Winter Frost (A Chris Matheson Cold Case Mystery Book 2)

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by Lauren Carr




  WINTER

  FROST

  A Chris Matheson

  Cold Case Mystery

  By

  Lauren Carr

  WINTER FROST: Book Information

  All Rights Reserved © 2019 by Lauren Carr

  Published by Acorn Book Services

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

  For information, call: 304-995-1295

  or e-mail: [email protected].

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Designed by Acorn Book Services

  Publication Managed by Acorn Book Services

  [email protected]

  304-995-1295

  Edited by Jennifer Checketts

  [email protected]

  Cover designed by Acorn Book Services

  www/mysterylady.net/acorn-book-services

  ASIN: B07LF7TJ85

  Published in the United States of America

  Table of Contents

  WINTER FROST: Book Information

  Cast of Characters

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Check Out Lauren Carr’s Mysteries!

  Attention Book-Clubbers!

  The Root of Murder

  Cast of Characters

  The Geezer Squad

  Christopher Matheson (Chris): Single father of three girls. After his father’s sudden death, he retires from FBI and moves to family farm in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia.

  Francine Duncan: Retired investigative journalist from the Associated Press. Divorced children and grandchildren living with her.

  Jacqui Guilfoyle: Retired medical examiner from Pennsylvania. Widowed with no children. Lives alone in elegant home on a mountaintop overlooking Shenandoah Valley.

  Bruce Harris: Retired attorney general from Virginia. Owns a winery in Purcellville, Virginia. His wife is an architect with her own firm in Leesburg. Has son in college.

  Ray Nolan: Established cyber warfare task force after 9/11. Retired from Homeland Security after he took a bullet in the back from a home-grown terrorist. Lives with his daughter and her family.

  Elliott Prescott: Founding member of the Geezer Squad. He could tell you what he did before he retired, but then he’d have to kill you.

  Characters in Order of Appearance

  Blair Matheson: Chris Matheson’s wife. Communications officer with the state department. Left her family behind to take a position in Switzerland.

  Anne Kidman: CIA operative. Helps Blair in Nice, France.

  Emma (7 yrs old), Nikki (10 yrs old) and Katelyn (13 yrs old): Chris Matheson’s daughters.

  Helen Clarke: Lieutenant in charge of homicide with the West Virginia State Police. Chris’s girlfriend. Divorced with one daughter, Sierra, sixteen years old.

  Ripley Vaccaro: FBI agent. Chris’s former partner. Her daughter Madison is close friends with Katelyn, who is spending the weekend at the Vaccaro home.

  Leonardo Mancini: International hitman hired to assassinate Blair.

  Murphy Thornton: FBI agent? Or he could be CIA? Whoever he works for, he’s determined to get to the bottom of this case.

  Stephens: Murder victim. Investigator working for Senator Graham Keaton. Killed before he can meet with Anonymous.

  Hayes: Murphy’s partner in this assignment.

  Daniel Cross: Director of intelligence directorate at the CIA. Presidential nominee to lead the CIA.

  Ambassador John Brown: Ambassador in Lithuania. Killed in car bombing.

  Samuel Goldman: Chief of Station in Lithuania. Dies in car bombing with the ambassador.

  Sterling: Eccentric German shepherd. Retired law enforcement canine. Instagram model for Katelyn’s pet designer clothing line.

  Thor: Female fifteen-pound tan and white rabbit with long floppy ears. Usually seen wearing frilly pink clothes.

  Doris Matheson: Chris’s widowed mother and grandmother to his daughters. Her late husband was Kirk Matheson, captain of the West Virginia State Police’s local troop. Director of the Bolivar-Harpers Ferry Public Library.

  Sadie (Doberman) and Mocha (golden Labrador): Sadie was a retired law enforcement canine. Mocha was a retired search and rescue dog. Doris Matheson’s entourage.

  Nigel: Super Smart Artificial Intelligence.

  Tristan Faraday: Murphy’s brother-in-law. Nigel’s guardian.

  Les Monroe: Blair’s supervisor in Switzerland. Official reports say he committed suicide by shooting himself in the back three times.

  Ivy Dunleavy: Blair’s close friend. Married to high-profile attorney, who claims to be a fixer for billionaires.

  Stu Dunleavy: Ivy’s husband. High-profile attorney and fixer for billionaires.

  CO: Lady in the back of the limousine. Murphy’s commanding officer.

  Bernie: CO’s chauffeur and bodyguard.

  Senator Graham Keaton: Judiciary Committee Chairman. He tasks Stephens to investigate letter from Anonymous.

  Senator Kimberly Douglas: Minority leader for judiciary committee. Determined to get Daniel Cross confirmed no matter what.

  Oliver Hansen: Senator Graham’s assistant.

