Deadly Shadow

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Deadly Shadow Page 12

by Kim Cresswell


  She hated to admit it, but she was strangely happy to see him. Victory said nothing and continued her silent observation. Her gaze veered to the unshoveled walkway leading to the front door. It looked as if Melissa hadn’t been in or out of the house for days. Store sale flyers and other mail partially hung out of the mailbox and flapped in the chilly air.

  She glanced at her partner. “Check the garage and see if her car is here. It doesn’t look like she’s left the house for days.”

  While Ryan investigated the garage, Victory tried to get a better read on Derrick, unsure if what he told them was true. She had done a background check on him after their first meeting and nothing earth-shattering had turned up. Her stomach felt tight, the same feeling she had when she first met the man as if he was hiding something. She had questions, lots of them, like how he had gotten her home address. Behind her, Ryan’s voice carved through her thoughts.

  “Her car’s here, Vic.”

  Something felt wrong, off. Melissa was a woman who would stop at nothing to get a story. Victory doubted the reporter had decided to sit at home for days and especially stop answering phone calls.

  “I’ll check the back of the house,” Ryan yelled, as he rounded the corner of the garage.

  Victory walked past Derrick to the front door. He was wearing an expense leather coat and she caught a whiff of his aftershave. The clean and woodsy scent suddenly reminded her of her husband. She pushed the memory away and glanced at Derrick.

  “Stick around until we speak with Melissa.”

  “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  After knocking several times and no one answered, Victory turned the doorknob on the off-chance it was unlocked. It wasn’t. She plodded through the snow and peered through the front window. There was no movement inside.

  Ryan came around the corner of the house, the bottom of his pants stained and wet from the snow. “Everything’s locked up tight. No sign of her.”

  Victory heaved a heavy sigh. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and dialed the reporter’s number. The call went to voicemail right away. “Something isn’t right.” She hung up and pulled out her gun.

  Ryan drew his weapon.

  Derrick gaze wandered past her to the front door. “What’s going on?”

  “Stay put.” She hoofed it to the front door. Ryan followed and held open the screen door.

  Two-handing her gun, Victory lifted her right leg and kicked the door with the heel of her boot. Wood cracked, and the doorframe buckled. A dog barked in the distance. She kicked again, harder. The door flew open. Victory raised her gun and cautiously headed inside.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Derrick leaned against his SUV and rubbed his hands together to warm them. He knew what Victory would find inside. Things weren’t look good for him.

  He had to get the reporter’s laptop before anyone discovered her notes about the Elara Project. If he didn’t, the house of cards would crash down, taking him out, his father, and the president. It was bad enough the reporter and Bullington were connected and they were both dead.

  It was supposed to be easy. Break in. Grab the laptop. Go.

  Bad timing. Running into two FBI agents was the last thing he thought would happen. He wanted to jump in his SUV and take off. He’d thought about it. He couldn’t. He’d look guiltier than he already was.

  Victory was becoming a huge threat. Derrick grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed his father.

  “What is it, son? I’m heading out the door to meet with the president.”

  “I’m at the reporter’s house. No way I can get the laptop.” He explained to his father what was going on as he watched two Cincinnati police cruisers speeding down the street toward him.

  “FBI agents? Bad timing, indeed.”

  There was a long beat of silence.

  “I’ll look after it from my end, but you’ll need to take care of any potential fallout.”

  Derrick wasn’t sure what fallout his father was talking about, nor did he care as long as the laptop ended up in their possession.

  “I’ll call you back with the details.”

  Derrick shoved the phone into his pocket and walked slowly back to the front door of the house, his nerves on edge, concerned what was going to happen next. He had to remain calm and play dumb. He heard Victory’s muffled voice coming from inside the house then more sirens closing in fast from the west.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Victory’s good mood evaporated along with the sugar high. Her stomach did a flip-flop. She put a hand over her mouth and nose. “Open a window before I toss my birthday donut.”

