Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon

by Carla Cassidy

  Marlena appeared in the doorway to the dining room and Gabriel was shocked by how the mere sight of her shot pleasure through him.

  “Pot roast,” she said. “And it’s ready whenever you men want to eat.”

  “Now,” Andrew said. “We’re definitely ready now. They forced me to eat a sandwich from a convenience store for lunch.”

  Marlena laughed. “Oh, my gosh, that’s a fate worse than death.”

  The sound of her laughter stirred a well of warmth inside Gabriel’s stomach. She was a vision in pink, clad in a sundress that exposed slightly freckled slender shoulders and long bare legs.

  “Give us fifteen minutes,” he said and instantly turned to go upstairs. He’d scarcely gotten in the door and already felt as if he needed to distance himself from her.

  Something must have been in that pond water he’d swallowed last night when he’d pulled her from its depths, for he’d had trouble keeping her out of his head all day long.

  He dropped his laptop on the bed, went directly into the bathroom and sluiced cool water on his face. He had to remember that he didn’t know Marlena, except that she had a slamming-hot body and the face of an angel.

  But he had to stay focused on the fact that she might have something to do with what had happened to the family. He didn’t know if she’d somehow manufactured a fall into the pond to complicate what was already a difficult case with few leads.

  Finally, he wasn’t sure that he believed that anyone could have slept through whatever had happened on the night the Connelly family disappeared. That overturned chair indicated that they hadn’t left the kitchen in utter silence.

  Minutes later he joined his partners at the dining room table, where Marlena served them pot roast and vegetables, hot rolls and a salad. He was grateful that she didn’t sit with them, but instead she disappeared back into the kitchen.

  After dinner, Gabriel returned to his room and powered up his laptop, intending to do some background checks on all the players they’d encountered so far.

  He felt as if they were no closer to having any answers than they’d been when they’d first arrived two days ago. He hated having to check in with his director and letting him know they were still clueless as to what had happened to the three people who had seemingly led a happy life here.

  He gathered information and took notes, and as always, lost track of place and time as he worked. He was a man who’d always been most comfortable at work, hunting criminals and delving into the darkness of sick minds.

  Maybe it was because his childhood had been a dark and frightening place, so hunting killers and cuddling up to violence felt familiar to him.

  He finally closed his computer and stretched his arms overhead to work out the kinks in his shoulders. He was shocked to look at the clock and realize it was almost one in the morning.

  What time had Sam, Daniella and Macy decided to have milk and cookies in the kitchen on Thursday night? He knew it had been after eight in the evening, but surely it would have been earlier than this considering Macy was only seven.

  And Marlena had heard nothing.

  He should go to bed. It was late, and his mind was going into strange territory. He eyed the bed, knowing that morning was going to come far too early for him.

  Still, instead of heading for bed, he quietly opened his bedroom door. From the room next door he could hear the chorus of snores coming from Jackson and Andrew’s room.

  He crept down the stairs, the house silent around him. It’s a crazy idea, he thought. Yet there was really only one way to prove just how soundly Marlena slept, and even though he felt a little foolish, he realized this was something he had to do for himself. He had to know.

  The kitchen was lit with a small night-light plugged into an outlet next to the stove, giving him enough illumination to see that Marlena’s door was closed, as he assumed it had been on the night the Connelly family had disappeared.

  What he was about to do could in no way be considered an official experiment where results could be used in any way, except for as an answer to a question in his own mind. It was strictly curiosity that drove him.

  He pulled out a chair from the table and pushed it so that it toppled to the floor. Then he went to the back door, unlocked it and opened it and then slammed it shut and locked it. Either noise should have awakened the woman sleeping in the next rooms, but minutes passed and she didn’t fly out of her bedroom to see what was happening.

  Maybe she was awake and afraid to come out of her rooms, he thought. He walked over to her door and tried the knob, surprised when it turned easily beneath his hand.

  He opened the door to the darkness of her sitting room, although he saw the faint glow of another night-light coming from her bedroom.

  Was she playing possum? Had she heard the noise in the kitchen and recognized what he was doing? Had she heard the sound of Sam’s family being kidnapped and been too afraid to rush to help?

  With quiet stealth he moved through her sitting room and stood in her bedroom doorway. She was on her side, curled up beneath the sheet. The sound of her deep, even breathing let him know she was truly asleep, that the noise he had created in the kitchen hadn’t awakened her.

  He should turn and leave, but instead found himself inching forward, closer to the bed. His fingers itched with the desire just to stroke softly down the side of her face, to tangle in her soft-looking curls.

  As he reached the side of her bed, he wondered whether, if he pressed his lips to hers, she would awaken, like a princess responding to the kiss of her prince.

  He stumbled, the ridiculous thought startling him. He backed out of her bedroom and from her apartment area. Closing the door softly behind him, he uprighted the chair he’d cast to the floor and hurried up the stairs to his bedroom.

  Shutting his door, he slumped down on the bed and shook his head to dispel all thoughts of Marlena. But the action didn’t work. She’d been wearing a pastel-pink nightgown, and the fragrant scent of her had filled the air. Her features had been soft and dreamy in sleep.

