eased herself to the floor.

  The motion-detector lights blazed in the backyard.

  Bam!

  That was against the sliding glass door of the mudroom!

  Screeeech! Bam!

  Little pieces of glass tinned across the ceramic tile of the mudroom.

  Why wasn’t the alarm going off? Oh. She’d forgotten to turn it on after she’d seen Eva out.

  Still crouched, Maddie pivoted on her toes, gun drawn.

  A siren screamed against the silence of the night.

  Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

  Maddie tightened her stance and secured her grip on her handgun.

  The siren shrieked into her driveway.

  The footsteps stopped, then quickened. Growing fainter.

  Her doorbell rang. “Memphis police. Open the door!”

  Maddie let out the breath she’d been holding and tried to stand. Wobbling, she used the wall to climb to standing.

  “Memphis Police Department. Open the door!”

  “I’m coming.” Just as soon as her knees promised to support her.

  The phone’s insistent ringing pulled Nick from his shower. “Hagar.” He dripped all over the rug Mom had sent him fr
om their travels last year.

  “Nick, it’s Darren.”

  Was there a new development? Timmons had met up with the dish installer who set up Ward’s satellite and could only verify he saw Mr. Ward first around ten on Friday morning. Had they heard from Whitlow on Ford’s alibi? “What’s up?”

  “It’s Maddie.”

  Nick’s gut knotted. “What?”

  “Someone broke into her house. She’s pretty sure it was the guy who made the threatening calls.”

  “Is she okay?” He wrapped the robe around him tighter. If something had happened to her, after the way he’d left things . . .

  “She’s fine. Pretty shook up, but okay. The problem is, she doesn’t really want to be alone, but Savannah isn’t feeling well and I don’t want to get her out in this cold. And, of course, Kimi’s already gone home for the day and—”

  “I’ll go. I’ll get dressed and head there now.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, I can go. I can ask my neighbor to come listen for Savannah. Maybe I should just do that.”

  Nick was already heading back into the bathroom to get dressed. “No, you take care of your daughter. I’ll go take care of Maddie.”

  “Uh, Nick . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “She called me, pretty unsteady and not wanting to be a bother. She won’t expect you and might lash out at you when you show up. It won’t be personal. It’s a girl thing.”

  Nick grabbed a pair of jeans from the drawer. “No worries. I got this.” He snatched a pullover as well. “And Timmons?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nick had never dressed so fast and then rushed to his car. The entire drive, he mentally ordered himself to calm down. It would only upset her more for him to charge in and try to order her around. Especially since he’d left things so . . . so . . . awkwardly between them. She might even be furious at him and refuse to let him in.

  Would she?

  No, she wasn’t like that. She wasn’t into head games. He needed to kick off the memory of Joy and concentrate on Maddie. Man, he wished he’d called her back. She hadn’t really accused him of anything. She was only being diligent.

  His anxiety pressed his foot harder on the accelerator.

  Timmons had said she was shaken up. He didn’t say if they caught the guy. Probably not, or Darren would’ve mentioned it. Did he hurt her?

  Nick’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he raced faster.

  For the first time since he could remember, Nick whispered a plea for her safety. To who, he didn’t want to think about, but at that moment, he just wanted someone to watch over Maddie until he could get to her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I have no use for bodyguards, but I have very specific use for two highly trained certified public accountants.”

  Elvis Presley

  “Ms. Baxter?”

  Sitting at her kitchen table, Maddie lifted her gaze to the young Memphis police officer. “Yes?”

  “There’s someone here—”

  “Maddie!” Nick rushed into the room. He sighed visibly as he spied her. “Are you okay?” He moved toward her.

  The fear and exhaustion she’d battled the last hour pushed her to him. His strong arms wrapped around her, giving her the strength she no longer had but so desperately needed. She buried her face in his shoulder. His breath was warm against her skin as he kissed her temple.

  She had no idea how long they stood there, him holding her and her letting him. Comfort and safety rolled off of him and wrapped her in tenderness.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Baxter?”

  She just might have to shoot the cop. Maddie took a step back from Nick, enough to turn and face the officer. “Yes?”

  “A TBI team is here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Maddie, are you o—?” Peter burst into the room, his face pulled in concern. He looked at Nick, then back at her. “I guess you are.”

  Ivan and Neal crowded into the kitchen behind Peter.

  She moved farther away from Nick. “Let’s all sit at the table.” She tugged on Nick’s arm. “I only want to tell the story once.”

  Nick and Peter sat on opposite sides of the table, Ivan dropping in the chair beside Peter, and Neal sitting beside Nick. Maddie sat at the head of table, between Nick and Peter. “I’m fine. Let me start at the beginning.”