  The master bedroom reeked of urine, feces, something that smelled like nail polish remover mixed with maple syrup and rotten meat.

  Ryan flashed a grin. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  She ignored the comment, his reminder that she had tossed her cookies at the crime scene was aging faster than she was.

  He unlocked the window and opened it a few inches, enough to help stabilize the vile stench, but not enough to disturb any possible evidence. “That’s just nasty. Guess your gut was right.”

  Victory stared down at Melissa’s lifeless body on the bed and the red and purple ligature mark around her neck. Lengthy, deep scratches from her long nails marked her neck and face in a desperate plea to save herself. Her eyes were wide, the whites, blood red. Her body was partially buried within a thick white and gray satin duvet. Her bare feet hanging out.

  “I have some information about Eddie Bullington’s death. It’s important.”

  Important enough to kill for it.

  A belt from a floral satin bathrobe, an alarm clock and a shattered wineglass were splayed on the floor. An expensive designer lamp was toppled over on the nightstand.

  “She put up a fierce struggle.”

  Victory nodded and thought for a moment. “Bring Derrick inside. Plant him somewhere, the living room, office. I want to talk to him.”

  “You think he had something to do with this? Might be just a wrong place at the wrong time scenario. We watched him arrive a couple minutes before we did.”

  All Victory knew was the man was here and Melissa was dead. She wasn’t happy where her thoughts were heading. That connected him to both cases even if he hadn’t killed Melissa or Nicole. At the very least his timing at the house was suspicious.

  “He could’ve been in the house earlier, then came back.”

  “Maybe.” Ryan thrust his hands in his pant pockets. “At least we know The Wrapper didn’t do this one.”

  That should have been comforting but it wasn’t. Melissa knew something about the Bullington case and it might have cost her life.

  Ryan looked around the room. The place is locked up snug. “The Shadow?”

  Victory shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see where the evidence takes us.”

  Sirens howled, and vehicle doors slammed shut outside the house. Voices floated inside the bedroom through the open window, the sound a confused muffled buzz.

  After Ryan left to go get Derrick, Victory stood in the doorway and watched the bedroom flood with crime scene techs, taking notes, photographing, videotaping, and measuring. She made a quick call to Curtis to see if Jeremy Elder had been located yet. He hadn’t. He was still out there, somewhere.

  “Make sure her hands get bagged,” Victory said to one of the crime techs walking into the bedroom.

  He gave her a nod and got busy.

  Victory walked down the hallway to the living room.

  Derrick was seated comfortably on the couch, looking relaxed, watching the commotion. She heard Ryan talking to one of the local cops in the kitchen.

  Derrick stood when she entered the room. “What’s happening?”

  “Melissa is dead.” She waited for his reaction, hoping he’d give away something useful.

  “Jesus. How?”

  “That’s not important. What is important, is how this looks.”

  His eyebrows came together in confus
ion. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re here. Melissa’s dead. A causal association yet connected.”

  “I can assure you it is simply a coincidence.”

  “A heck of a coincidence,” Ryan said from the doorway of the kitchen.

  Derrick glanced at Ryan then back to Victory. He remained silent.

  She searched his face. She wasn’t getting any type of gut reaction from the man. Either he was telling the truth, or he was a world-class liar.

  “How’d you get my home address to send the flowers?”

  “This is really embarrassing.” He let out a breath. “I had someone at the DoD get it for me.”

  Victory was taken back by the revelation and the length he had gone to get her address, so he could send her flowers. “Your father?” Under the circumstances, she should have been creeped out. She wasn’t, which baffled her.

  “No.”

  “Whoever gave you my address, shouldn’t have. I’m an FBI agent. If that information ever got—”

  “I’m sorry. My lips are sealed. I just wanted to have dinner with you, that’s why I sent the invitation with the flowers.”

