by Danae Ayusso
“What’s at the end of the road?”
She shrugged. “From what Fury said, the old Mayor’s estate, but it’s been closed up for twenty years because of a murder-suicide: the family by the not-reelected mayor.”
Salvati smiled wide. “That wasn’t on the sites of Eureka brochure.”
“I’m sure the Eureka Tourist Bureau simply overlooked the appeal of a house of death in their lovely community.”
They both looked down the road before looking at each other then laughed.
“After you,” Salvati said, opening the driver’s side door for her.
“Screw you! You drive. My ass is numb.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said and she crawled over to the passenger side.
The drive up the road was bumpy, made Cat want to throw up the prima colazione and fette biscottate they ate as an early evening snack between crime scenes, and caused her body to ache. After the ungodly drive to each site, something she had already done with Colt but seemed exceptionally torturous without him, she had no doubt that Pope was local because only a local could find the sites and not be able to leave a trail.
The road ended when it literally ran into the sheer side of a mountain marking the end of Eureka.
“That wasn’t what I was expecting to find in the least,” Salvati said with a chuckle.
“Me neither. Fury said there was a gate that barred the entrance….over there,” she said, pointing to the left where a barely visible tangle of metal stuck out from the overgrown bushes.
“Rossi, no one’s breeched that in twenty years,” he said.
“Maybe that’s what Pope wants us to think?” Cat countered, looking over at him.
He huffed and got out of the Bronco and she followed.
The overgrown grass smelled heavily of mold, something pungent, hid a deceptively deep bog, and wrapped around their legs as they trudged through the only visible path to the rusted gate. Cat tried to see through the mass of trees that, at one time, bordered the long driveway to the estate, now the two hundred year old trees were nothing more than a tangle of razor sharp branches hanging down to the muddy driveway.
“I. So. Want. A. Divorce.” Salvati panted when they reached the gate.
Cat rolled her eyes then looked around. “Huh, too bad we didn’t see that all of twenty minutes ago,” she dryly commented and pointed to the narrow compacted dirt path snaking around the side of the sheer rock face. It was completely invisible from the road, but to the person that cut it with an ATV it wouldn’t be hard to find. She sniffed when a new scent presented, and she followed it along the rusted rod iron fencing until she found the source.
“Is it a body?” Salvati asked.
“Yeah, it is,” she said and squatted down to examine the mass of hair. “Nato, I need you to take me back to the cabin before you make the call to get a full forensics team and back up down here.”
He looked over her shoulder and made a face. “For that?” he complained. “What is that?”
“A Jack Russell Terrier named Jasper,” she said, flipping the silver bone shaped tag over on what was left of its collar. “This was Five’s dog, and there is no way in hell it got all the way out here without a little help. That, and its throat was slashed. I think we found Pope’s base of operation.”
“What are we waiting for?” Salvati asked, pulling his sidearm.
Cat looked through the trees again, if she stayed squatted by the remains of the Jack Russell Terrier, and from that angle, she could catch a glimpse of the boarded up estate in the distance. “This doesn’t feel right, Nato. Not at all. It’s too damn easy. That could be why Six and Seven were hastily done, because he voluntarily gave up his base of operation.”
“But we didn’t find it until now. Nearly a month later,” he pointed out.
“That was our mistake, not his. We need to get backup. I’m not about to lose you like I lost Frankie, got it?” She looked up at him. “I love you, but I’m not about to bury you, too. Get your ass back in the Bronco.”
****
Colt stood on the bed and looked out the small jail cell window. The town was quiet, most likely people were hiding since Pope struck again, another local this time, and that tended to keep them in for a few nights. He was tired, hungry, lonely, irritated, but most of all, he missed Cat.
Earlier that morning, when the alarm on her watch went off, signaling that they had to get going so Colt wasn’t late for work, he had never wanted to stay in bed and do nothing all day, every day, for the rest of his life then he had at that moment. Cat was curled up against his side completely naked, the thin white sheet covering them had loosely fallen down her body as she slept; the small fireplace in the middle of the Ranger station and the impressive insulation made the small room a warm eighty-degrees so anything more than a sheet wasn’t required. In her sleep, Cat softly purred, her fingers absently caressing the ridge of his jaw, and the feel of her soft body wrapping around his in a moment of non-sexual bliss was beyond words. She looked like an angel, his angel. He’d waken an hour earlier and just laid there watching her sleep, committing the moment to memory, trying his damnedest to remember every last detail of their time together so that moment would forever be with him.
And it was that moment, that engrained memory, which was haunting him now.
The door at the end of the hallway opened and he turned to see Agent Gerard walking towards his cell. Agent Gerard pulled the chair from the corner and made himself comfortable in front of Colt’s cell.
“Agent,” Colt greeted, turning his attention back out the window.
“Detective,” Agent Gerard greeted in return. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that withholding information in an active investigation is a criminal offense, one that gives me probable cause to search your residence.”
“I suppose it did,” Colt agreed, not liking where this was going, but he and Cat had already deduced that it could happen to both of their residences.
