Ice (A Chris Matheson Cold Case Mystery Book 1)

by Lauren Carr

  Chris gestured in the direction of Sterling only to find that he was not there. Helen spotted Sterling in a driveway two houses away playing tag with a tea cup chihuahua.

  The sheriff’s face turned red. “You’re calling out the bomb squad based on the word of that… dog?” He spun around to the deputy who was already issuing an order to cancel the bomb squad. With an order to the deputies to contain the crime scene, the sheriff marched up the driveway.

  “You should allow the bomb squad to check it out first,” Chris called to the sheriff. “What if he’s right? You’re putting your deputies in danger. Sterling is a trained law enforcement K-9. He sensed something dangerous inside that house and became hysterical trying to keep us out.”

  With a shake of her head, Helen went to her cruiser and opened the door. Chris followed her.

  “Animals have very acute senses,” he said. “Mom refused to agree to marry Dad until Tipsy, her family’s English Bulldog, gave his blessing.”

  Helen extracted her computer tablet out of her bag. “Maybe he smelled death.”

  Abruptly, they saw a brown and tan streak cross the yard and launched himself several feet from the stoop to tackle Sheriff Bassett as he was about to enter the house. The hundred pounds of fur and claws hit the sheriff in his barrel chest. Both man and dog tumbled over the metal railing and into the bushes lining the front of the neat home.

  Stunned by the attack, the sheriff deputies drew their guns, but before anyone could fire a shot, a blast sent the roof straight up into the air and outward.

  The explosion knocked the officers off their feet. Elliott shielded the injured officer with his body.

  Wood, glass, nails, and plaster rained down on the entire block.

  Chris caught Helen when she lost her footing. Shaken, she allowed him to set her back in the driver’s seat of her SUV. Her voice shook when she said, “Or maybe Sterling smelled explosives.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Her heart racing, Doris hurried through the electronic doors to where Chris, Elliott, and Helen were waiting for word on Sheriff Grant Bassett. Upon seeing her, Sterling sat up from where he had taken up the full length of a sofa and wagged his tail. His law enforcement jacket and the fur on his rump and tail had been singed by the blast.

  “Christopher, are you okay?” She took Chris into her arms. “I came as fast as I could.” She moved on to embrace Helen and kiss her on the cheek. “Thank God all of you are all right.” She hugged Elliott. “To think that you almost got blown up.”

  “It was frightening,” Elliott said. “As a matter of fact, I’m still shaking.” He held out his hand to show his trembling fingers.

  “You poor dear.” She wrapped her arms around him again. Over her shoulder, Elliott shot Chris a wide grin and rolled his eyes with pleasure.

  With a sigh, Chris folded his arms. When Doris tried to pull away, Elliott pulled her back for another hug.

  “I think Elliott’s okay now, Mom.”

  “I can’t believe what’s been happening in this town.” Doris wagged a finger at them. “None of this would be happening if your father was still here.”

  “We’re getting close, Mom,” Chris said. “The fact that someone tried to blow me up means we’re making progress.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that someone trying to kill you is a good thing?”

  “Not exactly in those terms.”

  “In which case are you getting close?” Doris’s eyes were wide. “Sandy? The murdered mobster? Or the serial killer?”

  “Or Felicia Bell’s murder?” Helen nudged Chris and cocked her head to grab his attention.

  Tall in his uniform of deputy sheriff, Rodney Bell strode across the waiting room. The muscles in his mouth fought the smile wanting to cross his face. “Well, well, well. I see the gang’s all here.”

  Flexing the muscles in his injured arm, Rodney glared at Sterling. The dog’s eyes seemed to bore a hole through the deputy sheriff. “I understand the sheriff had a run-in with a certain dog.” His lips curled up in a snarl.

  “If he hadn’t, he’d be dead,” Elliott said. “Sterling warned all of us that there was a bomb in that house. Sheriff Bassett refused to take him seriously—putting himself and his deputies in danger. If Sterling hadn’t stopped Sheriff Bassett, they all would’ve gone up with the house.”