  By the tone of his voice he sounded genuinely sorry. Victory scrubbed an invisible speck of dirt from her coat then trained her gaze toward the front door. There were more questions she wanted to ask Derrick, but she was uncomfortable talking in front of her partner since she’d never told Ryan about the dinner invitation. Not that it was any of his business. Sometimes his brotherly love went too far. She knew he was only trying to protect her.

  “You’re free to leave. If we have any other questions, we’ll be in contact.”

  On the way to the door, Derrick stopped beside her and smiled. “Maybe one day we’ll have that meal together.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  After sleeping for five hours, later that evening, Victory sat in the living room with Jade, drinking a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. Ryan and Angie were in the kitchen, talking. The apartment smelled of tomato sauce, garlic, fresh basil, and cheese. The aroma made Victory’s stomach growl. She hadn’t had chicken parmesan since before Josh died. It was times like this that her husband’s absence weighed heavily upon her. Tonight, she missed his culinary flare and his laughter.

  “Happy Birthday, Mom,” Jade said.

  Victory smiled at her daughter. “Thanks, hun. I’m so happy you’re home for a couple of days.”

  “I’m glad exams are over with.”

  “I’m sure you did well. You always do. Your father would be proud. I know I am.”

  Jade looked up at the photographs of her father on the mantel. “Wish he was here.”

  The thought made Victory’s heart squeeze. “Me, too.”

  “Do you think he’s watching from heaven?”

  Victory wasn’t sure what to say after losing her faith in God when Josh was killed. In her mind, if there wasn’t a God, heaven couldn’t possibly exist. His death had ripped every shred of faith from her.

  She took a drink of wine and glanced at her daughter, not wanting to disappoint her. “I’m sure he is.”

  “Where’s Sean?” Ryan asked from the dining room.

  Victory’s eyes shifted to the colorful birthday banner taped to the wall with streamers and balloons next to the clock. “He should be here in a few minutes.”

  Jade glanced over her shoulder toward Ryan then turned and whispered to Victory. “Those two are definitely doing it.”

  “What?”

  “Ryan and Angie. They’re doing it.”

  Victory laughed. “That obvious?”

  Jade grinned and nodded.

  The apartment buzzer went off. Jade bounced off the couch and went to let Sean in.

  Victory got up and went to the kitchen to grab a beer. When she walked in, Ryan and Angie were in a sensual embrace. She cleared her throat, opened the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of beer.

  She was happy Ryan had found someone he cared about, Curtis wouldn’t be thrilled. They’d have to figure out how they were going to make things work at the office.

  “Sorry, Vic. Didn’t know you were there,” Ryan said.

  Angie looked away, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

  Victory opened the bottle of beer and tossed the cap in the garbage. “You two think you can keep your hands to yourselves long enough to have dinner?” She stopped herself from smiling and walked out of the kitchen.

  “Happy Birthday, Vic.” Sean said, as he took off his coat and tossed it on the arm of the couch.

  “Thanks, Sean.” She handed him the bottle of beer.

  “Can we eat now?” Jade asked.

  “Sure,” Victory said.

  Sean slugged back a mouthful of beer. “Sorry I’m late. I had a few things to do.”

  “You’re here. That’s all that matters.” Victory smiled.

  While everyone took a seat around the dining room table, Jade was in the kitchen loading everyone’s plates with food.

  Victory topped up her wine and set the empty wine bottle beside her. “Any news on Elder?”

  Sean shook his head. “A few tips that didn’t pan out. A BOLO was issued for his vehicle, a silver Acura TL.”

  Ryan took a drink of his beer. “Does he have any family?”

  “An older brother. Patrick. He’s an ER doc at Houston Methodist Hospital in Texas. Don’t know if Jeremy has a girlfriend yet. Still working on that one. His mother died a few years ago.”