  Why was he thinking of her as a princess and he the prince who would kiss her? He sure as hell wasn’t a prince. He knew what he was—a cold man who expected no kindness, a dysfunctional man who had no desire to attempt to love anyone.

  He was an FBI agent on a job and Marlena was nothing to him but a bit of fluffy distraction. If she wasn’t part of this case, he’d take her to bed, satisfy the lust that ate at him and then be rid of her.

  He had a family to find, a mystery to solve, and no matter the depth of his physical attraction to Marlena, he had no intention of following through on it. He just had to keep his distance from her. If he needed more information from her about the family or anything else, he’d let Jackson take over the interviewing process.

  Gabriel couldn’t afford to delude himself into thinking he was anyone’s hero, anyone’s prince. He knew the truth about himself: he had no heart and very little soul, and he’d do well to remember that.

  Chapter Five

  Marlena sat on the front porch, nursing a glass of iced tea and watching John and Cory work in the distance in the yard. She had spent part of the day making beds and dusting. Pamela would be in the next day to change the bedding and dust and vacuum the entire house.

  Marlena hadn’t made dinner tonight. She’d gotten a call from Gabriel earlier telling her the men wouldn’t be home until late this evening and would eat out.

  She hoped to talk to him about Thomas Brady when Gabriel returned, even though there was no possible way she could believe the affable carpenter could have anything to do with whatever had happened to the Connellys.

  She’d wanted to talk to Gabriel yesterday, but he’d made himself scarce after dinner and had stayed in his room for the remainder of the night.

  She took a sip of her tea and thou
ght about the woman who would be here in the morning to clean. Pamela was usually cool and unfriendly, speaking to Marlena only when necessary and barely hiding her resentment. Marlena had learned to basically ignore the dark-haired woman and her nasty attitude.

  She knew that Pamela and Daniella had been close, especially before Marlena had arrived back in town. She also knew that Pamela saw her as an interloper who had stepped into the position of manager that Pamela had assumed would eventually be hers.

  Marlena had tried to be amiable with Pamela in the first couple months after Marlena had arrived here, but when her friendly overtures had been met with disdain, she’d given up.

  She now waved to Cory as he looked toward the porch, and he waved back. Her heart swelled with love for her brother. Oh, there were days she wanted to knock him in the head, but he was basically a good kid at heart.

  Where was little Macy with her diva attitude and silly antics? Where were Sam and Daniella? Marlena’s heart ached with their absence with an all-encompassing fear for them.

  Sunset had just begun to splash gorgeous colors across the sky when Gabriel pulled up and parked. She could tell by the body language of all three men that it had been a frustrating day for them.

  Jackson and Andrew nodded to her and went inside, but as Gabriel followed she halted him by calling his name. “Could I talk to you for a minute?” she asked and gestured to the wicker chair close to hers.

  He frowned as if he found her request unpleasant, but sank into the chair with a weary sigh. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I thought of somebody else you might want to check out,” she said.

  He sat up straighter in the chair, the tired lines on his face seeming to magically disappear. “Who?”

  Marlena hesitated a moment, wondering if she was creating problems for a man who’d done absolutely nothing wrong. “His name is Thomas Brady.”

  “And what exactly does he have to do with the bed-and-breakfast or Sam and Daniella?”

  “Actually not much. It’s more that he has something to do with me.”

  Gabriel’s eyes darkened. “What do you mean?”

  “Why don’t I get you some lemonade, and then I’ll explain.” As he nodded his assent, she jumped out of her chair and hurried inside. She poured him a tall glass of the cold liquid and told herself that she was doing the right thing by mentioning Thomas. The last thing she wanted was to be responsible for not giving them information that might prove valuable.

  When she returned to the porch, she handed him the drink and then returned to her chair, aware of him watching her intently as the purple shadows of twilight began to fall.

  “Thomas Brady is a local carpenter who has made it clear that he wants to have a romantic relationship with me. We went out a couple of times, but for me the relationship has never been anything but a friendship. But Thomas has been persistent, and he believes we belong together.”

  In the deepening shadows Gabriel’s features looked sharper, a little bit dangerous. “So what could your relationship with Thomas have to do with the Connellys’ disappearance?”

  Marlena paused to take a sip of her lemonade. She set the glass on the wicker table between them and released a sigh. “Sam and Daniella don’t like Thomas, and they’ve made their feelings toward him fairly clear. They don’t think he’s good enough for me. They don’t want to see us together as a couple. They’ve always been cool to Thomas when he’s come here to visit with me.”

  She frowned and looked out to where John and Cory were loading up their gardening tools into a wheelbarrow. “Thomas stopped by yesterday, and we visited for a little while. He was more at ease than he’d ever been, with Sam and Daniella not around.” She shrugged. “He suggested it would be safer for me if I moved in with him. I just thought you should maybe check him out. He was supposedly out of town working on a deck in New Orleans when the family disappeared.”

  “I will check him out,” Gabriel replied. He took a drink of his lemonade and leaned back in the chair, looking nothing if not exhausted.

