Читать книгу Scene of the Crime: Bachelor Moon - Carla Cassidy - Страница 9

Sam fished through the lunch hour. He had a couple of bites but never landed a single fish. It didn’t matter. As the day wore on and the peaceful silence of his surroundings seeped through him he began to relax in a way he hadn’t done in years.

Not once did the details of a case enter his mind. Not once did he think about any of the killers he’d hunted and caught in his career. He just breathed in the air, napped for a few minutes and relaxed.

By four o’clock the late July sun was at its hottest, and he decided to call it a day and head inside to his room. He stored his fishing pole and tackle box in the trunk of his car and went into the house.

He saw nobody as he climbed the stairs to his room, but the air was redolent with the scent of cooking, and he immediately thought of the woman who would be his landlord for the next two weeks.

He certainly wouldn’t be averse to a little vacation romance as long as she was willing and able and understood the meaning of temporary. It was the only kind of relationship he had—hot and very, very temporary.

Minutes later he stood beneath a shower, grateful that the water pressure was good and the water steamy hot. He hoped the food was as good as it smelled. He regretted missing lunch because now he was starving.

Once he was out of the shower he dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a short-sleeved, light blue, button-up shirt, then stood at the window in his room and stared outside.

Today had been surprisingly pleasant, and he reluctantly admitted that maybe he had needed a vacation after all. He couldn’t remember when he’d taken any time off work over the last five or six years.

He was about to walk out of his room and head down to the dining area when his cell phone rang. A glance at the caller ID let him know it was Special Agent Jenna Taylor.

“Is this my favorite prince of darkness?” she asked when he answered.

“Hey, Jenna, what’s going on?” he asked, as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you arrived at your vacation paradise okay.”

Six profilers worked out of the Kansas City FBI offices. Misunderstood by most civilians, branded as renegades within their department, they were a tight group with a bond that went beyond their jobs.

All of them were single, but when Jenna had traveled to Bridgewater, Texas, to investigate the murder of her best friend, she’d fallen for the local sheriff and was now in the process of transferring from the office in Kansas City to one in Texas.

“I’m here and have spent the day sitting in a chair with a fishing pole in my hand,” he replied.

“Good for you. You need this, Sam. You were on your way to falling so far into the darkness that nobody could have pulled you out.”

“Whatever,” he replied, already faintly irritated by the conversation.

“Seriously, Sam. You need balance in your life. You’ve got to get some good in with the bad, and it wouldn’t hurt if you’d find a nice woman to spend time with.”

“You know how I feel about that, so don’t even get me started,” he replied. “I like being alone and I intend to stay that way.”

“I know, but as someone who has just found the love of my life I wish all my friends could feel the same kind of happiness that I have.”

Sam sighed. Former smokers and the newly in love, they could both be irritating with their need to reform the entire world. The two talked for another few minutes and then ended the call.

As he walked downstairs to find the evening meal, he shoved thoughts of Jenna from his mind. He was going to miss working with her, but he was glad that she’d apparently found her soul mate.

Despite the fact that he’d found her attractive and had enjoyed working with her, there had never been any sparks between them. They had simply been coworkers who had become close friends.

All thoughts of Jenna left his mind as he entered the dining room to find two men already there. One of them stood near a sideboard pouring himself a cup of coffee from the urn on top, and the other was already seated at the table.

The man at the table stood as Sam entered the room. “You must be the new guest. I’m Matt Rader, a fellow guest of this great place.” He held out his hand to Sam.

“Sam Connelly,” Sam replied, as he shook Matt’s hand.

“I’m Frank, the handyman and gardener and general jack-of-all-trades,” the other man replied. “I saw you out on the dock earlier. Did you have any luck?”

“A few nibbles, nothing more.” Sam sat in one of the empty seats at the large table, assuming there was no seating assignment.

Frank took a seat opposite Sam. He was an older man—Sam guessed he was in his late forties—and he had the weathered features of a man who spent a lot of time outside. “You here on business or pleasure?”

“Strictly pleasure,” Sam replied. “I’m on a two-week vacation and looking forward to doing nothing more strenuous than fishing.”

For the next few minutes the men talked about the fishing in the area and the hot weather. Sam was grateful that neither man asked him what he did for a living.

