Scene of the Crime: Mystic Lake

by Carla Cassidy

  “Oh, she was. I always like to describe her as full Cherokee and part crazy. She was the most important person in my life.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “My father disappeared after impregnating my mother, and my mother was a crack addict who dropped me off at my granny’s place when I was three. I never saw her again. I figure she’s either dead or in prison.” She said the words as if she’d long ago made peace with the facts of her life.

  “You never tried to look for them? Your mother and father?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Why would I? They mean absolutely nothing to me. The best gift my mother could have given me was leaving me with Granny Nightsong and staying out of my life. I had a wonderful childhood with a woman who was strong and loving and just enough off center to be fun and exciting.”

  By that time, they had arrived at Bledsoe’s. The bar was housed in a low, flat building with blinking beer signs at every window. The parking lot was full of pickup trucks, a few rusted old cars and several motorcycles.

  “Wow, not exactly uptown, are we?” she muttered as they got out of the car.

  Next to the bar was an old, abandoned warehouse with broken windows and a gaping front door. Cole had suspected for some months that drug activity took place in the building, but he’d never managed to catch anyone using inside, although he’d often found drug paraphernalia.

  “This is an area of town I’d definitely like to see torn down and revitalized, but several of the town council members have interests in keeping Bledsoe’s here.”

  As they approached the front door of the bar, the sound of loud music spilled out along with the scents of booze, sweat and cheap cologne and perfume.

  Instinctively, he grabbed Amberly by the elbow as they entered, as if subtly marking his territory to anyone who might see them.

  She pulled away from him and beelined toward the bar, obviously not wanting him anywhere near her as she worked the room.

  He found a small table in the corner and sat. From this vantage point, he could see Amberly wherever she went unless she disappeared into the back room, where there were three pool tables.

  His stomach tightened as she sidled up to the bar and ordered a drink from Jeff Maynard. It was obvious she was flirting with him, and he was responding with more than a little bit of enthusiasm. At the same time, men moved in to flank each side of Amberly.

  Cole knew the men. One was Raymond Ross, a single male with a reputation for being a ladies’ man. The other one was Jimmy Tanner, a married man on the verge of divorce, according to local rumors. Both were good friends of Jeff’s and had professed to being with him at the poker game the night of Gretchen’s murder.

  If Amberly was going to get any information, she was standing in the right place at the right time. Still, as he watched Raymond lightly touch her on the small of her back, Cole wanted to jump out of his chair and tell Raymond to keep his filthy hands to himself.

  At that moment, Karen Kingman sauntered up to his table. Karen was well over fifty years old, and her face held the ravages of hard living, but she acted as if she was twenty-one and highly desirable.

  “Hey, Sheriff.” She batted her brown eyes. “As always, it’s good to see you.” She stood too close to him, invading his personal space as she leaned forward enough to flash him a view of her sagging, ample breasts. “What can I get for you?”

  There was no question that she was hoping he’d say an order of her to go, but he ordered a bottle of beer and breathed a grateful sigh as she moved away. He focused back on Amberly.

  She was now surrounded by half a dozen men, all obviously vying for her attention, and she appeared to be enjoying every minute of it. As he watched her toss her hair and laugh and accept a shot of something from Jeff, a rich desire for her flamed inside him. Yeah…him and every other man in the place, he thought ruefully.

  For the next two hours, Cole sat at his table, watching as Amberly downed one shot after another, danced with one man after another and appeared to get more and more drunk with each minute that passed.

  And Cole found his anger rising with each of those minutes that passed. What the hell did she think she was doing? How could she be effective doing her job with all the shots she’d consumed?

  Had she forgotten why they were here? What was at stake? She was here to try to get answers, and instead, she was accepting drinks, hips swaying to the music as men vied for her company on the dance floor. She was not only wasting his time, but she was making a mockery of what they were trying to do.

  By midnight Cole had had enough. Her cheeks were flushed, her natural grace gone as she stumbled between Jeff at the bar and Raymond and Jimmy. This had been a huge mistake.

  He obviously hadn’t known her well enough to trust this insane idea of hers. Dammit, he should have never agreed to this crazy plan.

  And now he needed to get her out of here before she fell flat on her face and passed out. He walked over to where she stood at the bar between Raymond and Jimmy.

  He took her firmly by the arm. “I think it’s time we call it a night?”

  “Ah, come on, Sheriff, it’s early yet,” Raymond said, his voice slightly slurred.

  Jimmy threw an arm over Cole’s shoulder, obviously more inebriated than his friends. “Yeah, don’t go yet. We like your friend.” He gave an exaggerated wink to Amberly, who giggled like a schoolgirl.

  Cole was disgusted with the lot of them, Amberly most of all. He tightened his grip on her arm. “Sorry, boys, I think she’s had more than enough for one night.”

  “The fuddy-duddy says it’s time to go,” Amberly said in dismay as Cole tightened his jaw. “But maybe I can come back tomorrow night.” She leaned heavily against Cole as if not quite sure she could stand on her own.