“Of course all we could look for were fingerprints, hair samples, DNA, blood, semen, the lightening agent used on the eyes, glue, barbwire, knives, scalpels…the typical in a murder investigation. And do you know what we found, Detective?”
“Jimmy Hoffa?”
“Nothing,” Agent Gerard said, not amused in the least. “Not only didn’t we find any trace evidence of any of the victims or crimes, but we found not one hair of yours, not one fingerprint of yours, nothing that would confirm that you even lived there. Why is that?”
Because I started following Rossi’s wipe everything down and don’t leave any trace evidence behind mentality. That, and Rossi completely scrubbed the cabin from top to bottom after she discovered some sick sonuvabitch watched us make love.
“Sounds like you need a better forensics team,” Colt said.
Agent Gerard glared at him. “Where have you been staying, Detective?”
“In the cabin, Agent,” he said. “My name is on the deed, after all.”
“This is not a game,” Agent Gerard snapped.
Colt turned to regard him. “Do you see me laughing? I lost my goddamn best friend and the woman I was supposed to marry. I lost a good, hardworking, decent deputy. Every person that Pope has taken from us has left nothing but heartache and misery behind. Why don’t you try turning your attention to where it belongs, and stop trying to prove you have the bigger cock? I wear a size thirteen and my hands are twice as big as yours so I guarantee you won’t measure up.”
Now I’m invoking my inner Rossi, that’s just lovely.
Agent Gerard studied him intently. There was something there, he knew there was, but he didn’t know exactly what, and that was pissing him off. He felt as if something was staring him right in the face, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“You were with someone,” Agent Gerard said, trying a different tactic. “Someone you weren’t supposed to be with, and that’s why you won’t give us the name of your alibi.”
Colt smiled. “If that was the ca
se, Agent, I’d gladly take the rap for all seven victims if it meant keeping them from being the next. Now if there is nothing else,” he said and turned his attention back out the window.
That wasn’t what Agent Gerard was expecting to hear, and it only confirmed what he suspected—that Colt had an alibi who could confirm his whereabouts on the nights in question—but it told the Agent much more than the irritable Detective wanted him to know.
He put the chair back and headed down the hall towards the door, but stopped when he reached it. “Agent Salvati called for a forensic team and a SWAT team to go out to the old estate on Elkhart Drive. He found the body of the Jack Russell Terrier that the fifth victim lost. I just thought you’d like to know.”
Colt didn’t want to know, not in the least, and he knew that it wasn’t Salvati that found the dog’s body, it was Cat. “When I was a kid, a few of us went into that old estate. The fire tore through most of it, it’s a hollowed shell on the first floor with heavily barred doors and windows, but if you go around to the back of the estate, there’s an earthen cover over the root cellar. About twenty feet in on the western wall you’ll find a steel plate cover, which hides the dumbwaiter. It’s a crank system so you won’t need power, but you can only fit on person at a time in it. Good luck.”
Agent Gerard looked back to the cell at the end of the hallway. “Is that a confession?”
“Of breaking and entering when I was fourteen?” Colt asked with a chuckle. “Sure. But statute of limitations might feel otherwise about you trying to charge me with that now. I look forward to reading your report, Agent.”
Once the door closed behind him, Colt fought the urge to punch the wall.
I knew it! I should have listened to Rossi and checked out the damn estate instead of dismissing her suggestion. Damn it. I know she isn’t there now, she wouldn’t be that stupid. I know she wouldn’t go into the place without back up. She isn’t willing to risk another Frankie, and that annoying Italian is Frankie’s twin from what I can tell.
Damn it! I need out of this cage and see her. I have to see her. I need to see her… Where in the hell is Jimmy? He was supposed to be back with those reports three or four hours ago. Did he jump on the Elkhart process the scene bandwagon and forget that I needed those damn requisitions?
Goddamn blond.
Scratching on the window caused Colt to jump, startled.
Pressed against the glass was a pale face with murky brown eyes, and a black beanie covered blonde hair.
Cat waved and Colt smiled.
‘You can’t be here,’ he mouthed, making sure that he was out of the line of sight of the cameras.
She rolled her eyes.
‘I miss you,’ he mouthed.
‘I miss you, too,’ she mouthed in return. ‘Soon. I promise.’
Colt placed his hand on the window and she placed her gloved hand over it. ‘Be safe.’
‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ She made a face and rolled her eyes.
He chuckled. ‘Gigantic pain in the ass. I love you.’
‘You have moments. I’ll check on you later,’ she said and lowered her hand. She gnawed on her thumb before huffing. ‘I just needed to see you…’
Her silent admission caused his heart to swell in his chest.
Colt nodded then watched her look around at everything before she took off running across the street and her black clothing made her seemingly disappear into the night.
“I love you,” he whispered aloud, pulling his hands over his face in frustration.
****
“Can you believe it? The old estate on Elkhart?” James said excitably between bites of pork chop and mashed potatoes.
Emma sighed. “That place should have been torn down years ago, especially after what happened to Marty and his family. That was just horrible.”
Cat was only partially paying attention as she absently pushed her food around her plate, her appetite had long left her the moment she discovered Colt was in jail. She missed him, something that she had never experienced before with someone she was intimate with. Yes, she missed Frankie, but she missed him in a brotherly-partners context, not the empty feeling in her heart context that she’s feeling now.
