Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon

by Carla Cassidy

  They remained locked together, their breathing ragged as faint thunder sounded, indicating that the storm had passed. He finally moved off her and stood. He grabbed his boxers from the floor and stepped into them, then grabbed his shirt and pants, as well.

  “Just think of this as a dream you had,” he said, and then he was gone from the bedroom. A moment later she heard the sound of the door leading to the kitchen open, then close.

  She remained in bed, satiated and drowsy and feeling like it had all been some sort of crazy dream. But the scent of him lingered on her sheets, and her body still retained his imprint.

  Reluctantly she got out of bed, picked up her panties and nightgown from the floor and went into the bathroom. Minutes later she was back in bed, but sleep was the last thing on her mind.

  She’d awakened earlier and felt hungry. She’d been staring at the contents of the refrigerator trying to decide on a late-night snack when he’d appeared, and any appetite she might have had for food had disappeared.

  Her head was filled with Gabriel. Although she had told him she’d pretend they’d never had sex, that this night would mean nothing in the light of dawn, she knew she had lied.

  Although she had no expectations from him, understood that this night would remain just a single night of hot sex in his mind, she would hold it tight in her heart to be remembered whenever she thought about how fragile life could be, how haunted she’d felt when Sam and Daniella and little Macy had disappeared.

  She would retain this memory inside her mind, inside her heart, because being in Gabriel’s arms tonight had made her feel safe and loved, even though she knew it had been a false illusion.

  She awakened before dawn, and after a shower she headed into the kitchen to start the coffee and think about what the men might want for breakfast.

  As she got out the ingredients to make waffles, she consciously shoved thoughts of Gabriel from her head. When the coffee had finished brewing, she poured herself a cup and stood at the kitchen window, watching the sun peek over the horizon.

  There was no sign of the storm that had passed in the middle of the night, just like she knew not to expect Gabriel to even acknowledge that anything had happened between them, either.

  As she sipped the strong brew, her thoughts turned to the people who were missing from the house. She was losing faith in anyone finding them alive, and that lack of faith horrified her.

  Like the men working the case, a deep frustration welled up inside her. Who could have taken the Connellys? Why had they been taken?

  And when was it time for her and Cory to leave here? There was a part of her that wanted to flee the pain of being here, where shadows of the missing danced in every corner, yet there was also a part of her that felt anchored here. She felt like a caretaker who had been given the responsibility for maintaining this place until Daniella returned.

  With each long day that passed, she had a terrible feeling deep in her heart that Daniella was never coming back. She left the window and sat at the table, the last place the family had been before their disappearance.

  She looked up in surprise as Andrew walked into the kitchen carrying a cup of coffee from the pot in the dining room. “You’re an early bird this morning,” she said.

  He grinned and joined her at the table. “I went to bed early last night and slept deep and hard.” He took a sip of his coffee, leaned back in the chair and looked out the window. “It’s so peaceful here. It’s hard to believe that anything bad ever happened.”

  “It’s getting more and more difficult for me to hold on to my faith that they’ll be returned safe and sound,” she replied, the ache in her heart audible in the softness of her voice.

  Andrew gazed at her, his brown eyes soft with sympathy. “I think missing persons cases are the worst. It’s like a state of limbo that never ends. Even if they’re gone for good, it would be nice if we could find them and give everyone who loved them a sense of closure.”

  “I’d rather get my closure by you all finding them alive,” she said.

  He nodded. “That’s what we’d all like to happen.” He frowned thoughtfully. “But I have to be truthful with you—the statistics are working against us with every day that passes and they aren’t found.”

  “I know,” she replied somberly. “I’m making waffles for breakfast this morning,” she said, needing a change of topic. “Do you want me to go ahead and whip up some now, or should we wait until your partners are up and around?” she asked.

  “Jackson was in the shower when I left the room. Who knows when Gabriel will be up. He went into town late last night for some alone time and a few beers. Thank the Lord he isn’t the type to get drunk and do anything stupid,” he said with a wry grin. “That man is definitely all work and no play.”

  Marlena jumped up from the table. “I’ll go ahead and get started on the waffles,” she said.

  Special Agent Gabriel Blankenship was all work and no play, except for last night in a dream that she knew she’d never forget.

  * * *

  GABRIEL WAS IN a foul mood. At the moment he, Andrew and Jackson were headed toward a storage facility where the owner of the property had indicated one of the units was emitting the smell of decomposition.

  But that wasn’t what had him in a foul mood. It was Marlena. Last night, he’d thought that he’d rid himself of whatever it was about her that had him itching with the need to possess her. He’d thought that by taking her he’d be rid of her, that she’d be completely out of his mind.

  The moment he saw her this morning, he knew he’d been wrong. Just watching her serve them waffles had reset what felt like a ticking time bomb inside him.

  Although he’d barely acknowledged her presence, somehow he’d noticed that her peach-colored sundress was cinched at her slender waist, her sandals were gold and she smelled like a bouquet of fresh flowers.