It had been his experience that people did one of two things when they learned he was an FBI agent. They either got paranoid and distant or they glommed onto him with endless, mostly stupid questions.

The superficial conversation was just beginning to wind down when another man arrived. He was a hand some blond with brown eyes, and he introduced himself as Jeff Tyson, a family friend of Daniella’s.

It was obvious the minute Daniella bustled into the room carrying a large bowl of jambalaya that Jeff wouldn’t mind being more than a family friend to Daniella. He immediately leaped forward to take the bowl from her, and from the expression on his face Sam knew the man was in love with her.

As Sam saw her a slight sizzle again went through him. Her gaze met his and a hint of color crept into her cheeks. Did she feel it, too? The crazy tug of physical attraction? Maybe her cheeks were just flushed from cooking, he thought as she disappeared back into the kitchen. Or maybe there was something more going on between her and Jeff than just friendship.

She returned a moment later with a pan of corn bread and a bowl of salad. “I have fresh peach cobbler for dessert,” she said. “Enjoy your meal.”

The food was terrific and the conversation flowed easily between the three men. Sam ate and only half-listened as his thoughts returned to the woman who had served them.

Apparently Daniella and her daughter didn’t share their meals with the guests. As the owner of a bed-and-breakfast, Daniella had certainly set herself up for a demanding life, and she was a single parent to boot.

He had a feeling beneath the sexy package there had to be some major inner strength. It was Sam’s experience that divorcees reacted to their life experiences in two ways: either they were eager to get married again and try for the happily-ever-after they’d been deprived of in their first marriage, or they turned their back on the very idea of a second marriage.

There was a small part of him that hoped she fell into the second category, that she was ripe for a very brief, very physical relationship with no emotional attachment, and that she and Jeff truly were just old friends with nothing else going on between them.

He frowned irritably, wondering why he suddenly had sex on the mind. He knew part of the problem was that he’d been so long without it. It had been eight months since he’d been with a woman, part of a fling with a career-minded woman he saw on an irregular basis.

Ramona Welch lived in Topeka and occasionally traveled to Kansas City for business. Whenever she was in town she’d call Sam and they hooked up for the night. There were no expectations between them and definitely no love.

He was grateful when the meal had ended and he escaped to his room after telling the others good-night. He was tired after the long drive that morning and the previous night of little sleep.

After pulling down the pretty green bedspread he stretched out on the bed and considered turning on the television, but decided instead to just enjoy the silence.

There had been little silence in his life or in his head in the last seven years since he’d become a profiler at the age of twenty-eight. His head had been filled with the voices of victims and the whispers of killers, and now, with no pending case to think about, he relished the blessed silence. As much as he hated to admit it, his boss had been right. He’d needed some time away from his job.

He must have drifted off to sleep, for a soft knock on his door awakened him. Instantly he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Yes?” he called.

The door creaked open and Macy peered in. “Can I ask you something?”

He got up from the bed and met her at the door. “What’s that?”

“You got any kids?”

“No. Why?”

She shrugged. “Just wondering, that’s all. My daddy got lost when I was a baby.”

“He got lost?” What did that mean?

Macy nodded. “Mommy told me she looked and looked for him, but we never could find him.”

It sounded like a case of abandonment. Despite the hard shell he always kept around his heart he felt a tiny crack as he gazed into Macy’s childish eyes.

“Since we can’t find him I’m kind of looking for a new daddy.”

Before Sam could reply a scream ripped through the air. Sam instantly recognized it as Daniella and without thought he scooped Macy up in his arms and took the stairs two at a time.

He found her in the kitchen. She stood at the back door, her face white as horror radiated from her eyes. The sight of Macy seemed to center her as she stepped away from the door and some of the color flooded back into her cheeks.

“Macy, go to your room and get ready for bed. I’ll be in to kiss you good-night in just a few minutes.” Despite the fact that she appeared more calm, Sam heard the tremble in her voice.

Sam placed Macy on the floor. “Why did you scream?” she asked her mother.

“It’s nothing, honey. Go on and get your pajamas on and don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

The minute the child disappeared through a doorway at the back of the kitchen, the horror once again filled Daniella’s blue eyes. “Out there…oh, God, she’s dead.”