  Victory couldn’t imagine the shock, learning your brother was a serial killer. Nor could all the training or experience in the world prepare an agent to look into loved one’s eyes and tell them their child was dead. Victory had done it so many times she’d lost count. She wished for once she could deliver some good news—like Jeremy Elder had been caught.

  “Eight pieces of jewelry belonging to the victims were recovered,” Sean said.

  “Hey. No talking shop until after dinner,” Jade said, as she handed Victory a plate of food.

  No shop talk was one of Josh’s rules when they were at the dinner table. Because of all their crazy schedules, it was important to savor the little family time they had together.

  Victory eyed the chicken drenched in marinara sauce and cheese, and grilled carrots, tomatoes and mushrooms. “Looks delicious.”

  Jade finished serving the others and sat down.

  Ryan raised his beer in salute. “Happy Birthday, Vic. Cheers.”

  Everyone raised their drinks.

  Victory grabbed her wine glass. “Just remember. I’m not forty-five. I’m eighteen with twenty-seven years of experience.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Dinner looks great. I don’t remember the last time I had a real meal,” Sean said, as he dug in.

  “Jade made it, using her father’s famous recipe. Victory took a bite of the chicken parmesan, the rich and tangy taste bringing back two decades of memories. She forced herself to keep it together.

  After everyone finished dinner, Ryan handed her a thin gift-wrapped box with a big pink bow. “We got you a little something, Vic.”

  Angie and Ryan grinned at each other.

  Victory slowly and suspiciously took the box then glanced at her daughter who was also grinning. “I’m afraid to open it.”

  “Come on, Mom. It won’t bite you.” Jade said. “Promise.”

  Victory’s eyes narrowed at Sean. “You know anything about this?”

  He shook his head. Victory knew better. They were all in on whatever was inside the box.

  Victory unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside was a white bag. She held it up. On the front of the bag was printed in bold red lettering, ‘Victory’s Puke Bag’.

  She burst out laughing, welcoming and needing the distraction. “I knew I’d never live it down.”

  Sean laughed. “It’ll go nicely with your work attire.”

  “Smartasses.” Victory shook her head, staring at the bag. “Thank you. I think.”

  Jade stood and reached for her purse on the
kitchen island. “Oh, I have something for you.” She passed Victory a small black box. “I hope you like it.”

  “You didn’t need to get me anything.” Victory opened the box. It was a white-gold chain bracelet. “It’s beautiful.” She held the piece of jewelry up for everyone to see.

  “It’s so pretty,” Angie said.

  Jade lowered her head then looked up at Victory. Her eyes misted over. “It’s special, Mom. I had it made from Dad’s neck chain, the one he wore all the time.”

  Victory’s heart skipped a beat. The room turned quiet as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for her reaction.

  She clutched the bracelet tighter. It was a piece of Josh she needed right now. Victory went and hugged her daughter. “Thank you.”

  Angie stood. “Time for cake.” She went into the kitchen and brought the cake out with forty-five lit candles.

  Victory put the bracelet on, then blew out the candles unaware of the vehicle parked across the street from her apartment building, watching and waiting.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  On the east side of town, Derrick paced to stay warm as he waited inside the dark tunnel. Moonlight glinted through the pine trees cluttered tightly against each other, camouflaging the tunnel. At the other end of the tunnel, snow skipped across the street.

  He was worried about his run-in with Victory at the reporter’s house. Even though there was a lot of attraction between the two, Derrick, felt Victory was working behind the scenes, looking for dirt on him. She seemed too cool when she’d let him leave Melissa’s house without questioning him any further. Then the phone conversation he had with his father earlier ran through his mind.

  “What’s the plan?” Derrick asked.

  “Police corruption has run rampant throughout the city, and the state for that matter, for decades. Why not take advantage of the situation?”

  “How?”

  “A police officer will meet you at midnight in the old tunnel on the east side. Everyone has a price.”

  “What’s his price? Can we trust him?”

  “Five thousand. It won’t matter if we can trust him or not.”

 

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