Deadly Touch

by Heather Graham

  “Why do you look worried?” she asked him.

  He shook his head. “I’m not worried. I’m good friends with my Glock, and we have Titan.”

  “Do you think someone might really try to get to me? Why?” Raina asked. “I’m not a cop. I don’t know anything.”

  “There’s no reason. Unless someone else somehow knows you tried on a dress and found the body of a murder victim.”

  “Only my brother and the cops I saw that morning. None of whom seemed to believe me.”

  “You don’t think Robert would have talked about it, do you?”

  “My brother? No, that man is careful when he talks about the weather. He’s an attorney to the nth letter of the law. Not to mention the fact most people would feel the way the cops did that morning. That I either killed poor Jennifer or know who did.”

  “Okay, then.”

  He walked toward her and took her into his arms.

  “Where were we?”

  She smiled as he kissed her, pulling back a little. “Well, I like where we were, and we’ll get back to it. But let me reward Titan.”

  “Good plan. That is one great dog.”

  She stepped past him, hurrying to the kitchen to get one of Titan’s favorite biscuits from a cupboard. She brought it back to the hallway and got him settled again.

  Then she returned to the bedroom.

  Axel was stretched back out on the bed, naked. His flesh was bronze against the pale blue of her sheets, caught in just a hint of the moonlight filtering in the edges of the drapes.

  He leaned on an elbow, grinning as he waited for her.

  “Well, that’s cheesecake if I’ve ever seen it!” she told him.

  “What!”

  She lifted the ribbons on her dress, letting it drift to the floor.

  “Well, now. That’s straight out of a James Bond movie or the like,” he told her.

  “And your problem is? I like cheesecake.”

  “And I’ve been fond of every Bond girl. You getting back in here?”

  “Of course. I’d never waste all that cheesecake!”

  She made a flying leap for the bed and landed in his arms. They rolled, laughing, and then the laughter faded as he looked into her eyes, and his next kiss was very passionate, leading to much, much more.

  She slept in his arms, and she thought she slept deeply. When she awoke, he was awake, and she felt he had slept, too.

  But maybe not quite so deeply. He had been listening. Listening all through the night.

  “Do you have work today?” he asked her.

  “I do, but my schedule is easy, and I can switch anything around if necessary,” Raina told him.

  “Switch things around. Come with me to Andrew’s.”

  “Okay. Is there a reason I shouldn’t work?”

  “No. I’m just happier if you’re with me. And I want to chat with Jeremy. Maybe we’ll take the horses over to the tourist area. It will be fun. Andrew will appreciate it.”

  “Okay.”

  “You can see Big Ole Mac.”

  “Okay. Alligator wrestling,” she said. “Are you going to wrestle Big Ole Mac?”

  “Not in this lifetime. Wait till you see him.”

  She smiled. “I have seen him. I’ve gone out there many times during the years.”

  “Good. You enjoy it?”

  “I do.”

  “We’ll stop by the hotel on the way. I can shower there.”

  “You can shower here.”

  “That might take too long.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “You’d be too tempted. You’d come in.”

  “Wow. What humility!”

  He glanced at his watch. “Okay, why not.”

  He headed for the shower. For a minute, she had decided not to follow him, but then she grinned and did so, pushing him aside as she entered.

  “I told you,” he said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just trying to save time.”

  “I see.”

  “Want your back washed?”

  “Are you trying to wash it?”

  “I really can’t stand a dirty back.”

  He turned. She used liquid soap on his back, caressing it as she did. She smiled as he turned around, slick and clean, and drew her into his arms.

  “I didn’t mean to be so time-consuming,” she whispered.

  He laughed softly.

  “Time is what we make of it,” he assured her.

  Moments later, she thought he had a talent for making really good use of time.

  * * *

  “It’s her,” Andrew said, quiet and thoughtful as he shook his head.

  Raina and Titan were out with the horses. She couldn’t resist seeing them first. Either Axel would head out soon or she’d come in. One way or the other, he did want to ride out to the village. He was pretty sure he’d find Jeremy out there, and Jeremy might remember what had gone on in the past better than he did, if nothing else.

  “They’re still out there looking for more pieces. But thankfully, with the skull, they were able to match dental records through the cold-case department almost immediately,” Andrew said.

  “But still no cause of death, right?”

  Andrew shook his head. “You think it will be the same, though, don’t you. Okay, I understand, but it’s crazy. I mean, just taking people and quickly severing their throats? That doesn’t sound like any serial killer I’ve ever heard of. I know you’re FBI and went through all kinds of classes, but I’ve been to a few myself even if I am just tribal police.”

  “There’s no ‘just,’ Andrew, and you know it,” Axel said, shaking his head. “Seriously, think about it. Serial killers—drawn by sex. Or Dahmer—a cannibal. John Wayne Gacy—sexual assault, torture and murder. Son of Sam—told to shoot people by a dog. These killings have nothing in common. The victims have nothing in common and most likely never saw one another or frequented the same place.”

