Sinner Realized

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Sinner Realized Page 27

by Morgan Kelley


  They stared at him.

  Cliff pointed. “Each wall is color coded. The pink one is easy and black is killer. I’ve climbed against him and for three years, he pulled pink. That’s just crazy. The man had to be cheating.”

  Nate looked up. “So, you hated him because he was a cheater?”

  “Hate is a strong word, but yes, I guess I did! If by some miracle you did manage to beat him, he’d lose it. Once, he threw a water bottle at a woman who he climbed with. Apparently, she got in his way on the couple climbs and he lost it.”

  Curious.

  “What happened after his temper tantrum?” Quinn asked.

  “She left crying, and he left in a rage. Then, she quit coming here. We never saw her again. It’s not that I can blame her. That was first class humiliation. It’s one thing to lose to him, but to be berated like that had to suck.”

  “So, he was a pain in your ass.”

  The man whistled and waved a few other employees over. “Guys, these men are asking about Christian. They want to know what we all thought of him.”

  The group of four people began laughing. Then, they noticed the two men weren’t.

  “Please tell them what he was like to be around.”

  One by one, they each gave them a colorful word to describe their dead guy.

  Bastard.

  Jerk.

  Asshole.

  Cheater.

  Sexist pig.

  Yeah, there was no love lost for their dead Marine. When they came in they didn't expect to have the haters crawling out of the woodwork.

  Now, they had their work cut out for them. It appeared that Christian had the potential to have many people with a motive to kill him.

  “We’re going to have to ask you all some questions. I hope you don’t mind,” Quinn said, pulling out his badge and making the introductions.

  When they groaned, it made it that much more amusing.

  Hopefully, they’d get something to point them in a direction that would lead someplace.

  If not, this was one hell of a waste of their time.

  * * * C a r t e r C h r o n i c l e s * * *

  Friday Afternoon

  Callie had to admit that she couldn’t wait until the men returned. She tied up a few loose ends, like finding out that Bruce Mclead did indeed have a permit to carry a concealed weapon. Instead of relaxing her, it caused more questions.

  Why wasn’t he armed at the time of the attack, since he wasn’t, why didn't he go for a weapon? There were just so many puzzling questions yet to be answered. From the crime scene pictures, there were guns randomly placed around the house—including under the cushion of the couch right next to where the victim had been kneeling.

  Picking up the phone, Callie opted to call the base and talk to the colonel. When he wasn’t available, she opted to go with the next best bet.

  Sergeant Joe Hartford.

  “Ma’am, I was just on my way out for the day. I only came in to get some extra work done for the colonel, what can I do for you?”

  Callie couldn’t help but notice he actually sounded pleasant. Well, would wonders never cease?

  “I need to ask a few questions, and I was hoping that you can help me,” she stated.

  “Sure. Shoot.”

  “Did you by any chance find the gear that was used when Christian Bleu fell to his death?”

  There was a slight pause. “I’ve got bad news, ma’am. It seems that someone wasn’t aware that it was from a crime. They saw it was broken, and it was tossed.”

  Well, shit!

  “Really?” This was horrible news. The killer could have left DNA on the rigging.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Callie couldn’t help but think that it was a little too convenient. Every time they tried to get ahead in this investigation, someone threw up a roadblock. It was getting hard to believe it wasn’t intentional. The universe couldn’t hate them this much.

  It was time to try a different route.

  “How about the ME autopsy reports? Did you by any chance manage to locate the person who logged the ME files into the personnel files?”

  “Actually, yes. It was me. I don’t recall doing it, but my initials are on the log as signing them in. They arrived and I filed them. After that, I can’t tell you what happened.”

  Seriously?

  Another roadblock?

  “Can you tell me why half of them are blank? They look like someone went through and deleted most of the information. You wouldn’t happen to know who did that, now would you?”

  “No, ma’am. The files are kept in the personnel office. They aren’t locked down in the cabinets unless there is classified information in them. Deaths aren’t secret. Not here in the military. We lose good soldiers all the time.”

  Callie honestly wanted to scream.

  There was only one more thing to discuss, and she might as well go for it. Maybe it would get her the answer she needed.

  “Can you tell me why the colonel didn't advise us about the three men, who were on Bravo Ghost, who had been arrested by civilian police?”

  There was a pause.

  “Was he aware?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He was given the reports. Why he didn't handle it isn't my business. I’m not the colonel, but I am sure he had his reasons.”

  “That makes me nervous, Sergeant, because one of the three had violent tendencies. What else aren’t we being told? Do you like walking into situations blind and with your hands tied behind your back?”

  He still didn't say anything.

  “Well?”

  “Again, I can’t answer why the colonel didn't do anything when it came to discipline. If you want to take that up with him, you can make an appointment and go from there.”

  Well, if that wasn’t a polite way of being told off, Callie didn't know what it was.

  “I’ll stop in tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Is there anything else? I’d like to head out for the day.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, Sergeant. You’re dismissed.”

  With that, the phone line went dead.

