“You don’t have to look at every dead body on this case.”
“Thanks for trying to protect me, but I do, and you know it.”
Sighing, he moved out of my way.
I walked around Alexander. The dead body lay on the floor—two bullet holes decorated his chest. Someone had surprised him in the middle of grabbing his popcorn out of the microwave. The bag sat next to his open eyes and shocked mouth. Popcorn scattered all around him, floating in a pool of blood.
Alexander kneeled down and touched the side of the man’s neck. “Not even cold. Whoever did it, beat us to him within minutes. Call Stein and see how close he is. I don’t trust Colesville police. Also, have Stein grab the camera and computer from the bar.”
A shiver ran up my spine. I took out my cell and dialed Brett’s number.
He came on after two rings. “Hello?”
“Brett, someone killed the bar owner. We need you to go to the bar and get the footage from there.”
Worry hit Brett’s voice. “And if they ask for a search warrant?”
“Remain there and have Tina get one. Either way, we’ll figure it out.”
“Text me the address.”
“Call in Dr. Ross too.” I hung up and put the phone in my pocket. I was about to place my gun back in its holster.
Alexander shook his head. “Keep it out. The person still could be here. We’ll have to check.”
He rose. A grim expression covered his face. “Sheriff Bran did this. He didn’t pull the trigger, but he called someone to beat us here.”
“Makes sense. I just wonder who he called to do it.”
He frowned. “Maybe, Sheriff Michaelson?”
“That would be too obvious.”
“Still, they’re not the smartest men.” Alexander walked forward. “How much do you want to bet that the footage is no longer here?”
“God, I hope you’re wrong,” I muttered.
We walked through the house. After ten minutes, we confirmed that no one else was inside. Additionally, someone had snatched out the computer on his messy desk and rummaged through the man’s files.
Near the back window, I caught a glint of something in the yard. “What was that?”
Before I could check, Alexander shoved me out of the way and dragged me to the floor. We crashed to the ground.
What is he doing?
A bullet shot through the glass that I stood by.
It put a hole into the wall.
Oh my God.
“Damn it.” Alexander jumped up, opened the back door, and raced out. “FBI! Stop!”
I was almost shot.
Shocked, I ran after him, hurrying through the overgrown grass. My legs burned. Sweat wet my palms. My heart pounded inside my chest. With only the moonlight, it was hard to see Alexander and the person he ran after.
I caught a glimpse of the figure ahead of us. Moonlight revealed his frame but hid his face. The bulky man sped forward. Holding the gun in front of me, I tightened my fingers around the metal.
Alexander increased his speed, closing the distance between the man and us. “FBI! Identify yourself!”
The guy didn’t stop running.
“I said, identify yourself!” Alexander’s voice rose in the air.
The guy whipped around and shot at us. One bullet slammed into the tree near my head. Wood splintered and hit my skin.
I dropped to the ground. Alexander ducked out of the way. When the guy did a full-out run again, I jumped up and headed after him.
Alexander sped past me and aimed. He shot and didn’t miss. The bullet hit the guy’s knee. The man screamed in pain. His running shifted to limping.
I fired too. My bullet hit the man’s shoulder.
“Drop the gun!” Alexander shot twice. The bullets caught him in the back and leg. The man staggered to the side and then he collapsed to the ground.
Out of breath, I rushed to the man and pointed my gun at his head. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he coughed into the tall grass.
The gun shook in my hand. “Identify yourself.”
“Fuck you, nigger.” The guy raised his head and somehow managed to lift his gun.
Within the moonlight, I spotted the rage in his eyes. “Drop the gun!”
“I said Fuck. You. Nigger.” Blood dripped from his mouth. He raised his gun some more, pointing at my chest.
Shock gripped me.
Alexander jumped to the man’s side and pressed the tip of his gun to his forehead. “Put the gun down now!”
The guy kept those crazy eyes on me. His finger trembled as he began to pull the trigger. But he never got the chance. Alexander pulled first and shot him in the head.
My bottom lip quivered.
“Are you okay?” Alexander rushed to me and pulled me into his arms. “Did he get you earlier?”
I touched his chest. The steel of his muscles pressed against my hands. “No. . .he didn’t get me.”
“Good.” Still, Alexander searched my face and scanned his gaze along my hands and arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I-I swear. I’m fine.”
Sighing, Alexander let me go, rushed over to the man, grabbed his quaking body, and dragged him further into the moonlight. “Not the sheriff, but it’s a Colesville deputy. He still has his uniform on underneath this black jacket.”
Stunned, for some reason, I pointed the gun back at the dead man. “Why wouldn’t he just put the gun down?”
“Because he knew that we would question him and get answers that he didn’t want to give.” Alexander let go of the guy. His dead body dropped to the ground.
“So, he would rather die?”
“It must be pretty dreadful answers.” Alexander walked back over to me and scowled. “Don’t get in front of another gun like that again!”
“That wasn’t my intention I just—”
“Don’t!” Alexander stalked off, pulled his phone out, and updated Brett.
In a daze, I stood there by the body. So far in the past few days, I had seen three dead bodies—a little girl, an old man, and now a deputy calling me a nigger.