  As he led her to the door, he once again mentally cursed himself for agreeing to this plan in the first place. But the last thing he’d expected was his undercover agent to get totally wasted.

  He walked her to the passenger side of his car, her stumbling and giggling while he cursed beneath his breath. He should have done something sooner. When he’d seen all the shots being bought for her, he should have stepped in and halted the whole thing.

  They reached the passenger door. He opened it, but instead of sliding in, she grinned up at him. “You think I’m drunk, don’t you?”

  “I think you’re smashed,” he replied, his jaw tightening again.

  “Then I demand a Breathalyzer,” she exclaimed. Before he could guess her intentions, she reached up, leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his.

  He had no idea what she intended, wasn’t sure if she even knew what she was doing, but her mouth was hot and tasted faintly of tequila, and as she opened her lips beneath his, he took the invitation and deepened the kiss with his tongue.

  He wasn’t sure who halted the fevered moment of insanity, him or her, but suddenly he was staring at her in stunned surprise.

  “If you thought that would convince me that you’re sober, you’re definitely wrong,” he said. She slid into the car, and he slammed the door harder than necessary.

  As he walked around to the driver’s side, he realized what made him angry now was the fact that drunk or sober, he wouldn’t mind kissing her again.

  Chapter Four

  Amberly had no idea what had possessed her to kiss him.

  It certainly hadn’t been any alcohol that he thought she’d consumed. He slid behind the steering wheel and started the engine.

  “I’m not drunk,” she said. “And I should be livid that you’d think I’d get wasted when on an assignment.”

  “I saw the shots you drank.” His voice was terse as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Wrong. You saw the shots that were bought for me. You saw me holding those shots. You didn’t see me actually drinking them.”

  He flashed her a quick glance. “So, what happened to the shots?”

  “Part of them went on the floor, some of them went into tha
t ugly plant at the edge of the dance area and two of them went down the sink in the ladies’ room.”

  She noticed his hands slowly unclenching from the steering wheel. “You’re a very good actress,” he finally said.

  “That was my second career choice,” she replied, relieved that his anger seemed to be ebbing.

  “So, what about that Breathalyzer?” His voice held the faint edge of tension.

  “A moment of insanity. All women are allowed them occasionally.” She couldn’t explain it. She didn’t want to think about that brief kiss. His mouth had been hotter, hungrier than she’d expected, and she hadn’t wanted the kiss to end.

  Crazy.

  Maybe she’d consumed a little more of the alcohol than she thought she had. It was the only explanation for her sudden desire to feel his lips against hers.

  “Did you learn anything?” he asked.

  She was grateful to think of something other than that moment when his mouth had been on hers. “A little. I’ll trade you information for a cup of coffee at your place before I make the drive back to Kansas City.”

  “Sounds like a wise idea.”

  From his reply, she had a feeling he still thought she was a little bit inebriated. They didn’t speak again until they pulled up into his driveway. He cut the engine and turned to look at her. “Are you used to having that much male attention when you go out?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I don’t go out.”

  “Why not?” he asked in obvious surprise. “You’re young and attractive and single.”

  “I’m not looking for a man in my life. I have my work and my son and that’s enough. Marrying John was a mistake, and I tried to make it work for three years, but I’m not sure I believe in long-term relationships.”

  “That’s all I believed in until Emily’s murder.” He abruptly got out of the car, and she wondered if he was sorry he’d shared any personal information about himself and his marriage to the woman he’d loved.

  “So, why aren’t you in another relationship?” she asked as she followed him to the front door.

  “Just not interested,” he replied. He unlocked the front door and ushered her in before him. He led her to the kitchen, where she sat at the table while he made the coffee.

  She wanted to ask him about his marriage, wanted to know if the passion he’d felt for his wife when they had first married had carried through the years that they’d been together.

  Amberly only had her marriage to John as a reference point for the state of united bliss, and by no stretch of imagination had she felt bliss in that relationship. But there was something in Cole’s set features that forbade her to ask any more personal questions.

  Besides, she wasn’t here to learn about his private life. She was here to help him solve a crime and nothing more. She definitely shouldn’t be remembering the feel of his lips against hers. It was a useless waste of energy.

  It wasn’t until they each had a cup of coffee in hand and he was seated across the table from her that he spoke again. “So, what, if anything, did you learn?”

  “First of all, Raymond and Jimmy hated Gretchen with a passion. Both of them said she was a bitch who kept Jeff from spending time with his friends and controlled Jeff’s every move.”

  She paused a moment to take a sip of the coffee and then continued, “The fight that happened on the night of Gretchen’s murder wasn’t just between Jeff and Gretchen. Jimmy and Raymond were involved in the argument, as well.”

  “Interesting.” Cole cupped his large hands around his coffee mug. “The story I got at the time was the fight was strictly between Gretchen and Jeff, which is what put Jeff on the top of my suspect list when she wound up murdered. Now it sounds like I should have been looking more closely at Raymond and Jimmy.”

  “I wasn’t able to break the poker-game alibi, but my gut instinct says they’re lying about their whereabouts at the time of Gretchen’s murder. Unfortunately, we can’t arrest any of them on a gut instinct.”

