Читать книгу Scene of the Crime: Black Creek - Carla Cassidy - Страница 10
ОглавлениеChapter Two
He was late.
Cassie checked her watch for the third time in the past ten minutes. She really wasn’t surprised. Mick was the kind of man who would be late for his own funeral.
The last time she’d worked with him his tardiness had definitely been an issue that had driven her half-insane. He’d come in sleep-eyed and tousle-haired for morning meetings and had often drifted in late to noontime briefings.
Cassie was always early. She considered it the height of rudeness to keep people waiting, but apparently Mick was cut from a different cloth than she’d been.
She impatiently tapped her foot against the pavement of the FBI building parking lot. It already was beginning to heat up beneath the mid-July sunshine.
If they were going to meet with Sheriff Lambert in Cobb’s Corners at two, then they didn’t have a lot of time to waste this morning. It was a full six-hour drive to their destination.
The smell of the heating asphalt shot a faint memory through her head, a childhood memory of standing on a hot sidewalk while her parents begged people walking by for spare change.
She shook her head to dispel the painful, shameful memory. She tried never to think of those years of her youth. They brought with them only the tight press of anxiety in her chest and bad dreams at night.
As she checked her watch once again she heard the sound of Mick’s little red sports car roaring into the parking lot. A moment later he parked next to her four-door sedan and got out of the driver’s seat.
“Good grief, Cassie, you look like you’re going to a funeral rather than on a honeymoon,” he exclaimed.
Cassie looked down at her casual black slacks and the crisp white short-sleeved blouse she wore and then back at him in his khaki shorts and wildly flower-printed shirt. “Excuse me for not meeting your questionable standards,” she said coolly. “I’ve never been on a honeymoon before.”
He grinned at her and then reached into the backseat of his car and withdrew a large duffel bag. “Don’t worry about it, when we get to town I’ll help you do a little shopping.”
She stared at him in horror, her mind instantly filled with a vision of herself in Daisy Duke shorts and see-through blouses. Shopping with Mick McCane? She didn’t think so, at least not in this lifetime.
He dropped the duffel next to where she’d parked her medium-size suitcase and smaller overnight bag. “Have you been inside? Do we need to check in or anything?”
“I already did.” She held up her left hand that now sported a diamond wedding band.
“Wow, looks like I’ve got good taste. Wheels?”
She pointed to a nearby navy blue sedan and held up a key. “The paperwork has been done. It’s registered to Mick and Cassie Crawford from Kansas City.”
“Great, let’s load up and hit the road.”
They stored their luggage in the trunk and then she slid into the passenger seat as he took the wheel. She was instantly conscious of the scent of his cologne, that spicy scent that evoked memories of twisted sheets and hot kisses and sinful caresses that had driven her out of her mind.
“You’ve got your new identification?” he asked as they both buckled their seat belts and he backed out of the parking space.
“In my wallet,” she replied, thankful that he’d broken the unwanted direction of her thoughts.
“I’ve got identification and a credit card to use for everything,” he said. “I guess we need to come up with a backstory for ourselves.” He turned out of the parking lot and onto a street that would eventually carry them out of Kansas City and toward Arkansas.
“If we’re on our honeymoon, then I guess we just got married yesterday?”
“Sounds good to me. Most people get married on Sundays, but we decided to have a Monday evening ceremony because we like to be different.” He flashed her a quick glance. “Well, if anyone presses the issue we can say I like to be different and I pressured you in to a Monday marriage.”
“I suppose you want to tell people we met rollerblading on the moon,” she said dryly.
He laughed. He had a nice laugh, deep and robust, not that it mattered to her. “Actually, I figured we’d tell people we were introduced by mutual friends.”
For the first time since she’d gotten into the car Cassie began to relax. “Okay, that sounds good. How long did we date before you popped the question?”
“Six months, and then we had a small, intimate ceremony with just friends and family.”
“Six months?” She frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a very long courtship.”
Once again he gifted her with his confident, charming smile. “I know a good thing when I find it, so I didn’t waste any time when it came to putting a ring on it.”
Cassie started to protest, but instead clamped her mouth firmly closed. What difference did it make what they told anyone who asked? The people in Black Creek were strangers and she and Mick were simply there to do a job. Once that job was done she’d never see any of those people again.