  Leban Slade: Billionaire. Major government contractor. Rumored to own several politicians and lawmakers.

  Jessica Faraday: Murphy’s wife. Tristan’s sister.

  Spencer: Murphy and Jessica’s blue merle sheltie. She’s got a crush on Sterling.

  Sierra: Helen’s sixteen-year-old daughter. Chris gives her horseback riding lessons.

  Paul Burnett: Officially, his company works in security. Unofficially, he’s a cleanup man for the rich and powerful. He knows where all the bodies are buried--literally.

  Sheriff Grant Bassett: Jefferson County Sheriff.

  Epigraph

  No man is above the law and no man is below it: nor do we ask any man’s permission when we ask him to obey it.

  Theodore Roosevelt

  Prologue

  Nice, France - Three Years Ago

  Blair Matheson parted the curtains only enough to peer across the street to the shore of the French Mediterranean. The beach was packed with people, natives and tourists alike, celebrating Basti
lle Day. Many were staking claim to the best spots to enjoy the fireworks.

  If it hadn’t been for the fear consuming her, Blair would have enjoyed the party atmosphere.

  “Get away from the window.” Anne Kidman pulled her back and closed the curtains. She emptied the contents of a thick padded envelope onto the hotel room desk. She held out her hand to Blair. “Give me your passport.”

  Blair hesitated.

  “They’re going to be looking for you. They will be tracking everything that has your name attached to it. Passport, credit cards, cell phones, driver’s license. The only way you can stay alive is to make Blair Matheson disappear.”

  Blair picked up her handbag from where she had dropped it onto the bed.

  “I’ve got a new passport and a whole new identity for you.”

  Blair wrapped her fingers around her cell phone and closed her eyes. She remembered the sweet sound of her daughters’ voices the day before. Their father was taking them to the mall in Washington to see the fireworks. Emma was so excited. Nikki had won a ribbon in barrel racing the weekend before at a horse show. Katelyn was mad because her father had said no to hair extensions. She prayed that one day she would hear their voices again.

  “I’m willing to bet they’re already tapping your family’s phone back in the States—just waiting for you to call them to trace the call to your location.” Anne grabbed the cell phone from her hand.

  “So if I call my husband—”

  “If you care about them, stay as far away as you can. These people wouldn’t hesitate to abduct your daughters to get to you.”

  “But—”

  “They’ve killed three people,” Anne said. “Human lives mean nothing to them.”

  “I need my phone.” Blair snatched it back. “We won’t be able to bring them down without it.”

  The meaning behind her words struck home. A slow grin crossed Anne’s lips. “Very well. Power it off.” She gave her another phone. “Use this one when you need to make a call.” She tapped the passport in Blair’s hand. “Until we can expose these people, this will be your new identity. Our people will notify your family that you’re away on assignment, so they won’t worry. You’ll get in touch with them when you can.”

  Blair examined the new passport and other identification. “This looks real.”

  “Because it is.” Anne stuffed her original documentation into her bag. “Don’t worry. All of this is only temporary. Once we expose and shut them down, then you can go back to being Blair Matheson.” She handed her the room service menu. “In the meantime, take advantage of the mini bar and get some rest. You’ll be able to see the fireworks from the balcony.” She headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Blair asked.

  “To meet a colleague of mine down on the beach,” Anne said. “He’s my Australian counterpart. These slime buckets have been working so hard to hide their dirty laundry from us that they haven’t noticed what our allies have been able to uncover. He’s going to fill me in with what they’ve got.” She thrust a semi-automatic handgun into her hand. “Remember, trust no one.”

  Blair shuddered while recalling the close call from the night before. Never had she seen a man senselessly gunned down. A man trying to do the right thing—because she convinced him that it was their moral obligation.

  That man was now dead.

  If she had not run into Anne Kidman, a CIA operative on assignment in the area, Blair had no doubt that she would not have made it through the night. Twenty hours later, she was in another country regretting her decision to leave her family behind for what was supposed to have been a golden career opportunity.

  She reached into her bra to extract the micro memory card on which she had copied the report and files and everything necessary to expose their sinister enterprise. How ironic that something so tiny contained the power to destroy so many lives.

  “You should take this.” She held it out to Anne.

  The agent folded Blair’s fingers over the disk. “You keep that. I’m more likely to get killed before you. If that happens, you need to get that to the Director of Central Intelligence in Washington. No one else. Her eyes only.”

  “But if—”

  “You’re going to make it, Blair.” Anne flashed her a wide grin. “You were savvy enough to escape an assassination attempt by yourself yesterday.” She hurried to the door. “Within twenty-four hours, you’ll hand that report off to the Director of Central Intelligence. You’ll be a hero. Then, you can start counting down the hours to when you can hug your family again.” She put her hand on the door handle. “Guard that disc with your life. Your country is counting on you.”

