Sinister Secrets

by Amanda McKinney

  She glanced at the massive front doors gleaming in the sunlight. “Planning to sneak my way into an autopsy.”

  “Good luck with that, and that reminds me, I need to pick up eggs. See ya later.”

  Click.

  She tucked her phone into her purse and stepped through the front doors.

  “Good morning, Miss Monreau.”

  She smiled at the guard. “Morning, Tom. How are you?”

  “Can’t complain. Especially when I start my day seeing a beautiful woman like you.”

  She smiled. “Such a charmer.”

  He chuckled. “My wife thinks so, too.”

  A group of scientists pushed through the door behind her, each on their cell phone, each with an urgency in their step that suggested another day of tireless dedication to solving some of the most heinous crimes in the country. She walked to the front desk.

  “Well, hey, there, Fiona!” April, the busty, red-headed receptionist looked up from her computer.

  “Already busy this morning?”

  “This place never sleeps, you know that.”

  “Yes, I do. Is Max in?”

  “Always.”

  Just then, the elevator dinged, and Max Blackwood, the director of Graves, stepped out of the shiny silver box scolding someone on his cell phone. Almost as smart as he was handsome, Max was a forty-something bachelor who spent the majority of his time behind the lab’s four walls. A former medical examiner, Max was the go-to for all things Black Rose needed from the facility.

  He cursed under his breath as he clicked off the phone. His gaze met Fiona’s, and a smile cracked the stress on his face.

  “Miss Monreau, please excuse my language. That was one of my vendors wanting to raise the price on one of our pieces of equipment.”

  “Not a day goes by that I don’t hear son of a bitch, Max. You’ve met Dixie, right?”

  He laughed. “That girl has a special place in my heart.” He frowned. “What brings you in today?”

  “Joel Davis.”

  “Ah, yes. Former FBI agent. Bullet to the head.”

  “Have you started the autopsy?”

  He glanced at his Rolex. “Should be just finishing up.”

  “Just finishing up?”

  “That’s right. Started at six this morning. We moved him to the front of the line considering it’s a federal investigation.” He cocked his head. “You’re former FBI, right?”

  “Yes, well, the Knight sisters hired me right after I graduated from the academy.”

  “Good move. No doubt a decision that prolonged your life. Did you know him?”

  “I did. Which is why I was hoping to sit in on the autopsy.”

  “Well, maybe you can catch the finale. Head up to my office. My assistant, Sasha, will get you all checked in and escort you down. Second level basement, I believe.” His phone rang.

  “Thanks, Max. I owe you.”

  “Caramel Macchiato. Extra caramel drizzle,” he said as he stepped away.

  April sent her a wink. “I’ve got you all checked in down here.” She pressed a red button. “Head on up. You know where to go.”

  “Thanks, April.”

  Six very efficient minutes later, Fiona stepped off the elevator to the second level of the basement and immediately shivered.

  “Cold down here, isn’t it?” Sasha, Max’s ridiculously gorgeous Russian assistant motioned to a closet. “We have courtesy coats if you’re interested?” Her accent was even sexier than the sharp lines of her face.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Okay, this way, please.”

  Sasha led her down a long, dim hallway lined with windows that gave glimpses into the top-of-the-line laboratories in the facility. She zeroed in on someone dressed in a hazmat suit peering into a magnifying glass, surrounded by red biohazard waste containers.

  She caught Sasha eyeing her. “Don’t worry, that lab is airtight. Ah, here we are. Looks like they’ve just finished up.” Sasha swiped her badge and opened the last door on the left. “Go on in.”

  “Thanks, Sasha.” The door closed behind her, and her stomach dropped.

  Standing behind a thick pane of glass that overlooked the autopsy room, Officer Caleb Hunter and Noah glanced toward the door as it clicked shut behind her.

  Something flashed in Noah’s eyes the moment he saw her.