  He now clenched the steering wheel tight, trying to erase the night before from his mind. She’d been more than he’d expected, and he had trouble forgetting the taste of her, the feel of her silky flesh against his.

  “I sure hope this is a wild goose chase,” Jackson said, pulling Gabriel from thoughts of Marlena. “The last thing I want to find is that family rotting away in some storage unit.”

  “That makes three of us,” Andrew said from the backseat. “I feel bad for Marlena. I was having a cup of coffee with her this morning before the two of you got up and we were talking about how these kinds of cases put the people left behind in limbo. As much as I’d hate to find the Connellys dead, at least that would be some closure for the people at the bed-and-breakfast.”

  “We all know they’re probably dead by now,” Jackson said matter-of-factly. “It’s been almost two weeks since they disappeared. There has been no ransom demand to give reason for belief that anyone wants to keep them alive.”

  “Yeah, but the problem is we haven’t been able to find anyone who might want them dead,” Gabriel replied. Although he, too, believed that the family was dead, he wasn’t willing to give up all hope just yet.

  The vehicle was filled with the stale air of frustration that had ridden with them each time they headed into the small town of Bachelor Moon.

  Gabriel had utilized all the tools he had at his disposal to check into Sam’s and Daniella’s backgrounds, to see if a red flag would pop up, but there was nothing. He’d checked with Sam’s director at the Kansas City field office to see if Sam had worked any cases that might have come back to haunt him, but the odds of that were slim considering Sam had been gone from the agency for over two years.

  He’d called his own director this morning to check in and to admit that they still had no clues, no trail, no way to advance the investigation. He’d been hoping that they’d be pulled off the case, that he’d be forced to leave Bachelor Moon and the temptation of Marlena Meyers b
ehind, but that hadn’t happened.

  He’d been instructed to give it more time and continue to seek answers. Gabriel knew he had to forget his preoccupation with Marlena and get back to focusing solely on solving this mystery.

  The storage yard was on the west side of the small town, and as Gabriel pulled up to the tiny building that served as the office, he had a bad feeling in his gut.

  If they found the family dead in one of these tin-box units, he could only hope that the perp had left behind some kind of evidence that they could use to hunt him down.

  If the family had been killed, Gabriel would not only want to find the killer, but he’d also like to know why they were killed. Motives always intrigued him. As far as he was concerned, the intents of criminals were almost as fascinating as the criminals themselves.

  The work was what was important to him, and nothing more. Women came and went, and love was a make-believe emotion that sold Valentine’s Day cards and flowers but had nothing to do with his world.

  The three of them got out of the car and were met by the manager, a tall, thin older man who introduced himself as Burt Buchannan. “I’m normally not here on Sundays, but I decided after church to come in this afternoon and do a little lawn work. I was weed eating around some of the units this morning and noticed the smell.” His long nose wrinkled up as if recalling the foul odor. “I figured you all would want to know who rents it, so I looked it up in my records, and for the past four years, it’s been rented by a Carl Gifford.”

  “We appreciate you calling us so quickly,” Andrew said. “We’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”

  Burt shrugged. “Got nobody at home waiting for me. My wife passed three years ago.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Do you know Mr. Gifford?” Gabriel asked.

  Burt shook his head. “I’ve been working here for over ten years. I had to have met him once when he came in to rent the unit, but I have no real memory of it, and I don’t think I’ve seen him since.”

  “How does he pay his monthly bill?” Jackson asked.

  “It’s an automatic draft from his bank account, so he never has to come into the office.” Burt gestured toward the official entrance to the storage units. “Everyone who rents a unit gets an electronic card that they swipe, and it opens the gate so people can access their units at all times of the day or night.”

  “Do you have keys to all the units?” Jackson asked.

  Burt nodded. “It’s part of the rental agreement that I have a duplicate key to all the units, and no other locks are allowed. You wouldn’t believe how many people don’t pay after the first month or two and leave me with a shed full of crap locked up that has to be taken away.” He pulled a ring filled with keys from his pocket.

  “Let’s take a look at the unit in question,” Gabriel said with a hint of impatience. The sun was hot, he was irritable, and he just wanted to know if the family was here or not. He wanted to solve this case and get the heck out of Dodge.

  He needed to be back in Baton Rouge, where meals came from the closest fast-food restaurant or from a can, not served by a sexy woman he couldn’t get out of his mind. He wanted his own bed, not the one where he could tell she’d plumped his pillow and pulled up his sheets, because the scent of her was everywhere in the room.

  He followed the rest of them through a maze of metal buildings with painted numbers on each one and wondered what was hidden behind the doors, trying to stay focused on the here and now.

  They stopped in front of unit 2137. “This is it,” Burt said. “If you walk around the back, you can really smell it.”

  The three agents walked to the rear entrance of the unit where half the weeds had been cut down, and the smell instantly hit Gabriel.

  “Oh, wow,” Andrew said, and took several steps back from the building as his face turned a faint shade of green.

  Andrew had the biggest appetite and the weakest stomach of anyone Gabriel had ever worked with. He grinned as Andrew worked to keep down the big lunch he’d eaten.