  Yeah, that had been a total waste of her time. The only information Callie got out of it was that Marines didn't rat on Marines, someone wanted them to really work for it, and that the colonel had a lot to explain.

  When she spoke to him, it was going to be interesting.

  Chapter Eighteen

  T his was the interview they were dreading most. For the most part, the other Marines had a few people grieving for them, but Thomas Archer’s passing was recent and time had yet to heal all wounds.

  His fiancée had yet to have the mourning period to adjust to her loved one being gone. Quinn and Nate were well aware that it would take a gentle approach as they asked their questions.

  It was times like these that they wished Callie was with them. She tended to do the shrink-y stuff effortlessly, and had a much softer touch.

  Knocking on the door, they waited in dreaded anticipation. When the woman appeared, she didn't look so good. In fact, she appeared to be suffering a great deal. Her blonde hair was disheveled, she was wearing battered old Marine sweats, and her eyes were rimmed in red.

  This was going to be a rough one.

  “Yes?” she asked, blowing her nose.

  “Ma’am, are you Stephanie Simpson?” Nate asked, holding up his badge for her to read the credentials.

  “Yes.”

  “My partner and I need to talk to you for a little bit.”

  “About?” she inquired suspiciously.

  Quinn spoke up, “We heard about your loss, ma’am, and we need to discuss a few things to close up the case.” Quinn purposely didn't let on that they were investigating anything. The last thing this woman needed was to believe that Thomas was murdered.

  That would come later.

  “Oh, okay,” she offered, letting them in. “Can I get you some coffee?” she asked, leading them to the living room.

  Inside, there were boxes
being packed up. It was obvious that the woman was planning on moving.

  “I’m sorry the place is a mess,” she stated. “I just have to sell this house and get out of here. It’s bad enough that I have to go to the Marine base every day for work, but being here and knowing that Tommy took his life.” She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, “That he didn't love me enough to stay and live is too much to handle.”

  The men took a seat.

  “I can’t believe that next week would have been our wedding. It just seems so surreal. He was here, and then… gone.”

  Nate gave her a sympathetic look and gentle pat on her knee, letting her get it all out. Sometimes, the families of the dead just needed to have someone listen.

  “We had a good life, or at least I believed it was. Tommy came home every night, and he would talk about his job like he was the luckiest man in the world. Maybe the pressure was getting to him and that’s why…”

  Quinn tried to help her through this. He couldn’t imagine how the woman was feeling. “So, you didn't notice anything different in his behavior?”

  She thought about it.

  “Were there any odd calls? Late nights?” Nate asked.

  “Well, come to think of it, he always had late nights and bizarre calls where he would rush out. Sometimes, he would disappear for a week or two for drills. I wouldn’t hear from him, but he’d always come back happy and seemingly fulfilled.”

  “What about the week before his death?” Quinn asked.

  Her eyes filled with tears again, and Nate handed her a box of tissues.

  “Yes. That whole week he left to go somewhere. Then, the night he took his life, I wasn’t home. He told me that he wouldn’t be back, so I went out that night to get some things for the wedding. I picked up the place cards and ordered the centerpieces. Had I known he would be back early, I would have been here. Maybe that’s why he told me he wasn’t going to be around. Tommy was always so sweet. I don’t think he wanted me to find him like that.”

  Nate patted her knee. “How about we talk about happier times?” he stated. “How did you and Tommy meet?”

  She gave him a watery smile. “Well, I work on the base as a civilian contractor in the HR department. I’m in charge of any issues which pop up that need mediation.”

  Quinn made notes, hoping it didn't look too suspicious. “Go on,” he urged.

  “I’m friendly with quite a few Marines. You meet some really nice guys when you work there. I dated a few, it didn't work out, and then Tommy came along. It was like fate. One day about six months ago, I was walking to my car, and he bumped into me. We started talking and hit it off. From that day on, we were always together when he wasn’t away. We had a whirlwind courtship and decided to get married after four weeks.”

  “That’s a sweet story,” Quinn offered.

  She nodded. “It was love at first sight. I know that sounds silly, but the second I saw Tommy, I knew.”

  Quinn smiled. “I felt the same way when I met my wife. It’s not silly at all. It’s beautiful. I proposed a week after I met her. Love doesn’t have to take months to bloom.”

  Stephanie blew her nose and gave him a watery smile.

  “Did you ever visit him on base where he worked?” Nate asked.

  “No, I didn't. Tommy worked in a restricted area.”

  “What did he do?” Quinn asked.

  She began laughing. “Here’s the funny part. He worked on the military vehicle navigation systems, but Tommy couldn’t program our coffeepot.”

  Nate grinned. “In his defense, I can’t either. They’re hard to work.”

  That made her giggle. “Thank you for that,” she offered. “I can’t remember the last time I heard myself laugh.”

  They understood.

  “Most of the time, Tommy would hunt me down. He was really stealthy. Half the time I’d look up and there he was. I don’t even know how he got into our offices without a pass card.”

  Well, they did.

  Tommy Archer had higher clearance than all of them.