  “Missed the action,” Caleb said with a smile, his green eyes bright and alert, regardless that it was just past dawn. But that was Caleb. A former military intelligence officer, Caleb was always ready, always thinking, analyzing, and always on “go”, which reflected in his zero-percent body fat physique.

  She tore her gaze away from Noah.

  “Didn’t realize they’d started so early.”

  “Dr. Wu moved Joel to the front of the line. Fox here can be pretty convincing.”

  “I can imagine.” Her gaze flickered to Noah. “I didn’t expect to see either of you here, actually.”

  “I’m working with Zander on Misti’s case, and Noah asked me to sit in on Joel’s autopsy to see if there’s any similarities, or if we can form a solid connection to both homicides.”

  She looked through the glass at the autopsy table where Joel’s gray, lifeless body lay on a shiny silver table. Her stomach did a dip. The once full-of-life FBI agent now had a Y-incision across his chest and down his stomach. The forensic medical examiner was just finishing up the last stitch. A line of stitches ran the crown of his head. Thank God she’d missed seeing his brain pulled onto the table. Fiona had been to a dozen autopsies, but she’d never known one of the bodies personally. It made it different. Like a grotesque invasion of privacy.

  “Did Wu retrieve the bullet?”

  “Yep. We’re looking for a 380 ACP Semi-Automatic. Wu’s already called someone down from ballistics to pick it up. We’ll run the markings through the system to see if we get a match.”

  She looked at Noah, who nodded—not a 9mm. So, definitely not Shay’s gun that killed Joel.

  “Time of death?”

  “As they expected, sometime around midnight last night,” Noah said.

  “That aligns with Misti’s murder. ME says Misti was killed around ten.” Caleb added.

  “So if there is a link, she was killed first, and Joel after.”

  “Right.”

  “Where’s Shay?”

  “Home. We didn’t have enough to hold her on, so we advised her to stay in town until we wrap up the investigation. Bottom line, her alibi checks out, Cohen and Packer check out, and there’s no way to confirm if she left Cohen’s house for a few hours. Not right now, anyway.”

  “When is Misti’s autopsy?”

  “This afternoon.”

  She looked at Noah. “You going?”

  “We’ll see what the afternoon brings.”

  She nodded, understanding how investigations can get derailed a hundred times in one day. “What about Joel’s tox?”

  “Running that now.” Noah said.

  “Did Joel have any other injuries?”

  A group of new-hires poked their head in the room, then backed away. It was time for the next examination. Caleb nodded toward the hallway. Noah motioned her to go ahead of him, and she was intensely aware of his stare on her back.

  The group exchanged nods and stepped into the viewing room and closed the door after Noah walked out.

  They fell into step together.

  “No other injuries. But Dr. Wu found traces of polyurethane in his hair and on the bottom of his shoes. The tip and heel, specifically.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “A tarp.”

  Noah nodded.

  “Possibly shot somewhere else, rolled up, and dumped into the ravine to throw you off.”

  “Although not dumped,” Noah said. “The traces on his toe and heel indicate he was dragged, while wrapped in the tarp.”

  She frowned. “Joel’s, what? Over two-hundred pounds?”

  “One-ninety-eight.”

  “That’s a
lot of dead weight.” Which now made Shay more and more less likely to be their killer. “Had to be someone with some strength.”

  “Or, two people,” Caleb said.

  Noah shook his head. “If two people dragged him, there’s a high chance we would’ve seen grip marks on either side of his body. My guess is someone hauled him over their shoulder, then dragged him into place, sitting up to look like he was forced to sit then shot point blank.”

  “Still,” Fiona said. “How did they get his dead body down into the ravine?”

  “The ravine lifts about a half-mile from where you found him.” Noah cut her a glance. “Isn’t that how you got down there?”

  She quickly glanced down. “That’s right. Yes.”

  A moment of silence slid by.

  “So if no other injuries, it means that either he knew whoever shot him, or was caught off guard and killed.” She said.

  “Just like Misti Seager.”