  “Bad day?” she asked sympathetically.

  “Bad case,” he replied. He looked out to where John and Cory headed to the gardening shed. They stopped suddenly, and John grabbed a hoe and began to smack the ground.

  “What’s he doing?” Gabriel asked.

  “Must have stumbled across another snake. We have a nest of rattlesnakes and way too many cottonmouths on the grounds, and John is our official snake killer. Cory would rather try to catch them. He loves snakes and reptiles, but John has a healthy fear of them and always cuts off their heads.”

  They both watched as John picked up on the hoe what was obviously now a dead snake and tossed it into the wheelbarrow.

  “I hate snakes,” Gabriel admitted. “I’d rather face a perp with a gun than stumble on a snake.”

  She released a small laugh. “I’d rather not face either of those situations.”

  “Your brother seems like a good kid.”

  “He’s a pretty normal kid. And by that I mean one day I want to kiss him to death and the next day I want to wring his neck,” she admitted and was rewarded with a brief smile from Gabriel. “What about you? What kind of a kid were you when you were around Cory’s age?”

  “Tough. I was basically living on the streets, working at a fast-food joint to get by.”

  “Where were your parents?” she asked.

  His features took on a dark and dangerous mask. “My mother took off for parts unknown when I was seven, leaving me in the custody of the meanest bastard in the state of Mississippi—my father. I lived in constant fear of him from the time my mother left until I left home at sixteen.”

  He paused and took another sip of his lemonade. “That’s why I had my window open the other night, because from the time I was a little kid, I had to have an escape route from my old man.” He was silent for a moment and then jerked, as if pulling his thoughts back to the present.

  “After I left home, for the next couple of years I did whatever I needed to do to survive on my own.”

  “So how did you wind up as an FBI agent?” What she wanted to say was that she was sorry for what he’d gone through with his father, that her heart ached for the little boy he had been, but she knew he’d hate her for going there.

  “A street cop got friendly with me and encouraged me to finish school, get into college, and that’s when the FBI tapped me on the shoulder. And here I am, working on the right side of the law.”

  “Funny, we have similar backgrounds. I think I mentioned before that my mother took off when Cory was young. The truth of the matter is she discovered she loved drugs more than she loved her husband and her kids. Cory was about four when my father told her she had to leave. She came around a couple more times after that looking for money, and when my father refused to give her any, she finally disappeared for good.”

  She picked up her glass and finished the last of her lemonade. “One of the final times she came to the house, I remember she hugged me and told me how much she loved me and then asked me for my allowance. I was so mad at her that I told her I never wanted to see her again, and I didn’t. My dad tried to hold it together, but when Cory was thirteen, he died of a heart attack.”

  Her whole body ached as she remembered those moments when her mother had held her close, stroking her hair and telling her how much she loved her. She had so wanted to believe, had needed to believe that her mother had changed and their family would be put back together. When her mother had asked for Marlena’s allowance money, it had irrevocably broken any mother-daughter bond that might have survived.

  “I guess we both got tough breaks,” he said. His features were no longer visible in the darkness that had finally claimed the area.

  For a few minutes they sat in silence, and Marlena wondered what he was thinking. What sca
rs had been left behind by his mother’s absence and father’s brutality? By life itself?

  “You think they’re dead, don’t you?” she asked. It had been a question that had tormented her since the morning she’d awakened to find Sam, Daniella and Macy gone; a question she’d been afraid to ask until this very moment.

  “It’s possible that they’re still alive. We can always hope for the best,” he answered after a long hesitation.

  She was grateful that it was dark enough that she couldn’t see his features, for she heard the lie in his voice but was glad she didn’t have to see it in his eyes.

  Minutes later, after he’d gone inside, Marlena remained in the chair, watching the fireflies begin to take over the area. Tears blurred her vision as she remembered Macy chasing the flashing bugs and her squeals of delight when she managed to capture one in a jar.

  How Marlena wished Macy was out there now, chasing fireflies, her laughter filling the air. How she wished Daniella and Sam were sitting on the porch with her, enjoying the last of the evening before bedtime.

  As the sound of bullfrogs rose in the air, a shiver swept up her spine as she thought of her plunge into the pond. She no longer knew if she’d really been pushed or had stumbled and fallen off the path and into the lake. It all felt like a bad dream now, unclear and fuzzy.

  But the night air suddenly felt fraught with danger, and she quickly jumped up from her chair and went inside, even knowing that for Sam and Daniella and little Macy, the house hadn’t been a safe haven.

  * * *

  SUNDAY EVENING GABRIEL told his two agents to take the next day off. Their Sunday had been a long one, and he felt as if they all needed a little downtime to clear their heads.

  On Monday morning, Gabriel was still in bed when Jackson and Andrew knocked on his door and asked if he wanted to go with them for breakfast at a café in town. He declined, but as he went downstairs to the dining room and heard Marlena humming from the kitchen, he was sorry he hadn’t gone with his two partners.

  As he poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot in the dining room, he realized he liked the sound of her humming. It was an unfamiliar but pleasant feminine noise he’d never enjoyed before.