  “You should be thanking Sterling, Rodney,” Doris said.

  Instead, Rodney turned his attention to Helen. “Sinclair wants a status report on your team’s investigation into Felicia’s murder. So do I.”

  “You?” Chris said.

  “Sheriff Bassett is going to be out of commission for a few days, at least,” Rodney said. “That means I’m in charge. I briefed Victor Sinclair on Opie Fletcher having the means, the motive—”

  “What motive?” Chris asked.

  “He’s unstable,” Rodney said. “He’s been saying for years that he killed Mona Tabler—even gave himself a maniac’s name.”

  “He didn’t—” Afraid of saying too much, Chris stopped.

  “Opie also doesn’t have an alibi,” Rodney said. “He killed Felicia the same way he killed Mona Tabler.” He stepped forward to glare into Chris’s eyes. “Kirk Matheson dropped the ball when he didn’t arrest Opie for Mona’s murder. Because of his incompetence, my wife is now dead.”

  “Kirk was not incompetent!” Doris stepped forward only to have Elliott hold her back.

  Rodney held Chris’s gaze. “Victor Sinclair and I want Opie Fletcher locked up before he kills someone else’s wife.” He cast a glance in Helen’s direction. “Who knows? Maybe Helen will be next.”

  “My forensics people have to finish processing the evidence,” Helen said.

  “Then lean on them to get it done,” Rodney said. “Once you get the paperwork together, Victor will issue an arrest warrant.”

  “The state police does not take orders from the county sheriff department.”

  “But we do have to watch out for each other.” Rodney lowered his voice. “If the state police won’t watch my back, then my deputies may decide not to watch yours.”

  “Is that a threat?” Helen asked.

  “It’s reality.” A slim smile crossed Rodney’s lips. He dragged his gaze to Chris. “Victor Sinclair and I also had a conversation about you.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  “I have a feeling that the sheriff’s department is going to close two murder cases that fell through the cracks during Kirk Matheson’s watch.”

  “And I feel your mother turning over in her grave,” Doris said. “Her prayer was that you’d be nothing like your father. There is a theory that evil can be hereditary. You’re proof of that, Rodney.”

  With a hiss, Rodney turned in her direction only to find himself face to face with Elliott. “You want a piece of the lady, you’re going to have to go through me.” Not only did he struggle to keep Rodney away from Doris, but Elliott also had to hold Doris back.

  Abruptly, Sterling jumped off the sofa and wedged himself in between Rodney and Elliott, his lips pulled back in a snarl. His fur was straight on end.

  “You’ll have to go through Sterling, too,” Helen said. “Care for a rematch?”

  Chris stepped in front of Sterling. His face was inches from Rodney’s. Their eyes locked in a glare. The silent message between them was loud and clear.

  Everyone held their breath—wondering who would throw the first punch and when.

  Rodney stepped back. He raised his arm to check the time on the black rectangular monitor he had strapped around his wrist. “As much as I’d like to go a few rounds with you for old time’s sake, Chris, I have a meeting with my deputies—rally the troops—you know.” He winked at them. “Maybe next time.”

  With that, he stuck a toothpick between his teeth, turned on his heel, and sauntered away. Together, they
watched Rodney exit the medical center and cross the parking lot.

  He had driven away in his cruiser before Helen broke the silence. “He totally did it. He killed Felicia. That’s why he had Mona Tabler’s case file. He saw that Opie was a suspect and set him up to take the fall.”

  “He won’t get away with it,” Chris said.

  “He’s got Victor Sinclair on his side,” Helen said. “I bet Rod called him as soon as he got word that Bassett was in the hospital.”

  “And in exchange for Sinclair pressing charges against Opie Fletcher, Rodney is going to railroad Christopher into jail for Sandy Lipton’s murder,” Doris said.

  Chris ushered Elliott aside. “I thought Bruce had Sinclair under control.”

  “He talked to the old man. Maybe Victor didn’t get the text telling him to back off if he knew what was good for him.”