  “And this still isn’t enough to officially link both homicides?”

  “No.” Caleb’s eyebrows tipped up. “But the fact that Misti was visiting the hotel Joel was staying in the night he was murdered is pretty damn telling.”

  Noah quickly glanced away, and she noticed. She stared at him a moment.

  They stepped to the elevator and Caleb hit the button. The door slid open to Sasha’s smiling face.

  “Hi, there. Was just coming down to check on you, Miss Monreau. Were you able to get what you needed?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Perfect.” Her gaze flickered to Noah. “Have a nice day.”

  Fiona stepped into the elevator, followed closely by Caleb and Noah. Noah slipped past her, and she caught the faintest smell of soap. Her pulse picked up. He maneuvered behind her, settling in a mere inch from her. She could practically feel the sexual heat bouncing between them. There was no way in hell he didn’t feel it.

  Her cheeks were flushed by the time they arrived at the lobby.

  Caleb’s phone rang. “It’s Zander. I gotta get this.” He glanced at Noah. “Thanks for letting me sit in. We’ll catch up in a bit.”

  Noah nodded and after Caleb walked away, looked at Fiona. “You must have connections here.”

  “I have connections everywhere.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, the slightest look of amusement in his eyes. “Use your connections to push Joel’s tox through, then.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  They began walking through the marble lobby. It was only eight in the morning and Graves was already buzzing with activity. Always a dead body to analyze.

  She continued, “But, I thought you didn’t entertain the idea that Joel was into drugs.”

  “That’s right, I don’t.” They pushed out the front doors. The morning clouds had blended together, blocking the sun and setting the tone for yet another overcast day. “But a tox will confirm that for anyone else who suspects it.”

  They passed the fountain and began descending the steps that led to the parking lot.

  “What was that look about?” She asked.

  “What look?”

  “When Caleb implied the link between Misti and Joel was evident because she was on camera walking toward his motel room?”

  “There was no look.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “I might not be the best at choosing appropriate footwear for a stakeout, but reading people? That I can do.”

  The corner of his lip curled up, and he looked her up and down. Warmth spread over her and she realized how much of an impact this guy had on her. A simple once-over sent her into a sexual frenzy.

  She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. “Come on. What was the look about?”

  He stared at her for another minute, then said, “Misti wasn’t there to see Joel.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because Joel was never there.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because during my deep-dive into his bank accounts last night, I’ve got him on camera pulling money from an ATM at the exact time Misti was visiting the Towering Pines. He was sixteen miles away.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not done. I have him getting gas sixty-eight miles away earlier, then hundreds of miles north the day before.”

  “He drove down from DC.”

  “Yep. So his car is here somewhere. Also,” he inhaled. “Joel was in debt.”

  “How in debt?”

  “Two-hundred and seventy-six thousand dollars in debt.”

  “What?”

  “He liked the tables.”

  “A gambling addiction.”

  “Yes, capped off by getting laid off. He has several accounts. One has been in the red for months.”

  She shook her head.

  “My guess is he never even went to the Towering Pines.”

  “Which means he booked the room for someone else.”

  “Exactly. That’s who we need to find. That person knows something.” His phone dinged. He checked it, then slid it back into his pocket.

  “Okay then, so we know Joel had reserved a room for someone the night he was murdered. So, someone came into town for something, and my gut tells me it’s for that gala. We also know Misti, a presumed hooker, had a ticket to the same gala for the night she was murdered, which happened to be the same night Joel died. The link is the gala.”

  Noah nodded. “I’m headed to chat with Senator Norris now. I should be getting the list of attendees within the hour.”

  “You’re going to see Norris?”

  “A hooker who was strangled to death had a ticket to an event he put on, the same night Joel was murdered. Yeah, I’m paying him a visit. Someone in his camp gave her that ticket.”

  They stopped at his rental car parked in the front row, indicating he’d been at Graves since before the sun came up.

  “I’ll give you the list if you let me go with you,” she said.