And she had to focus strictly on the work. She couldn’t be distracted by the fact that from the moment she’d first met him almost a year ago something about Mick had made her breath catch just a bit in her chest.
“Fine, you moved fast and I fell for your charm,” she finally said.
His grin grew downright cheeky. “So, you admit it, you do find me charming.”
“Stuff it, McCane,” she retorted irritably. She’d known this was going to be difficult. They were scarcely out of the city limits and already she wanted to jump out of the car and leave him behind.
He seemed to sense that he might have pushed her far enough. He repositioned his hands on the steering wheel and stared out the front window. “The cover story is that I’m a carpenter and work for a big remodeling company and you’re a receptionist in a dental office.”
“Okay, that sounds fine. Did you read the files?”
“Yeah, I was up most of the night looking at them.”
“What were your first impressions?” Cassie asked, even more comfortable as the conversation turned to murder. She didn’t want to think about what that said about her social skills or lack thereof.
“Confusing. We know the motive isn’t sexual because the women weren’t raped or didn’t appear to be molested in any way. We also know there was no robbery involved because nothing appeared to be stolen from the rooms or the victims. The men still had their wallets and cash in their pockets and the women still had on their wedding rings. So, right now the motive is up for grabs.”
It was always more difficult to solve crimes when the motive wasn’t obvious, Cassie thought. “A silencer had to have been used when the men were shot. Otherwise somebody in the area would have heard the gunshot, and according to everything I read nobody in the cabins nearby heard anything.”
She smoothed a hand down her slacks, grateful for the cool air that blew through the vents. He was right, she should have dressed even more casually, at least worn a pair of shorts instead of the long slacks.
“What I wasn’t able to figure out by reading the reports and looking at the crime-scene photos is who the real victims were in each case. Both husband and wife were killed, but in two different ways, one shot, one stabbed. Which one was the primary target?”
“If we had a motive we might have a better answer to that question. Maybe it’s possible they both were the primary targets,” she replied. “Hopefully we’ll learn more from Sheriff Lambert when we get to Cobb’s Corners.”
“What I don’t get is how the perp managed to get the woman trussed up with duct tape on the bed and control the man at the same time.” He frowned, the gesture doing nothing to detract from his handsome features.
“He had a gun. That’s a definite control mechanism.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But you’d think if a man came into your cabin brandishing a gun, somebody would yell or scream and yet the people in the cabins on either side indicated they’d heard nothing when the murders were taking place.”
“There was no sign of forced entry into either of the cabins.”
“All that means is either the doors were unlocked or they opened the door to the killer. Maybe they knew him, maybe they didn’t. Then there’s the possibility that it wasn’t one man working alone. There’s no way to know that at this time.” He cast her a quick glance. “Where do you work, Mrs. Crawford?”
“I work for Dr. Davidson, a dentist in Kansas City,” she replied without hesitation. “Do you think you need to test me?”
“Just checking.”
They fell silent as the wheels of the car continued to thrum against the highway, clipping off the miles that would take them to the small town where four tragic murders had occurred.
Cassie stared out the passenger window, her thoughts occupied with the files she’d read the night before. Director Forbes had been right. She and Mick fit the profile of the victims to perfection.
Jim Armond and Bill Tanner had both been physically fit, dark-haired young men with sculpted handsome features. There was no question that Mick looked a lot like the two dead men.
Susie Armond and Jennifer Tanner had both been pretty blonde, petite women with blue eyes. They hadn’t looked so pretty after having been bound up on the beds and stabbed.
Cassie reached up and touched a strand of her blond hair and then twisted the unfamiliar wedding ring on her finger. There was no question that she could pass for one of the dead women’s sisters. She hoped the team that had been assigned to watch Mick and her cabin was on top of its game.
She’d never done anything like this before. She’d never gone undercover and certainly not in a situation where she looked like a potential victim.
She glanced over at Mick. “Have you done this sort of thing before? You know, been undercover?”
“Several times. The longest was for four months when I went undercover as a homeless man to find a killer targeting that group of people. What about you?”
“No, I’ve never been undercover,” she replied.
“It’s like being an actor or an actress. You take on the role of the person you’re playing and you eat, sleep and drink it. Are you nervous?”
Cassie hesitated a moment and then finally replied, “Maybe a little bit.”