  “Does Rodney know about us exhuming Tamara Wilcox’s body on Monday?” Chris asked Helen.

  “Only one I talked to about that is the state’s forensics pathologist to arrange for her receiving the body and doing the examination,” Helen said. “Once she does the identification, she’ll send the report back to me. Since the church is exhuming the bodies voluntarily, there’s no need to have the county sheriff’s department involved.”

  “How about the county prosecutor? Victor Sinclair?” Elliott asked.

  Helen shook her head. “I contact him after I get the pathologist’s report.”

  “Which leaves both Rodney and Victor out of the loop,” Chris said.

  “Good,” Doris said. “Let’s leave it that way.”

  “Peyton Davenport is in a meeting!” The secretary jumped from her desk and tried to block Helen and Chris’s path to the vice president’s office.

  “She most certainly is. She’s meeting with us.” Chris dodged her to throw open the door and charged inside.

  They stopped when they discovered two men sitting in the lounging area with Peyton. The shorter of the two men rose to his feet—ready to do verbal battle.

  Seeing the two well-dressed men, exuding wealth and power from their pores, Chris was struck with a sense of déjà vu. During his career as a federal agent, he had tangled with many well-heeled adversaries.

  But these two were different. He had encountered them twenty-four years earlier on the day he had confronted Sandy Lipton.

  “Chris, I thought our date wasn’t until later.” Peyton looped her arm through his.

  “Date?” The man with the slicked-back hair shot a glance at his client seated in the wing-backed chair at the head of the sitting area.

  “Unlike you, Steve, I do have a life.” Peyton gazed up at Chris as if he were a prized possession that she couldn’t wait to show off.

  “Steve Sinclair,” Helen whispered to Chris. “Victor’s father.”

  Peyton turned to the man in the wing-backed chair, who had locked eyes with Chris. “Daddy, this is—”

  “Chris Matheson,” Steve Sinclair finished with displeasure. “Kirk’s son. You remember Kirk Matheson, don’t you, Peyton? State police captain.” He chuckled. “You really know how to pick them.”

  “Steve Sinclair.” Chris held out his hand to the attorney. “We finally get to meet formally. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Steve clasped Chris’s hand. “I’m sure your father had a lot to say about me.”

  “Not just him. We have another mutual acquaintance.” Chris allowed a broad grin to cross his face. “Bruce Harris. Retired attorney general from Virginia.”

  The drop of Bruce’s name had the desired effect. Steve’s face grew pale. With a glare, he yanked his hand away from Chris’s.

  The man Chris remembered hiding in the Lipton kitchen, Mason Davenport rose from the chair and crossed the room to clasp hands with him. “Are you still with the FBI, son?” In contrast to his lawyer, he gave Chris a pleasant smile.

  “Retired, sir.” Helen’s hand on his arm reminding him of her presence, Chris introduced the lieutenant from the homicide division of the state police.

  “I sense this is not a social visit,” Mason said, “even if you do have a date with my daughter.”

  “It’s business,” Helen said. “Rachel Pine and Seth Greene, two Stardust employees, have been murdered.”

  Peyton covered her mouth with a gasp.

  Mason Davenport turned around and stared out the window.

  “Murdered?” Steve Sinclair asked. “Surely, you don’t think anyone here at the Stardust has anything to do with that. They must have gotten mixed up with something outside the casino.”

  Careful to not divulge too much information about their investigation, Helen said, “They were persons of interest in a murder case.”

  Chris realized Peyton was no longer at his side. He turned around to see that she had gone to her father and placed her hand on his shoulder. He pulled away from her touch and fired off a glare before moving around the desk to rejoin them.

  “Do you have any suspects?” Steve Sinclair was asking Helen.

  “A witness told us that a woman going by the name of Josie was seen with the victim of the case we were investigating,” Chris told Mason. “A redhead.”

  Chris saw a flicker of recognition in the executive’s eyes. They flicked in Peyton’s direction.

  “Are you aware of anyone named Josie?” Helen asked.