  Blair dared to peer through the curtains to the street down below. The crowd was even thicker than it had been earlier. In spite of that, she could pick out Anne, with her blond hair and slender figure, jogging across the busy street. She rushed into the arms of a tall, hunky man with a dark tan.

  Blair wondered if the kiss was part of their cover of being a romantic couple or if they were indeed more.

  They wrapped their arms around each other’s waists as they made their way down the street.

  The thunder of the motor vehicles clogging the street grew louder—as did the crowd. The joyous sounds turned into a cry of terror that reached up to the wide-open blue sky above as a white truck jumped the curb and plowed through the partiers.

  Blair’s chest tightened while she helplessly watched the truck ram into Anne and the Australian agent and roll over them before moving on to more victims.

  Dropping back from the window, Blair covered her mouth to hold back the high-pitched scream that exploded from inside her. She covered her ears. The wailing of the innocent people being murdered floated across the balcony and wrapped around her like a python squeezing every ounce of courage from her body.

  Thanking Chris for the hundreds of times he had dragged her out to the shooting range to teach her how to shoot, Blair wrapped her hand around the grip of the gun and clutched it to her chest.

  She could hear Anne’s voice in her ear as if she were alive and there in the room with her. Trust no one.

  Chapter One

  Pentagon City Fashion Center – Present Day

  “Dad, that’s so not cool.” With a frown, Katelyn Matheson shook her head.

  It was bad enough that Chris Matheson had decided to turn a drop off in the city into a date night with Helen Clarke. What made it worse was that he had also insisted on hanging around to wait for Madison, her best friend from her old school and, heaven forbid! speak to her mother.

  As if that wasn’t bad enough, Katelyn discovered that it was a real possibility that they would eat dinner in the very same shopping center where Madison might see them.

  “He’s pulling your leg, Katelyn,” Helen said when it looked as if the thirteen-year-old’s head might explode from the trauma. “We’re going to have dinner at an Italian bistro within walking distance of the Kennedy Center. Your father promised that it would be romantic.” She grinned at how his gray eyes twinkled.

  “You two can be so sickening sometimes.” Katelyn fought the grin fighting to cross her lips at how Helen gazed up at her father.

  Her dark eyes and hair gave Helen an exotic appearance. Also, she had a cool teenaged daughter, Sierra, who offered Katelyn fashion tips. Even though they lived in their own home, Helen and Sierra were almost like an extended family.

  Chris checked the time on his phone. “We may have to find a romantic hot dog vendor if Ripley and Madison don’t hurry up. The curtain goes up on the play in two hours.”

  Katelyn wrapped her arms around him. “Hug me now so we don’t have to when Madison gets here.”

  “Katelyn!” A teenaged squeal erupted from the direction of the exit to the parking garage.

  Katelyn pushed him away and the two girls embraced. In high pitched
voices, they talked over each other while firing off compliments on hairstyles, clothes, and make-up. While the adults couldn’t follow the simultaneous conversations, the teenagers could.

  When they stopped to take a breath, Madison turned to her mother, a slender woman dressed in a dark trench coat over slacks. She wore her service weapon holstered on her hip next to her federal agent’s shield. “I want to show Katelyn the shoes I’m saving up for. I suppose you want to talk business with her dad.” She rolled her eyes.

  Katelyn did likewise.

  Her mother took out her cell phone and swiped her thumb across the screen. “We’ll meet up here in one hour.”

  Katelyn shot Chris a warning glance when he moved in to hug her one last time. Adopting an exaggerated business-like expression, he shook her hand. “May the force be with you, Ms. Matheson.”

  Katelyn rolled her eyes again while Madison giggled. The two girls took off at a run toward the escalators leading to the upper levels of the fashion center. Quickly, they disappeared into the crowd of shoppers.

  Chris introduced Helen to Ripley Vaccaro. “Helen is in charge of homicide with the West Virginia state police in the eastern panhandle.”

  “I hope Chris isn’t using you to stick his nose into your cases?” Ripley said while shaking her hand.

  With a toss of her head, Helen laughed. “Sometimes I wonder if he does.” She shot him a grin. “Doesn’t really matter. He’s just so gosh darn cute when he gets nosy.”

  “I told him when he retired that he wouldn’t be able to hang up his badge for good.” With a wicked grin, Ripley admired his athletic build.

  Taking care of his mother’s horse farm kept Chris fit. He looked several years younger than his forty-seven years. A clue to his true age was his salt and pepper hair that reached the top of his collar. His gray double-breasted suit matched his eyes. The long red wool scarf added a dapper tone to his appearance for the evening out.

  “I thought you’d turn into a hayseed when you told me that you were moving back to the farm. I must admit, you’re looking good, Matheson.”

  “I clean up good.”

 

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