Sam stepped out the back door, where the bright porch light illuminated half the yard. The first thing he saw was a trash bag lying on the ground about ten yards from a large Dumpster. The second was the body propped against the base of a large tree.

He sucked in his breath as he went closer to investigate. It was obvious she was dead. A wood-handled knife protruded from the center of her chest, and her brown eyes were frozen open as if in startled response.

She’d been pretty in life. Her dark hair shone with a rich luster, and her features were dainty and attractive. She was clad in a navy sundress and matching sandals, and Sam instantly ruled out robbery, for her diamond rings were still on her fingers.

He took a step closer, although not so close that he might contaminate the scene. The dried blood around the wound indicated to him that she’d been dead for a while. No blood in the general area led him to believe this was just the dump site, not the scene of the murder.

The grass around where she sat looked undisturbed, with nothing out of place to capture his attention. No gum wrapper, no cigarette butt, nothing that could supply a clue as to who was responsible.

Not your scene, a little voice whispered in his head. This isn’t your problem. You’re on vacation. He backed away. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved. He was simply a guest here; there was absolutely no reason for him to get involved in this crime.

As he turned and saw Daniella silhouetted in the doorway, he hoped to hell he could hang on to his desire to remain uninvolved, but he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

DANIELLA WATCHED AS SAM headed back toward the house. She felt sick as wave after wave of horror washed over her. As Sam entered the kitchen she fought the irrational impulse to run into his arms, to feel the warmth of his body against hers.

“I called the sheriff. He should be here soon.” She was appalled to hear the quiver in her voice.

Sam took her by the arm and led her to a chair, where she sat and fought back tears. “I was going to take out the trash,” she said. “I’d only taken a couple of steps outside when I saw her.” She fought against a shudder than threatened to consume her body.

“Do you know her?”

She nodded. “Her name is Samantha Walker. She’s the divorced daughter of the mayor of Bachelor Moon.” She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to ward off the cold horror that still swept through her. “I can’t imagine who did this or what she was doing on my property.”

“Where is everyone else?” He sat in the chair next to hers and the scent of his clean, crisp cologne swept over her. It was oddly comforting.

“Frank and Jeff went home right after dinner, and Matt went out. Surely you don’t think any of them had anything to do with this?”

“I was just curious who was in the house. It looks like she was moved here after she was killed, and she’s been dead for quite a while.”

Daniella felt the burn of tears as a vision of Samantha filled her head. “I’ve never seen somebody like that…dead…murdered.” She fought against a shudder as Macy came into the kitchen clad in her pajamas.

She jumped up from her chair and pasted a smile on her face. “All ready for a tuck-in?”

“Yeah, but I want Mr. Sam to tuck me in, too.” She grabbed Sam’s hand and tugged at him. “Come on, I’ll show you my princess crown.”

Sam looked shocked, but rose to his feet, obviously understanding that Daniella wanted Macy in bed as soon as possible and not out here when the sheriff arrived or where she might get a peek at Samantha’s body.

Macy pulled Sam through the doorway that led to their private quarters. There was a sitting room, a bathroom and two small bedrooms. She followed them into Macy’s bedroom where the little girl crawled into the twin bed, pulled up the pink flowered sheet and patted the mattress beside her. “Here, have a seat, Mr. Sam.”

Sam looked at Daniella, obviously uncomfortable with the whole scene. Still, he eased down on the mattress as Daniella nodded. Macy opened the drawer in her nightstand and withdrew her glittery princess crown.

It was a surreal moment, her daughter proudly showing off her crown while a dead woman lay in the yard. Samantha Walker wasn’t the nicest woman in the world, but Daniella couldn’t imagine somebody wanting to murder her. And why had her body been left here?

“You want to see me wear my crown and do my princess walk?” Macy asked Sam.

“It’s bedtime now,” Daniella said firmly. “There will be another time to show off your princess walk.”

“It’s a pretty crown,” Sam said, as he stood.

“Thank you. It keeps away monsters,” Macy replied.

Daniella took the crown from her daughter and placed it back in the drawer. “Good night,” she said, then kissed Macy’s sweet cheek. “Sleep tight.”