Fury looked okay, for the most part. That window needs washed because I couldn’t see his deep brown eyes through the glass, but… This is entirely my fault. I shouldn’t have let him go completely paperless…then again, Fury is a paperless type of man, regardless for his reasons behind it. God, I wish those two nights wouldn’t have ended. It was, by far, the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me. The Rangers’ station was small and bare of modern frivolities; we didn’t even turn on the lights the entire time we were there. Only the water heater was used for the many showers we took together where we just held each other and kissed, caressed and made love under the spray of the hot water. He surprised me with breakfast in bed and tucked a wildflower behind my ear as I drank my coffee…
The way he looks at me, no one has ever looked at me like that before. Damn it. I didn’t come to Eureka to fall in love.
Cat’s fork slipped from her hand and clinked against her plate as the realization hit her.
I’m in love with Colt Fury…I’m in love.
“Are you all right, Sweetheart?” Emma asked.
Cat shook her head. “Not even close.”
“She’s probably upset about Colt,” James said between bites. “From what Agent Gerard said, Colt all but confessed to all seven bodies.”
“What?” Cat and Emma yelled in unison.
He shrugged. “In not so many words, but he said he’d gladly take the rap for all seven bodies if it meant keeping someone from being the next victim… Do you know what he was talking about?”
Emma shook her head and dabbed her eyes with her napkin.
Fury, you dumb sonuvabitch! You can’t be serious… Oh my god. He loves me that much? It isn’t his reputation that he gives a damn about or is worried about saving, it’s me.
It’s me.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” Cat whispered.
James stood up when she did. “Where are you going? We haven’t even had dessert yet. And I thought you’d want to hear all about what they’re recovering at the old mayor’s estate since you love crime thrillers so much.”
The knot in Cat’s stomach warned her to run to Colt and tell him she loves him before it was too late, but she didn’t want to put even more suspicion on him.
Cat forced a smile and sat back down. “Sorry, I’m not much of a pork chop person and I think I pulled something running today,” she said; it wasn’t a total lie, her side was killing her. “Why would they have gone up to that place? I thought you said it was just some exterior walls and boarded up windows.”
James made a face. “That’s all it is, but one of those annoying FBI agents started retracing each crime scene and found that dog Joanne lost.”
“Joanne, she was the fifth victim?” Cat asked, playing dumb since she was way too versed in the actual case, and if she appeared as anything but ignorant, it would cause much unwanted attention.
He nodded and shoved a bite of cinnamon apples in his mouth.
Emma shook her head. “Hopefully they’re closer to catching that sonuvabitch and they’ll pull their heads out of their asses and let my grandson go.”
“Grandmother,” James scolded.
“What? Colt didn’t do anything but be the man I always knew he could be. And Pope is a sonuvabitch, and he picked the perfect place to do his dirty, evil deeds. That estate was built by the Devil himself!”
Cat gave her a look. “You finished off that bottle of wine I let breathe in the kitchen, huh?”
Emma smiled wide. “Of course, you can’t let perfectly good wine just sit there.”
Cat gave her a look. “What’s so special about that burned out estate minus what happened there?” she asked as uninterested as possible while she poked at her mashed potatoes.
“Nothing really,�
�� James said.
“Bullshit,” Emma snapped at him. “Jimmy stayed with Marty when he was younger a couple of times, but there was just something off about that family. You have to remember, Cat, that everyone knows everyone and there was only one school in Eureka so there were sleepovers, Boy Scouts, Peewee football, Bible Camp, all sorts of things that put kids at each other’s houses… The family that lived there, they started out good people but then they were-”
“Murdered?” Cat offered and James choked. “Mickey told me that everyone at that house was taken out in a murder-suicide arson crime.”
Emma nodded. “It was tragic. Funny thing is, they never recovered the gun.”
Now she had Cat’s entire attention. “How is that even possible?”
She shrugged. “Ask the expert in law enforcement,” she said, turning to James.
James gave her a look. “Grandmother, why are we talking about something so disturbing at the dinner table? Marty was my friend, and I still miss him. He could have been an amazing man, but he never got the chance because he was taken from us.”
Huh, that is a little… I swear to God he sets my gaydar off like the Grand Marshall in the Pride Parade.
“What happened exactly?” Cat whispered, appearing empathetic.
James gave her a look. “The Mayor went crazy and shot his wife, daughters, son, caught the living room on fire before shooting himself. Case closed.”
Case closed? He cannot be that stupid. How in the hell do you kill your family, then set your house on fire before shooting yourself in the head and yet the gun wasn’t recovered? That doesn’t make sense in the least. Even with backwoods police work like this department is notorious for that doesn’t make sense in the least.
Yet another thing to smack Fury upside the head bout.
“Eureka has a rather high crime rate for such a small town,” Cat said conversationally. “The serial killer and three more bodies and the bar was robbed…that’s just what’s happened since I’ve been here. The winter months are usually quiet, I take it?”
That winter James was actually complaining every Sunday night about how criminals obviously took the winter off, if only he could as well.