He nodded, as if satisfied with her reply. “You should be. You have to remember that this isn’t the case of if you don’t play your role right you get fired. This is a role that if you don’t do it right you could either get one of us or somebody else killed. You should be nervous. I’m just hoping you’re up for this challenge.”
“Don’t you worry about me. I’m definitely up for the challenge,” she replied as a new surge of irritation swept through her. Was he questioning her capabilities? She was a trained agent and she knew exactly what was at stake. The last thing she intended to do was screw things up.
* * *
THE CLOSER THEY GOT to Cobb’s Corner, the tighter the anxiety in Mick’s stomach twisted. Initially he’d been disappointed when he’d pulled up and he’d seen Cassie standing in the parking lot as if at attention. She’d looked tense and was dressed like she was going off to take notes at a business meeting.
She would have to work a little harder to take on the persona of a young, beautiful bride on her honeymoon. Most people considered their honeymoons one of the happiest times in their marriages. He wouldn’t know about that, since he’d never married.
He just hoped she was up to the challenge. And this case was definitely going to be a challenge. They had to consciously attempt to catch the attention of a killer or killers.
Physically they both looked the part, but nobody knew for sure exactly what had drawn the killer to those particular couples besides their outward appearances. Had the couples offended somebody in town? Was it possible their physical appearance was just a coincidence and had nothing to do with why they’d been chosen for death?
So many questions, and he hoped that Sheriff Edward Lambert would be able to give them more clarity on the matter. He also hoped the Dew Drop Café served good food. They’d made no stops along the way, it was well after noon, and he was starving.
They’d spoken very little on the trip, other than the first flurry of conversation. Cassie appeared to be one of the most self-contained women he’d ever met. Unlike his sisters, she apparently didn’t feel the need to fill every silence with idle chatter. He liked that about her.
She was hot and quiet, definitely his kind of woman, but he knew better than to go there again. He couldn’t forget the utter contempt she’d shown him after their one night together.
Besides, she possessed other qualities that he knew would make him crazy in a short period of time. He had a feeling she was not only tightly controlled, but also controlling.
Around the office she had the reputation for being Ice Queen material. She didn’t have drinks or meals with other agents. In fact, she didn’t socialize at all with any coworkers.
She was always up for overtime, indicating she had no social life at all and didn’t seem to be looking for a relationship of any kind with any member of the opposite sex despite the fact that he knew she’d just turned thirty years old.
It had been Mick’s experience that most women had a little wedding-bell alarm that rang in their heads by their thirtieth birthday, but Cassie didn’t appear to be the norm. She didn’t seem to possess the desperate “I’m thirty and not married” madness.
“You hungry?” he now asked, breaking the long silence of the trip as they reached the outskirts of the small town of Cobb’s Corners.
“Starving,” she replied, and then pointed out the window to the left. “There it is.”
The Dew Drop Café had a red awning announcing the establishment. It didn’t appear too busy at this time of day and Mick pulled into a parking space directly in front.
“I’m not sure what I’m more eager for, information on the crimes or a big juicy cheeseburger,” he said as he turned off the car engine.
“I definitely know what I’m eager for. Information that will let us get this job done quickly and successfully.” She opened her car door and got out.
Mick did the same, the humid July heat slapping him in the face like a spurned lover. He was grateful for the dorky tourist shirt he wore. At least it was lightweight and breathed.
The Dew Drop Café was less charming inside than it had looked on the outside. The interior paint was old and peeling, the red bar stools sported rips, and the red vinyl booths also showed signs of wear and tear. Even though there were half a dozen people inside it was easy to spot Sheriff Edward Lambert, despite the fact that he wasn’t in uniform.
The older man, with a shock of white hair, sat at the back of the restaurant facing the door, intelligent brown eyes taking in everything and everyone in the room. Those eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of Mick and Cassie.
They approached his table, introductions were made, orders were taken by a waitress and then Cassie excused herself for the restroom.
“Ambience stinks but the food is great,” he said.
“That’s good to know,” Mick replied.
“I wanted to meet you two here instead of someplace in Black Creek so that we can keep this whole operation under wraps,” Lambert said as he wrapped big hands around the coffee mug in front of him. “Even though we’re a tourist trap and are still fighting over what the name of the town is eventually going to be, we’re also a small town where secrets are sometimes hard to keep. This whole thing won’t work if word gets out that the two of you are FBI agents.”