“Good night, princess,” Sam said. A moment later he and Daniella left the bedroom and went back into the kitchen. “Will she get out of bed again?” he asked.

“I doubt it.” Daniella sat in one of the chairs at the small oak table and wondered what was taking the sheriff so long. “Macy has always been one of those unusual kids who loves to sleep. Bedtime has never been a problem with her.”

As he sat in the chair next to her, she was over whelmed by myriad emotions. “I’m so sorry that this has happened,” she said. “This isn’t business as usual for the bed-and-breakfast.”

He smiled, and once again she was struck by his handsomeness. “I didn’t think you arranged this scene strictly for your guests’ entertainment,” he said.

“I just can’t believe this is happening.” She felt sick, as if she’d never be able to dispel the vision of Samantha from her brain.

At that moment a knock came from the front door, and Daniella steeled herself not only for the investigation to come but also to deal with Sheriff Jim Thompson, who she thought was a cranky incompetent.

She was grateful for Sam’s presence just behind her as she opened the door to let Jim inside. “I hope this isn’t some sort of wild goose chase,” he said as he stepped into the foyer.

“I doubt if the dead woman beneath the tree on the side of the house considers this a wild goose chase,” Sam replied.

Jim drew himself up to his banty-rooster height and narrowed his eyes. “And you are?”

“Sam Connelly. I’m a guest here.”

“Jim, she’s been stabbed,” Daniella said. “It’s Samantha Walker.”

Jim’s grizzly gray eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “There’s going to be hell to pay with the mayor. Point me in the right direction and let’s get this investigation underway.”

They were all silent as they walked through the kitchen and Daniella pointed out the door. Sam followed Jim outside while she remained in the kitchen, the horror of the situation back in the center of her brain.

She sat at the table and closed her eyes, but instead of thinking about poor Samantha Walker she found her head filled with thoughts of Sam Connelly. Maybe because it was easier to think about how hot he was instead of how dead Samantha was.

And he was hot. It wasn’t just the fact that his tight jeans showcased slim hips, long legs and a tight butt, and his shoulders appeared wide enough to shoulder any trouble that might come his way. His electric blue eyes held a keen intelligence and a whisper of darkness that was daunting but also intriguing.

She frowned and rubbed the center of her forehead where a headache attempted to blossom. Something about Sam Connelly struck her on a strictly feminine level, made her remember that she was not only a healthy woman with desires, but also a very lonely woman.

The loneliness had grown more intense over the last year, when she’d finally given up ever hearing from her husband, Johnny, again. Sure, she had Macy and Frank and Jeff to fill some of the empty spaces in her life, but they couldn’t take the place of warm arms wrapping around her in the middle of the night, of that special smile that passed between lovers, of those moments of knowing you were in somebody’s heart, in their very soul, as they were in yours.

She mentally kicked herself. She didn’t know anything about Sam Connelly other than that he was from Kansas City and he’d paid for his accommodations here in advance with a major credit card. She didn’t know what he did for a living, what kind of man he was at heart, or if he had a significant other somewhere.

She got up from the table, moved to the back door and peered out. Sam and Jim stood to one side. Several other deputies had arrived, along with Dr. Earl Stanton, who in addition to his private practice, also worked as the coroner in the area.

Poor Samantha. Who could have done something so terrible to her? Certainly Samantha hadn’t been particularly well-liked by a lot of the people in town, but she hadn’t deserved this.

Murdered.

She’d been murdered. The horror once again struck Daniella like a fist in the pit of her stomach. It was like a nightmare, and she desperately wanted to wake up.

As she saw Sam and Jim start in the direction of the house, she backed away from the door. Both men looked grim as they came back into the kitchen.

“Earl thinks she was killed sometime early this afternoon at another location then left here,” Jim said. “Did she come out here to talk to you?”

“No, Samantha and I had no business with each other, and she rarely acknowledged me when we’d bump into each other in town. I can’t imagine why she’s here,” Daniella replied.

For the next thirty minutes the sheriff asked her questions about her activities that day, about how she had discovered the body and if she’d seen anyone unusual lurking about the place anytime in the last couple of days. She had no answers for him.