  “I’m sorry, but why are you asking me all these things?” she finally inquired.

  “Well, we need to make sure all our bases are covered,” Quinn stated.

  “The Federal government likes to be thorough.” Nate stood, nodding at Quinn. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Simpson. If we have any more questions or something pops up, can we contact you?”

  “You can,” she replied, rattling off her cell number as Quinn wrote it down. “Thank you for coming here today to see me. It actually helped me heal a little.”

  The men shook her hand before exiting. Neither spoke until they made it to their vehicle.

  “Well?” Quinn asked, buckling in.

  “One thing stands out for me,” Nate admitted.

  “What’s that?” he inquired.

  “I had access to all the dates that Bravo Ghost was on duty, and the week of Thomas Archer’s death wasn’t one of them. They were in from a job and doing training exercises all day.”

  “So, he lied to his fiancée. He wasn’t working.”

  “Yeah, now we need to find out what he was hiding from her. That may give us a little lead down another trail.”

  “Yeah, well in my experience,” Quinn admitted, “men only lie to their women for one reason.”

  Nate was with him on that. “Yeah, there’s something going on with someone of the opposite sex.”

  “Exactly. It looks like our dead Marine was dipping his pole in another fishing spot.”

  “This is getting ugly.”

  Quinn glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late. How about we grab some takeout and head back in? We’ll tell Callie all about this and see if she can fill in some of the blanks.”

  Nate was good with that. “Hopefully, she’s having some luck.”

  “Yeah, we can only hope.”

  * * * C a r t e r C h r o n i c l e s * * *

  Watching Maura with the crossbow, Luke was entertained. Since digging out the poles from the shed, he’d found some other things to keep themselves busy.

  He couldn’t help but be amused as she wasn’t very good at using it.

  “Stop laughing at me,” she stated, trying again. “If I can master all kinds of weapons, this should be easy.” Or at least that was what she was telling herself.

  Luke moved closer, pressing his body to the back of hers. With his head by her ear, he helped Maura aim.

  As his warm breath tickled her neck, she found it hard to concentrate. Then, she could see that she wasn’t the only one. Luke wasn’t only focused on using the crossbow. He was hard and pressed into her lower back.

  It was the most delicious feeling in the world.

  This man was crazy about her.

  When his lips suddenly began nibbling at her neck, Maura couldn’t handle it anymore. Releasing the string of the bow, the arrow flew through the air, past the target, and into the trees beyond.

  Well, shit.

  There went her ability to think while under distraction.

  “You know what, Maura?” he whispered.

  She couldn’t imagine. “What?”

  “I think that you being a soldier is a total turn on for me. When you’re holding a weapon, or working on a strategy, I want to have you climb all over me, honey.”

  She swallowed as his hands wandered across her body. What a coincidence. All it took was him breathing, and she wanted to be in his lap riding him.

  What could she say?

  Maura was an out of control hussy.

  “You don’t say,” she murmured back.

  Turning her to face him, Luke lifted her chin. Staring into her serene green eyes, his heart found peace. Being near Maura was very calming. Well, except what she did to his body. It was anything but relaxed.

  Maura got tired of waiting. Pulling his mouth down to hers, she fell into the kiss. As their tongues slid across each other, she was lost in the moment.

  Luke needed her. There was never
going to be a time in his life that he wouldn’t. Since finding her, everything had changed.

  Placing his hand on her slim hips, he lifted her up. It heated his blood when, without hesitation, Maura wrapped her legs around his waist. Not once did they stop kissing.

  Heading toward the cabin, Luke ran his hand through Maura’s straight hair. The silkiness and scent called to him. As long as he lived, he’d never forget the scent.

  When the door closed behind them, Luke headed straight to the couch. Dropping down, Maura was perched over him. When her eager fingers found his shirt, tugging it off, they were forced to break the kiss.

  “I love a man with tattoos,” she stated, running her hands across his shoulders. “They’re sexy as hell.”

  He couldn’t speak as her mouth began following the heated trail her fingers had made. Luke was helpless to watch her lick and tease her way down his body.

  When she was off his lap and kneeling in front of him, his brain went blank.

  “I want you,” she purred, flicking open his cargo pants.

  It wasn’t like he was going to stop her. The only thing that would come from his mouth was a moan as she ran her hand over the bulge in his pants.

  The longing for her never ended.

  It was consuming him alive.

  “Touch me,” he urged, dropping his head back as she freed him. The slide of warm flesh over his increasingly heated erection was making it hard to concentrate.

  Maura loved watching Luke. From the wildly tousled blonde hair to the piercing baby blue eyes, he did it for her. “Look at me, Lucas,” she demanded.

  When he did, she took him in her mouth.

  This was torture.

  Her lips and tongue working him into a frenzy was bad enough, but watching his wet erection sliding in and out of her mouth was maddening.

  “Maura, honey,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re killing me.”

  It didn't deter her. In fact, it urged her on even more. As he fought to not push his erection deeper in her mouth, Maura teased him with the tip of her tongue.

 

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