Welcome to the field, Haven. Are you sure you have the stomach for this?
I put my gun in the holster and focused on my breaths.
Jesus Christ.
The little girls’ images flashed through my head, reminding me of why I’d volunteered for this case. I was an adult with a gun. I had nothing to be terrified of while some psycho took those powerless girls away.
Suck it up and calm down.
Alexander moved the phone from his mouth and pointed to the body. “Check his badge. Stein wants his name.”
“Okay.” I swallowed and forced myself to stop shaking.
God. I have to touch a dead body. Not my favorite part of this job.
Lowering to the ground, I dug my hands into the dead man’s pants pocket, found the wallet, and took it out. I could have checked the wallet right there, but I wanted distance between the corpse and me.
Dear God. There’s already a smell coming, or is it just in my head?
I opened the wallet. “Deputy Greg Martelle.”
Alexander repeated the name, turned off the phone, and walked over to me. “How are you?”
“Perfect.”
He gave me a sad smile. “Really?”
“No. Not one bit.” I handed him the badge.
“Do you need to throw up?”
“Not yet.”
“Stein is around the corner. He should be here soon. If you need a break or something. You can go back to Saint Mary’s—”
“I’m not going back to the inn until you do.”
“Agent Barron, if you’re trying to prove that you’re a bad ass, the point was made long ago.”
“Thank you.” I sighed. “But I’m staying.”
Noise sounded ahead.
I followed Alexander back into the house.
Brett and Tina appeared.
I met them outside. Fullbrooke and Col
esville police arrived. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
Which ones are the friends, and which ones are the foes?
The red lights from the ambulance flew in a sickening blur to the scene, lighting up the area. Tires squealed. I looked beyond the emergency vehicle and spotted news vans.
Who called them?
We didn’t need the news out here, spreading wrong facts. Once they spotted the FBI badges, they would think the dead guy had something to do with the Fullbrooke Six. I wasn’t convinced just yet.
Brett rushed up the steps. “We made it to the bar, but coincidentally the camera, computer, and footage was all gone.”
“Was Sheriff Bran there?”
“He wasn’t.” Brett glanced at the house. “No footage here either?”
“None.” I shook my head. “We checked everywhere, but it wouldn’t hurt for you two to look around again.”
Tina nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
She disappeared into the house.
Brett remained outside. “Alexander told me what happened. How are you?”
“I’m fine. It was just unexpected.”
“Let me know if you need something. The first guy dying in front of you is always the hardest to get over.”
I swallowed. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
Brett switched back to business. “Who knew Alexander and you were coming?”
“The bar owner’s daughter, Maddie. She was the one who showed the footage on the camera. Sheriff Bran was also there too. No doubt, he told the deputy to do it.”
“On other cases, I’ve dealt with battling local police before. When a sheriff does bad things, they’ll cover themselves well. If Sheriff Bran was on the footage, he’ll pretend like the video showed nothing much.” Brett shook his head. “I already tried to talk to a Judge Terry, attempting to get a search warrant. He hung up as soon as I said the Sheriff’s name.”
I muttered, “The good old boy system.”
“We won’t get near Sheriff Bran unless we have clear evidence.”
“And he’ll say this Deputy Martelle came to this house and acted on his own accord.”
“I’m sure of it. Not a major mystery there.” Brett sighed. “Do you think they’re directly involved in the Fullbrooke Six or just covering up something else? We don’t have any time to waste on this unless it relates to our Unsub.”
“We’ll figure it out soon.” I tapped my foot on the porch. “Someone should watch Maddie until we know what’s going on. She could be in danger. And it can’t be the local police.”
“I’ll have agents do it.”
“Someone should watch over the dead deputy’s place too, just in case there’s something there.”
Brett smiled. “Exactly. You’ve been around King a lot.”
“You think so?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “You sound like him.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
Brett shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Alexander stepped out onto the porch. “If Sheriff Bran was hoping to push us off his path, then he messed up. With this new dead body, he has my full attention.”
More FBI agents pulled up to the house.
Alexander looked at me. “How are you? Do you need some time?”
“No.” I swallowed. “What’s next?”
“Let’s go talk to Sheriff Bran.”
Brett spoke, “Do you think it will matter?”
“I don’t care.” Alexander stomped to the car. “I’m starting to get tired of hillbilly sheriffs in their dusty little racist towns.”
Alrighty.
Brett chuckled. “Then, have a blast.”
I made to the car and climbed in.
Grumbling, Alexander started the engine and headed off. “Do we have the sheriff’s address?”
“Yes. I wrote it down before we left the police station earlier. He was too suspicious to not get as much information on him as possible.”
“Good.” Alexander’s gaze slipped toward me, just for a second, and then back to the road. “Both sheriffs just hit important evidence. At this time, we can’t prove it. For now, it’ll be our word against theirs. Neither will matter if we don’t have more reason to point to them as the ones responsible for the Fullbrooke Six.”
“You mean no judge will think it’s enough evidence to start monitoring them?”
“Exactly. And that’s probably because they have the judges in their dirty pockets.”