Finally he was finished with her. Within another thirty minutes the body had been removed, and everyone was gone except Sam and Daniella, who once again sat at the kitchen table.

“The sheriff didn’t act like you’re one of his favorite people,” Sam said.

“Five years ago my husband disappeared, and I not only made myself a nuisance to Jim, but at one point I called him an incompetent jerk who should be waiting tables instead of working investigations.”

“Ouch. So, is he incompetent?” Sam asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought he was when I was trying to find my husband, but that was just my personal opinion. I know he’s retiring at the end of the year, which will be a good thing.”

“Macy said her daddy got lost.” Sam leaned forward in his chair, his gaze intent as he gazed at her. “What happened to him?”

She could fall into those blue depths if she allowed herself. She reminded herself that even though he’d been a support, he was simply a guest who would be gone within two weeks.

“I wish I knew,” she answered. As always, thoughts of Johnny brought with them a faint edge of grief and a whisper of unresolved anger. “Five years ago he left here to drive into town to get diapers for Macy and he never came back. At first I thought maybe he’d been involved in an accident, but when I called Jim nobody had reported anything like that. I called Jeff, Johnny’s best friend, to see if he’d heard anything from him. He hadn’t, but he made the rounds of all the bars and hangouts in town looking for Johnny.”

How well she remembered that night. As the hours had worn on with no word from her husband she’d been frantic with worry, certain that something terrible had happened to the man she loved.

She swallowed hard to dislodge the lump that rose in the back of her throat. “When twenty-four hours had passed I went down to Jim’s office and filed an official missing-persons report. Jim told me he’d check around but that it wasn’t against the law for a husband to leave his wife.”

“Were you and your husband having marital problems?”

It was a personal question but Daniella didn’t take offense. Somehow, in the last couple of hours that passed with the investigation of a murder, between them had arisen a strange, false sense of intimacy.

“Johnny and I were high school sweethearts. We got married on the day I turned eighteen, and we shared the dream of buying this place and turning it into a successful bed-and-breakfast. We were married four years when I got pregnant with Macy. That same year my mother died, and we used the money from her life insurance policy to buy this place. Macy was two months old when we moved in, and for the next two months we painted and scrubbed and did everything we could to get this place ready to open.” She realized she was rambling, telling him more than he’d asked for, but it seemed important that he know the details.

“Things were good,” she continued. “We had the baby we wanted and were on our way to seeing our dream come true, and then he was just gone.”

“Was there an official investigation into his disappearance?” Sam asked.

“Eventually, but he and his car were never found. For a long time I entertained all kinds of ideas. He’d been in an accident and had hit his head and suffered amnesia. He was kidnapped at gunpoint and was being held captive for some unknown reason. Jim thought that he’d just walked away from the responsibility of the business, the baby and me, but I couldn’t imagine Johnny doing that. A year ago I finally decided to get a divorce on grounds of abandonment. And I’m sorry. I’ve bored you long enough.”

She pushed back from the table, embarrassed that she’d spilled so much personal information to him. “Thank you for all your support tonight, and now back to your regular scheduled vacation plans.” She stood and he did the same.

“If the sheriff needs to talk to you again and you want somebody there with you, just let me know,” he said.

She smiled gratefully at him. “Thanks, but I just hope you can put all this behind you and enjoy the rest of your time here. But I would understand if you want to leave and stay someplace else.” She froze as she saw her cordless phone on the counter. Suddenly she remembered the strange phone call she’d gotten earlier in the day.

“I’m not going anywhere for now. Daniella, is something wrong?” Sam took a step closer to her and once again she noticed the sexy scent of him.

“It’s probably nothing,” she said. “I just had a weird phone call this morning.”

“Weird how?”

Once again she was struck not only by the rich color of his eyes but by the hard edge of intelligence that shone there. “It was an anonymous call. I didn’t recognize the voice, but it sounded like he said ‘for you’ and then hung up.” A cold chill walked up her spine. “But surely it didn’t have anything to do with Samantha’s death. That just doesn’t make sense, does it?”

Sam held her gaze for a long moment. “Let’s hope not,” he finally said, but the answer did nothing to dispel the cold wind that blew through Daniella.