  The smell of decomposition was one you never forgot and would never mistake for anything else. It had a distinctive odor all its own.

  “Something is definitely dead in there,” Jackson drawled. “And whatever it is, it’s been dead for a while.”

  “I doubt that. Decomposition would have happened pretty fast in this tin box in this kind of heat,” Gabriel replied. It would be tragic if they opened the unit only to discover that the family had been killed just a day or so earlier.

  They walked back around to the front where Burt awaited them. “Open it,” Gabriel said, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

  Burt fumbled with the keys, seeming to take forever to finally find the right one. He bent down and unlocked the padlock, removed it and then pulled up the garage-style door.

  A thick cloud of black flies flew out as the afternoon sunshine filled the inside. The smell was nearly overwhelming, and as Jackson and Gabriel moved forward, Andrew and Burt stepped back.

  For a moment Gabriel and Jackson remained frozen in place.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Jackson finally whispered.

  Gabriel stared at the three blood-covered canvases on the concrete floor, each covering something big enough to be a body. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

  He’d hoped it wouldn’t end like this. He didn’t realize until this moment how badly he’d wanted to find the Connellys alive, not just for them, not just for himself but for Marlena, as well.

  “Go get some gloves and booties,” he said to Andrew.

  Andrew ran back to the car to retrieve what was required. Gabriel looked at the rest of the interior of the unit, seeking something that might aid them in an investigation.

  They had one thing in their favor. Even if the name Burt had been given by whomever had rented this place was false, they could follow the money back to the source.

  “Why would a criminal who’s been smart enough not to leave a single clue behind be stupid enough to use an automatic withdrawal from his bank account to pay for this place?” Jackson asked, his thoughts mirroring Gabriel’s.

  “Maybe he figured nobody would ever know the bodies were here. Maybe he was just stupid enough not to realize that Burt might smell something funny out here.”

  “Looks like the only thing in here is whatever is under those canvases and that big dolly.” Jackson pointed to a red dolly standing in a far corner. It had probably been used to cart the bodies into the storage unit.

  By that time Andrew was back. Both Gabriel and Jackson put on the booties and gloves, and then advanced on the first bloody canvas.

  Gabriel had seen a lot of horrible things in his years as an FBI agent, and he’d been desensitized up to a point, but as he approached the corner of the first canvas to see what lay beneath, he prayed the first thing he saw wasn’t little Macy’s face staring sightlessly in death back at him.

  He exchanged a glance with Jackson, who he knew had to be feeling the same emotions that now roiled through him: dread, disappointment and, finally, failure.

  He grabbed the canvas, drew a deep breath and then yanked it back. All the air in his lungs whooshed out of him as he stared at what lay beneath.

  “What in the hell?” Jackson’s voice rang out with anger as the two of them stared at the big dead, decomposing alligator beneath the canvas.

  An overwhelming rage welled up inside Gabriel as he stalked over to the other two forms and threw back the canvases to expose two more decaying alligators.

  “Call Sheriff Thompson,” he said to Burt. “Tell him he’s got a situation out here that needs to be resolved. This isn’t our problem.”

  Gabriel stepped out of the unit, pulled off his gloves and booties and stalked toward the car, aware of Jackson and Andrew hurrying after him.

  Chapter Ei
ght

  That evening Marlena found Gabriel seated on the sofa in the great room, the television turned on, but the volume so low it couldn’t be heard.

  He was half sprawled on the sofa, fingers rubbing back and forth in the center of his forehead. She’d heard about the alligator event and knew that it had been a particularly difficult day for the three agents.

  “Headache?” she asked sympathetically as she walked into the room.

  “A killer,” he admitted.

  “Can I get you something?”

  “It’s just stress. Eventually it will go away.” There was pain in the sound of his deep voice.

  “Sometimes a really good massage helps.” She moved around the sofa to stand behind him and placed her fingers on his temples. “May I?” she asked.

  He dropped his hand to his lap. “Knock yourself out.”

  She moved her fingers lightly at his temples and then began to massage with more force, working across his forehead and then back and around to the base of his skull. His thick, soft hair felt good beneath her fingers, but her desire was strictly focused on easing his pain.

  He began to relax, his shoulders losing their tenseness, his neck moving more freely with her instead of fighting her.

  She didn’t know how long she had massaged Gabriel’s head before Andrew came downstairs. “Hey, I could use one of those,” he said.

  Gabriel stiffened and sat up straighter. She dropped her hands from his head. “Do you have a headache, too?” she asked.

  Andrew cast her one of his easygoing smiles. “Nah. I’ll settle for leftover apple pie from dinner.”

  “In the refrigerator. Feel free to help yourself,” she replied as she walked around the sofa and sat on the opposite end from Gabriel.

  “Better?” she asked the moment Andrew disappeared from the room.

  “Actually, it is a little better. Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.” His dark blue eyes gazed at her with weariness.

  “You were in pain. I wanted to do whatever I could to ease that pain,” she countered.