Mick nodded. “I completely agree.” The two men small-talked about the drive and the hot weather and by that time Cassie returned to the table.
“There’s no question that the two of you make the perfect bait physically,” Lambert said.
“Have you figured out if the killer’s trigger is something more than physical appearance?” Cassie asked as she reached out to align the salt and pepper shakers next to each other in the center of the table.
“Nothing so far. What we have learned is that the two couples pretty much followed the same kind of schedules while they were in town. I’ve got a list of places they visited and activities they did. I’ll give you each a copy before we leave here.”
“I read in the file that Jim Armond was an insurance salesman from Oklahoma, and Bill Tanner was a mechanic from Missouri. Any indication that the couples knew each other?” Cassie asked.
“None,” Sheriff Lambert replied. “At least none that we’ve been able to find so far. I’ve got a six-man force, all good men who have been working overtime to figure this out.” He stopped talking as the waitress appeared with their orders.
The decor inside the café might be questionable, but Mick eyed the thick cheeseburger and order of fries in front of him with appreciation. Cassie had ordered a salad, dressing on the side and Ed Lambert had ordered a piece of pie to go along with his coffee.
“I’ve got to admit that I’m understaffed and pretty much over my head with these murders,” the sheriff continued as the waitress moved away from the table. “I’ve been understaffed for the last couple of years as the town has gained more of a reputation as a hot spot for honeymooning couples.” He frowned. “When Mayor John Jamison got his bright idea about this Honeymoon Haven nonsense he turned our quaint little town into a mess.”
He paused and took a sip of his coffee. “There’s plenty of money flying around town, but none of it has allowed me to hire on more deputies and the petty crime rate has tripled.”
“Sounds tough,” Mick said.
The older man shrugged. “We do the best we can, but I want to assure you these murders are on the top of our priority list. Unfortunately, they aren’t the only things we can focus on with all my manpower. Your boss has assigned another couple to help with the investigation. They’ll be staying at the Super Eight Motel just north of town. Director Forbes indicated they would be your contact if you stumble across any information that might be useful.”
“Their names?” Mick asked.
“Agents Rick Burgess and David Ellsworth. They’ll be working with me and my team, but flying under the radar. The mayor is insistent that we keep this all as low-key as possible. Needless to say, we’re not eager for any publicity concerning the murders.”
Mick nodded. He was glad to know there were two agents working with the sheriff. He knew both agents, had worked cases with them before and trusted them. He had cell phone numbers for both of them and would check in with them once he and Cassie got settled in town.
“Your tech support team arrived this morning,” Ed continued. “Three men checked into the cabin next to yours. They let me know that they had their audio in place and were ready for your arrival.”
“Audio?” Cassie looked from the sheriff to Mick, who shrugged.
“According to the agent I spoke to early this morning they have placed listening devices in the room where you’ll be staying. They’ll be able to hear anything that happens, but also told me to let you know they didn’t bug the bathroom.”
Mick smiled at Cassie. “That means if you decide to verbally abuse me it will be all over headquarters before the day is over.”
“I have no intention of verbally abusing you,” she replied with a flash of her brilliant blue eyes. “Unless you need it,” she added under her breath.
Sheriff Lambert cleared his throat. “The good news is that if somehow, someway, the killer gets into your premises, your agents will hear everything that is going on and can get inside within seconds.”
Cassie’s eyes turned somber and Mick wondered if she’d really considered how badly this assignment could go. They were intentionally putting themselves in the direct path of a killer or killers. If the killer did manage to get into their room it would only take him seconds to shoot Mick and stab Cassie.
What Mick had no intention of telling her was that while he was being hunted, he intended to do a little hunting of his own. Although their job was merely to act the part of newlyweds, to draw the attention of the killer and allow their support team to make an arrest, Mick would investigate independently to find the killer. Even knowing Burgess and Ellsworth were assigned to the case wouldn’t stop him from working on his own.
He wasn’t about to get trapped in a honeymoon cabin with a killer and depend on a team to rescue him. He’d find the killer long before the game went on that long.
He’d only been blindsided once in his life, and that had been by a woman with blue eyes and a dark soul. He’d never let a woman close to him again, and he wasn’t about to allow a killer to get the upper hand on him either.