  “Possibly an employee here at the casino.”

  “We have no employees that I’m aware of named Josie,” Peyton said. “I had my assistant check with HR when you asked me about that earlier, Chris.”

  “Sir?” Chris asked Mason. “We believe she may have been friends with Rachel Pine, your director of cybersecurity.”

  “I knew Rachel,” Mason said. “She and Peyton went to school in Morgantown together.”

  “Yes, she was a very good friend.” Peyton sniffed.

  “Peyton has lost many good friends throughout the years,” Mason said in a low voice.

  Wrapping her arms around her father, Peyton buried her face into his chest. Mason stiffened at her touch. When he noticed Chris watching them, Mason returned the hug.

  “Well,” Steve said, “we thank you for coming to give us this information. If we come up with anything to help you in your investigation, we will be sure to contact you.”

  As Steve ushered them out, Peyton pulled away from her father to catch up to Chris before he left. “I’ll see you at six. You won’t forget, will you, Chris?”

  “No, of course not. How could I?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “That’s two.” Chris tossed the broken security camera from its perch in an apple tree to Nikki below.

  Seated on her roan mare named KitKat, she caught the camera and stuffed it in her saddlebag with another broken camera. “That must have been some power outage to have fried our security system.”

  Chris pointed at a new utility pole further up the service road. “We’re lucky it’s only two cameras and a couple of monitors. When I was in school, that transformer blew and the power surge took out our well pump. We didn’t have electricity for a week and we had to get a new pump.”

  Chris began to climb down from the tree only to stop when Nikki broke into giggles. He peered through the branches and found Sterling balancing on a thick branch beneath him. “How did you get up here?” He asked Nikki, “Did you help him?”

  “Dad, I haven’t gotten down from KitKat. He climbed up there himself.”

  Sterling barked at Chris as if to order him to hurry.

  “Hold your horses. I’m coming down.” Chris muttered.

  Sterling leapt to the ground and circled the trunk while watching Chris’s descent.

  “What are we going to do for a security system until you replace the cameras?” Nikki asked.

  “Same thing as regular folks.” Chris jumped down to
the ground. “Trust that no one’s going to come after us.” He picked up Traveler’s reins. “We’ve got our no trespassing signs telling folks that we have recorded surveillance. That’s enough to deter most people. If no one knows the cameras are broken, we should be fine.”

  He climbed up into the saddle. Once he was settled in his seat, he flashed a broad smile at his middle daughter. “Race you back to the barn.”

  “You’re on!” Nikki urged KitKat into a full gallop.

  “Are you really going to give Sierra horseback riding lessons, Dad?” Nikki asked while the two of them brushed the two horses after they had finished their ride.

  Chris had forgotten about his promise to give riding lessons to Sierra. So much had happened that day, that morning seemed like days ago. After confirming that he was, Chris led Traveler into his stall. “She’s coming back out tonight to hang out with you while we all go to Nonni’s dinner dance.”

  Nikki stopped brushing her horse and placed her hand on her hip. The pose combined with the arch of her eyebrow and the tilt of her head was strikingly like that of her grandmother. “Are you dating Sierra’s mom?”

  “We’re working on a case together.” He closed the stall door. “Actually, several cases.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be retired?” She led her horse into the stall and closed the door.

  Chris escaped the need to answer her question when he heard a car engine. As he had expected, it was Helen and Sierra. “Sierra’s here.”

  Nikki joined him at the open barn door. “And so’s her mom.” She looked up at him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Yes, I did. I’m going to start giving Sierra horseback riding lessons tomorrow. You can help if you want.”

  “I mean about you and her mom dating. We took a vote.”

  “A vote? About what?”

  “About you dating Sierra’s mom, and we decided that we’re okay with it. We like Sierra.”

  “How about her mom?”

  “Thor loves her, but she loves anyone who’ll give her a carrot. Mocha’s on board. Sadie hasn’t made up her mind yet. She’s tough. Sadie, not Ms. Clarke. Sadie has to do a little more research before she makes up her mind.”