  “Well, Fran Castle didn’t frequent the club we went to last night. It didn’t exist back when she was murdered.”

  “No. Oh, and I got a call from Larry Stillwater. Don’t know who he talked to at the fundraiser, but he said there had been some incidents up in their area you should know about.”

  “Oh?”

  “No skulls, nothing so telling. But a few years back, some tourists found a bone. Everyone up there was in on it, but they never found anything other than the one bone. Two years before that, a necropsy was done on an old alligator that bit the dust.”

  “And?”

  “They found human remains. Too digested for DNA or anything, really. But Larry thinks someone has used the Everglades—and Seminole tribal land—for some dumping, too.”

  Andrew had sheets out on the table. Axel looked at them, feeling his frustration grow.

  “Five—counting Fran Castle way back. More with the bones. But then we have Hermione Shore, a young widow. Rich, but from all accounts kind and generous and well-liked. Peter Scarborough, separated, but his wife was in another state and he was a working stiff, a carpenter. No reason to hire a killer to get rid of him that we know of. We have Alina Fairchild, early thirties. Four women, one man. And as best we can tell, they were all killed quickly and cleanly and dumped.”

  “We don’t know yet about Fran Castle,” Andrew reminded him.

  “I’m willing to bet we find out she died by having her throat slit. With any luck, the crew out there will find more bones.”

  Andrew was silent. “You seem to suspect some of Raina’s friends.”

  “I’m not sure how they could be involved. When Fran Castle was killed, you and I were barely eighteen and Raina couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen at the time. That means her friends were all kids back then, too. But...”
/>   His voice trailed.

  “Yeah?”

  “The chaperones. Frank Peters and Loretta Oster. They were here then, and they’re still around now.”

  “They were at the campsite the night Fran Castle disappeared.”

  “We don’t know when she disappeared. We just know when it was reported she’d disappeared. Vinnie Magruder might know more.”

  “He was first on call. The detective on the case was a man named Hank Upton. He died of cancer about three years ago. Until he got sick, he’d come out now and then. The case frustrated the hell out of him.”

  “Maybe Vinnie remembers something. I’m going to talk to him, see if he can give me anything at all. Anyway, I’m off to see Jeremy. I want to know what he remembers.”

  “You driving over?”

  “Taking your horses, if that’s okay.”

  “Yeah, sure. The horses will be happy. I’ll head back out on patrol for a while and meet you over there. You’ll ride by the area where they’re still digging. Maybe they’ve found something more.”

  “Maybe.” Axel hesitated and pulled out his phone and called Angela.

  “There’s must be something,” he told her, looking at Andrew as he spoke. “Something in common between these people, our victims. Hermione Shore, Peter Scarborough, Alina Fairchild and Fran Castle, and Jennifer Lowry. Angela, please, pull up everything. Reports from friends, social media, phone records—anything at all you can get. I can’t help feeling if I could find the common ground, I’d find the killer.”

  Andrew nodded as he watched the call. Angela assured Axel she hadn’t stopped searching and their best techs were on it.

  When he hung up, he frowned.

  “What?” Andrew asked.

  “Scarborough’s wife.”

  “Yeah, no money involved. They’d been split up.”

  “I still want to know more about her.”

  “You’re thinking murder for hire again?”

  “Well, why else would victims be so random, and it’s as if they’re being executed. As you said, these killings aren’t typical serial killer. So random—so quick. Kidnapping. No ransom asked ever. Just a swift death.”

  He pulled out his phone again and put another call through to Angela. Scarborough’s wife had been eliminated because she had an alibi.

  In most murder cases, the wife, husband or lover fell under immediate scrutiny. And the police had looked at her first. Witnesses verified the fact she’d never left her state.

  But you didn’t need to be in the same state to hire a killer.

  “Angela,” he said when she answered. She amazed him; there were so many agents in the field, all needing her help. But she could switch cases at the speed of lightning. She was extraordinary.

  “Yes? I don’t have anything new yet. You’ve only given me four minutes.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. But what do we have on Peter Scarborough’s wife? Of all the victims, he was the only one married, though separated.”

  Angela swiftly drew up her information on the woman.

  “Scarborough’s wife—Melissa, forty-eight, works at a pack-and-ship place. Two grown children living in California. Her children were from a previous marriage. Peter had no heirs other than Melissa, but he left nothing. She ordered his apartment cleared out with everything being given to the Salvation Army. His bank accounts covered a cremation for him.”

  “Well, no one killed him for his money. See if you can find out how and why they split up, huh?”

  “I will.”

  “Thank you.”

  He hung up again.

  “Maybe, just maybe, Jeremy knows something I can pull from him.” He hesitated, thinking of the strange way Jordan Rivera had behaved the night before.

  Stricken.

  Not like a killer.

  And still, so strange.

  “Jeremy was setting up camp for the schoolkids and at the camp all day, from what I remember. I wasn’t there, but—” Andrew stopped.

  “I was. And yes, he was there all day.”