I put my seatbelt on. “So, this visit to Sheriff Bran is simply to annoy him?”
“Correction. Annoy the shit out of him. I want Sheriff Bran to know that I’m not some deputy from one of these towns. If he’s the Angel Maker, then I’m going to be all over his ass every minute of his shitty day.”
I smirked. “You’re teaching me a lot about being in the field.”
“I’m doing my best.”
Alexander plugged the address into the car rental’s GPS. “And how are you doing?”
“I’m fine for the hundredth time.”
“Are you tired of me asking?”
“Yes.”
“Too bad.”
“Plus, Brett asked too. I guess I’m a bit annoyed.”
“You’re not annoyed. You’re frazzled. And of course, Brett asked. He’s concerned.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“He is but remember. . .I’m next door to your room. Therefore, I’m the one you come to, when you have nightmares.”
Really? Now you flirt?
I gave him a weak smile. “By the way, I never told you thank you.”
“For what?”
“I might’ve had a bullet in my head this evening.”
“No. We can’t have that.”
“Still. . .thank you.”
“Any time. Any place, Agent Barron.”
We arrived at Sheriff Bran’s place in no time. The house was close to Maddie’s father’s place, making him look even more guilty. The nervousness from earlier returned, but then mingled with annoyance.
Alexander rounded the corner and parked in front of a large white house. “Here we go.”
I spotted Sheriff Bran standing outside with a beer in his hand. “And he’s expecting us.”
“I love cocky sheriffs.” Alexander shut off the car. “The cocky ones are easy to break, and they always get caught in the end.”
We both left the car.
Still in uniform, Sheriff Bran walked over to us. “Why are you two at my house? I heard you should be celebrating.”
I leaned my head to the side. “Celebrating?”
Sheriff Bran took a swig of his beer and grinned.
Alexander got to my side. Anger covered his face.
Sheriff Bran swallowed more beer and then wiped his mouth. “I heard that you caught the Angel Maker.”
Alexander took a step forward. “Did we now?”
Sheriff Bran finished his beer and then slung it into his trash can. “You two cracked the case and did a good job indeed.”
“I doubt that deputy was the Angel Maker.” Alexander placed his hands in his pockets. “I still have my eye on another person.”
“Another person?” Sheriff Bran laughed. “No. Seems clear-cut to me.”
“No evidence points to this man having anything to with the Fullbrooke Six,” I said.
“Are you sure?” Sheriff Bran kept his view on Alexander. “Is it normal for the FBI to make things so difficult?”
Alexander nodded. “It is. That’s why many find us so annoying.”
“If you’re not celebrating, then why come here?” Sheriff Bran turned to me. “Please tell me how I can help.”
“You claimed to be at the Tipsy Pig on the dates that the girls were missing.”
“I was there.” Sheriff Bran smiled.
I spoke, “But, not there the whole time. You ate with Sheriff Michaelson for barely an hour and then left. I wonder where you two went and what you both talked about?”
&
nbsp; “No.” Sheriff Bran shook his head. “I was at the bar on those dates for the entire evening. You must be mistaken.”
“I’m not.”
“You are, Mrs. Barron.”
“Special Agent Barron,” Alexander corrected.
“It doesn’t matter.” The sheriff laughed. “I have witnesses that will say Sheriff Michaelson and I were in the bar for several hours. All the way until closing.”
“I’m sure you do.” Alexander nodded. “I only wonder why two sheriffs would need people to lie for them.”
He patted down his shirt and adjusted his star. “Sheriffs don’t need people to lie for them.”
“Guilty sheriffs do.” My body stiffened as a wave of fury seared through me.
“I would be careful what you say to me, Special Agent Barron.” Sheriff Bran scowled. “Around here, FBI badges mean nothing.”
“We’ll see.” I grinned.
Alexander spoke, “It doesn’t matter either way.”
“That’s the spirit,” Sheriff Bran said.
“We’ll see you again.” Alexander gave a short, patronizing bow. “Have a good night, Sheriff Bran. Hope you sleep well this evening.”
“Oh, I will, Special Agent King.” He chuckled. “I definitely will.”
We left the sheriff standing there, enjoying himself.
When we got into the car, Alexander frowned and turned to me. “I don’t like him.”
“Me either.”
“He’s a racist asshole.”
“He is.”
“He’s also hiding something.”
“I agree.”
“However. . .” Alexander faced the window.
Sheriff Bran headed away.
Alexander sighed.
“However?” I asked.
“He’s not our Unsub. He’s hiding something, but it isn’t the kidnappings. If he was the Angel Maker, he wouldn’t have gotten rid of the footage in such a ridiculously guilty way. He’s hoping I act on it. Perhaps, get a search warrant.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why yet, but if we push the Fullbrooke Six with Sheriff Bran I don’t think we’ll get any evidence of his involvement.” Alexander leaned back in his seat. “And that’s what he wants.”
“I don’t get it.”
“If I rush to the judge with my suspicions on him being a serial killer, a judge will look at me like I’m crazy. Even if one gives me permission to monitor him, I’m sure we won’t find anything dealing with the Fullbrooke Six.”
Missing Hearts Page 15