  “You’ve got the… how the hell?”

  “My sources are faster than yours. I also have the list of people who actually attended, didn’t just buy tickets.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Get in.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Fiona pulled up her email and scanned the list. “Joel didn’t have a ticket, or attend.”

  “Didn’t think we’d get that lucky. What about Shay?”

  “Nope.”

  “Anyone else stick out?” He slipped through security and pulled onto the road.

  “The mayor, of course. A few state reps… no one else jumps out.”

  His phone rang. “Plug the address into the GPS. I’ve got to take this call.”

  Twenty-seven minutes later, Noah slid his rental into the State Capitol parking garage. He turned off the engine and proceeded to finish the last in a series of phone calls he’d taken from the moment they’d left Graves. Not that Fiona minded much. It gave her time to catch up on the million unanswered emails she had. It also gave them both a distraction from the giant pink elephant still standing stubbornly between them, which had doubled in size since he’d almost kissed her in the woods not twelve hours earlier.

  After that almost-kiss, she went straight home and replayed the moment a hundred times in her head. After two glasses of Italian wine, she’d convinced herself that regardless if Noah Fox was interested in her, it was never going to work between them. Why? Because Noah lived in DC and traveled all the time. He was also older, with a failed marriage under his belt. Men like that carried a lot of baggage—and Noah’s baggage manifested itself in being one of the most emotionally unavailable men she’d ever met. There was no way in hell she was going to subject herself to the time and emotional toll it would take to break down those walls. Or, hell, even just put a crack in them.

  She’d been down that road before. It was a long, bumpy, curvy road with potholes every few feet. Nope, no way she was doing that again. She had enough on her plate, anyway. No time for a relationship.

  No mat
ter how badly she really wanted one.

  Noah finally clicked off his phone. “Alright, let’s go see what Norris has to say.”

  After breezing through security with Noah’s FBI badge, they stepped up to Senator Norris’s office. She heard muffled voices behind the closed door. Agitated muffled voices. She glanced at Noah, who knocked, unfazed by the sharp tones on the other side of the door.

  The conversation halted, and a moment passed.

  He knocked again.

  “Is he expecting—

  The door opened. “Noah.” A relaxed smile crossed the Senator’s face.

  Her eyebrows tipped up. They knew each other? Another interesting tidbit he’d left out.

  She quickly scanned the room. Two men in suits, one flushed with emotion as he forcefully stuffed crinkled papers into a folder, the other scrolling through a cell phone. And a woman, dressed impeccably in a blue power-suit flickered a glance at Noah before quickly shutting down her laptop.

  “Senator Norris, this is Fiona Monreau, FBI.”

  He’d left out “former” in her title, but that was just fine with her. They shook hands as Norris frowned and focused on Noah.

  “Two FBI agents. There goes my assumption you were coming by for a drink.” The senator cast a look over his shoulder. “Sorry, just having a quick staff meeting. Guys, give me a sec.” As they filtered out, he made the introductions. “Special Agent Fox, Agent Monreau, this is my Chief of Staff, Patrick Brown.”

  The man’s jaw clenched, and Fiona swore his cheeks began to flush as he locked eyes on Noah. She looked at Noah, whose hostile expression matched the mans. They stared at each other a moment before finally, Patrick stretched out his baseball-glove-sized hand.

  “Agent Fox.” He growled.

  “I see you found your keys,” Noah said in a low voice, with just a hint of cockiness.

  The flush on Patrick’s face slowly lowered to his neck.

  Norris cleared his throat. “And of course, you know my Director of Scheduling, Steph Kelley, and my Communications Director, James Miller.”

  Steph batted her long, faux eyelashes and tipped her head to the side, her hot-rolled, blonde hair spilling over her shoulder. “Good to see you again, Agent Fox.”

  Fiona glanced at Noah and felt a twinge of jealousy. The girl was gorgeous, no doubt about that, and she wondered exactly how they knew each other.