  She took another sip of her coffee and found herself almost lost in the depths of his blue eyes. “Did you find any connection between the three of them and any of the other victims?” he asked.

  “No, but I think it’s worth looking into. The three of them definitely have a group mentality among them.”

  “Surely you aren’t suggesting that all three are guilty of these murders?”

  She leaned back in her chair and frowned thoughtfully. “There was nothing in any of the autopsy reports to indicate that the women were killed by more than one person. The knife wounds were consistent with a single killer. But that doesn’t mean that the others weren’t present when these women were killed, that it isn’t possible they were the cheerleaders, so to speak, for the person who actually accomplished the crime.”

  She shrugged. “It’s just another theory to consider or toss.”

  “At this point I think we have to consider everything and toss nothing,” he replied. “I definitely need to explore any relationship that might have existed between Jimmy, Jeff and Raymond and the victims.”

  “But we can’t get tunnel vision,” she replied. “It’s quite possible that none of those men had anything to do with the murders. It would be a mistake to focus all of our energy on them and not look elsewhere.”

  “I agree. I’ve set up a couple of appointments tomorrow to reinterview some of Barbara’s friends. I’m hoping that they might be able to tell me things about what was going on in Barbara’s life that her parents might not have known about, things they didn’t think about the night that my deputies spoke to them.”

  “I’d like to be there with you when you speak to them,” she replied.

  “Surely you’d rather have your weekend with your son.” He took a sip of his coffee and eyed her over the rim of the cup.

  “Max is used to spending the weekends with his dad. I’m free all day tomorrow, and I can’t think of anything I’d rather do or anyplace I’d rather be.” She leaned forward. “Cole, the time line worries me. I feel like every minute that passes brings us closer to another dead woman.”

  “Don’t worry, I feel the tick of a bomb about to explode, too,” he said grimly. “And on that note, you should probably get home and both of us should get some sleep. The first interview in the morning is at nine and it’s almost one-thirty now.”

  A wave of weariness struck her as she realized how late it had become. “Thanks for the coffee,” she said as she got up from the table.

  “Are you okay to drive home?” he asked as he walked her to the front door.

  She turned and smiled at him. “Still suspect I’m only pretending to be sober?”

  “No, and I apologize for doubting your work ethic.” He smiled, and it was the first time she thought she felt some warmth behind the gesture.

  And that warmth swirled around in her stomach, instantly evoking the memory of that brief kiss they’d shared. “I forgive you,” she said briskly. “And I’ll meet you at your office at nine in the morning.”

  Before he could even tell her goodbye, she turned and headed for her car in his driveway. Once she was on the highway heading home, she grabbed a piece of licorice from her console and chomped it down to nothing, hoping the taste would banish his taste from her mouth.

  It was just before two when she finally pulled into her driveway. She parked in the driveway and half stumbled with exhaustion to her front door.

  She had just unlocked her door when she thought she heard a rustling noise coming from the right corner of her house, where a large shrub stood sentry.

  There was no wind. She frowned, frozen for a moment. “Hello?” she called softly. “Is somebody there?”

  She remained frozen for several long moments but didn’t hear the sound again. She shoved her door open, deciding that it had probably been a figment of her exhausted mind.

  All she wanted was a hot shower and bed. She felt like she’d been pawed by creeps all night and was eager to wash the nasty scent of B
ledsoe’s and unwanted touches off her.

  Minutes later, as she stood beneath a hot shower, it wasn’t thoughts of the investigation or Bledsoe’s that filled her mind. Thoughts of Cole Caldwell and that crazy kiss they’d shared was all she could think about.

  In that brief taste of his mouth, she’d felt more passion spark inside her than in all the kisses she had ever shared with John. For that single moment, it had been wild, insane really, the desire that had erupted inside her for him.

  And she thought he’d felt it, too. She’d seen the stunned look in his eyes when the kiss had ended. Was it simply shock that she’d initiated a kiss with him at all, or had it been shock from the force of the chemistry that had sparked between them?

  She dunked her head under the water as if to wash away all thoughts of the hot, handsome sheriff. All he wanted from her was her expertise as a profiler, and all she wanted to do was solve this crime and get on with the next one.

  She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a large bath towel around her body. Quickly brushing her hair, she then braided it down her back. It would take hours to blow-dry it, so she often went to bed with a wet braid, which dried through the night while she slept.

  It was as she stepped into her bedroom that a shadow danced across her window. Her heart leaped into her throat. Somebody was outside of her house.

  With the towel still wrapped firmly around her, she picked up her purse and withdrew her gun and house keys and then headed for the front door.

  Her heart pounded as she unlocked her door and stepped outside in the darkness of the night. Had one of the men from the bar followed her back here? She didn’t know if it was fear or the coolness of the September night that danced chills up her spine.

  She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, then with her gun clutched tightly in her hand and ready for anything, she stepped off her front porch.

  Moving to the area where she thought she’d heard the rustling noise when she’d first arrived home, she whirled around the corner of the house and breathed a quick sigh of relief as she saw nobody lurking in the shadows.