  “Then?”

  “Gotta do something. Keep people talking.” Axel stood, ready to join Raina outside.

  “If nothing else...”

  “If nothing else?”

  “You can pay your respects to Big Ole Mac.”

  Twelve

  The head of the team digging and searching the area for more bones was Dr. Jinny Carlysle. She was about fifty with gray hair that curled tightly to her head. She had the look of someone who was both competent and determined.

  Even as Raina and Axel approached the site on horseback, she was out in the road, waving at them, warning them to stay off the path and the area where she had set stakes out for her digging purposes.

  She introduced herself quickly. She was working with a team of five—two people from the county forensics lab and two grad students from the University of Miami—and she introduced them all in a whirl, explaining she was both a medical examiner and an anthropologist, and thus had been put in charge.

  She nodded gravely at Raina, hearing she had been the one to happen upon the skull.

  And though Axel had used his first name with her, she preferred to keep referring to him as “Special Agent Tiger.”

  “Anything else?” Axel asked.

  She nodded grimly. “So far? Three rib bones. I’m afraid the skeleton was compromised by scavengers and whatever else. I believe we’ll find most of the bones, though. Other than those bones that might have been picked up by birds and scattered. I understand we have an ID on our victim from dental records, a poor young woman who went missing a little over thirteen years ago.”

  “Yes,” Axel said. “Is there damage to the bones you’ve discovered so far?”

  “Sure,” Dr. Carlysle said. “You don’t stay out here for thirteen years without damage being done. Predators of all kinds, scavengers...”

  “I’m looking for possible cause of death,” Axel said.

  But Dr. Carlysle shook her head. “I don’t know yet. I haven’t found anything that resembles a knife wound. Most of the damage I’ve found so far has come from a predatory cat and insects and worms. But we have a long way to go.”

  Axel thanked her.

  Dr. Carlysle looked at Raina. She nodded her approval. “You found a skull and you’re back out here. Good for you.”

  Raina gave her a grim smile. “When you find a skull, Dr. Carlysle, you want the truth.”

  Carlysle nodded her approval again. “We’ll be doing our best to give you the truth.” She looked at Axel. “And we hope you, sir, can find the truth.” She was quiet a minute. “I know I can’t ask you about the ongoing investigation, but it’s hard not to wonder about the murders in the Everglades over the last few years, and now this.”

  “Of course,” Axel said.

  “Are you getting anywhere? At least the last victim was found right away.”

  “We like to believe we are.” Raina watched as his head cast at a slight angle as he looked at the older woman.

  “Dr. Carlysle, did you know any of the victims?”

  “I did,” she said quietly. “A man named Peter Scarborough. We were often in the same coffee shop.”

  “In South Miami?” Axel asked her a little sharply.

  But she shook her head. “No, down by the Jackson hospital. He was doing some work there. My lab is there. And the morgue.”

  “I would like to speak with you about him, if I may?”

  “It will be my pleasure,” she assured him. She lifted gloved hands covered in mud and muck. “Later? Officer Osceola has offered us his home as a rest stop. I’m assuming you came from his house?”

  “We did. We’ll see you there later, then,” Axel told her.

  They skirted the area, riding on by. The workers all stopped for a minute to wav
e them on. When they were past them, Raina asked, “If she was a friend of Peter Scarborough’s, wouldn’t the police have interviewed her already?”

  “They might have. But there wouldn’t be much. Not if you just talked to a casual friend. She wouldn’t have appeared on any kind of a ‘person of interest’ list, I don’t believe. Think about it—the number of people the average person might see on any given day. In a big city at least. You might see the same clerk at a grocery store and chat with them often or the same folks in line at a coffee shop. Questioning anyone and everyone a person might see is exhausting and never complete. I don’t know if she can help us or not. The first hours when a person is discovered missing or dead are always the most important. But when that fails, you have to dig a lot further. On this, following the trail of Jennifer Lowry was most important. Now, we have to look more fully at all of the victims,” Axel said.

  “And we’re going to the village because...?”

  “Because I haven’t been there yet, and I want to talk to Jeremy.”

  “You don’t think that Jeremy—”

  “No. I don’t,” he said.

  She fell silent for a minute, aware he thought someone they knew was involved in some way. But she couldn’t believe her friends were involved.

  “My group—we were all just kids when Fran Castle disappeared.”

  “I know.”

  “Jordan behaved strangely, but he was truly stricken when he learned Jennifer Lowry had been killed.”

  “I know.”

  She fell silent again; he didn’t appear to be in the mood to talk.

  The trail, she thought as they rode, was beautiful. In a strange way, of course. The trail itself followed spits of hardwood plateaus, while around them there was water, the eternally moving “river of grass” that made up the Everglades. There were birds in every color as they moved along—cranes, egrets, owls, hawks, and they came across one great blue heron, dead still and standing on one leg in the water as he eyed his terrain, awaiting a meal.

  At one point, they passed a few adolescent alligators basking on the embankment.