  After she’d gone through the night, step-by-step, she could hardly hold her head up, the energy drained from her. Physically. Emotionally. Even spiritually.

  “Dust the whole mudroom glass, Ivan. Neal, search for any evidence in the yard.” Peter barked orders and the team members rushed to obey. This was one of their own. If there was evidence to be found, they’d find it.

  “As per your request, I didn’t call Eva.” Peter ignored Nick.

  “I already checked. Nothing for her to get.”

  “She’ll be furious when she finds out, you know.”

  Maddie grinned. “Yeah, but she’s on a date with a new guy. Don’t wanna mess that up for her.”

  Peter shook his head. “You women.” He stood. “I’m going to talk to the officer in charge. Don’t want to step on any toes.”

  “Thanks, Peter. I appreciate it.”

  He smiled at her, scowled at Nick, then entered the living room.

  She focused on Nick. “Darren called you, didn’t he?”

  He hesitated. “How do you know I don’t have ESP?”

  Tired as she was, Maddie chuckled. “He called you. Outside of the police and my team, Darren’s the only one I called. He shouldn’t have called you.”

  “I asked him to.” His voice was as soft as warm butter.

  So that’s how Nick knew about the phone calls to begin with. “Has he been telling you all my secrets?” She was flirting and she knew it. Didn’t care.

  Nick smiled his perfectly disarming grin. “Oh, you’ll never get me to admit to anything, lady.”

  She arched a brow. “Oh, really?” It was almost a release to flirt and tease. Like an emotional outlet to the punch she’d taken tonight.

  He leaned forward and planted a peck of a kiss on the end of her nose. “That’s a fact, ma’am.”

  That he teased and flirted back and didn’t push to talk about the break-in made her heart even lighter. “Thank you for coming, Nick.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He tucked a curl of her hair behind her ear. The barest of contact, yet heat infused her face. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I was worried about you.” His stare held her hostage in her chair in her own kitchen.

  “Were you?” Why was her heart hiccupping?

  He nodded. “Very.”

  “I’m sorry you were worried.” She had a hard time forming words.

  “Don’t be.” He shook his head, never breaking eye contact with her. “Not your fault. Not at all.”

  No words came to mind. Only his stare. His voice. His presence.

  “Honey, you’re done. Let me take you to your room and get you settled down.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You’re almost asleep on your feet. Please, let me help you.”

  She nodded.

  He stood and moved to her. Slowly, he reached for her. She stood . . . swayed. The room went to spinning.

  Nick scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

  She sighed against him.

  “Uh, which way?”

  She opened her eyes long enough to point in the direction of her room. It was as if her eyes weighed a ton. So. Heavy.

  He carried her down the hall and into her room. She was exhausted from the letdown after the adrenaline rush, but she co
uldn’t even protest when he laid her on her bed, pulled the comforter around her, and smoothed her hair out on the pillow behind her.

  Nick planted the softest kiss on her forehead. “Rest now. I’m going to find the man who broke into your house and make sure he never breaks in to anything ever again.”

  “I need you to pull everything you have on Mark Hubble’s accuser as soon as you get in.” Nick kept his voice low as he spoke into his cell.

  “Of course. How’s Maddie?” Timmons asked.

  “I heard her shower turn on a few minutes ago, so she’s awake.”

  “You’re still there?”

  “I crashed on her couch last night. She was too exhausted to think, much less secure the house after the police left. I couldn’t leave her alone.” And if Timmons didn’t like it, that was just too bad.

  “I see.”

  Nick ignored the sarcasm. “We feel like Hubble’s accuser is somehow connected. Either directly or a family member. Or it might be one of those women’s abuse groups. Whatever, but she was targeted because her testimony set Hubble free.”

  “I’m on it. Uh, I should probably warn you.”

  Anything prefaced like that was never good news. “About?”

  “I talked with Rafe this morning.”

  Oh, great. Maddie’s brother. And his friend. “Why’d you call him?”

  “I didn’t. He called me. To ask me to be his best man.”

  Oh. “Well, congratulations.”

  “Nick, I told him about her break-in.”

  And by the tone of his voice, that wasn’t all he’d told her big brother.

  “He was set to come last night, so I told him she was safe. That you were with her.”

  Nick could just bet how that information relieved Rafe. “What time should I expect him?”

  Timmons gave a nervous laugh. “His flight landed ten minutes ago.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll see you at the office. Look for the connection to Hubble’s accuser.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nick shut the cell as Maddie shuffled into the room. She wore jeans and a sweatshirt and socks. Her hair looked darker than light auburn, still wet from the shower.