"Colton. I heard you'd been temporarily assigned to the narcotics squad." Wade smiled. "I'm guessing you're going to back up Rafe, too."
"I lend a hand when it's needed." Colton's gaze was on the diploma hanging on the wall. "University of Texas at Austin," he read aloud.
"You an alumni?" Wade asked.
Colton responded by flashing the famous Hook 'em Horns sign, which consisted of a closed fist except for the index and little finger, which he waved in the air.
"Anything we learn," Rafe said, choosing not to remind them Texas A&M was, in his opinion, the better college, "we'll pass on to you. Have you studied the latest note sent to Erin?"
"I had a copy waiting for me this morning. Damn near missed it." Wade slapped a stack of paperwork. "If it had gotten buried here, it might've been days before I got to it. The lab tech left it on my chair."
"What did you make of it?" Rafe asked.
Wade stood, walked over, and closed the door. "I assume you know the killer left a message on the wall of each murdered girl." He held his hands out in the stop-don't-talk position. "Don't deny it, and don't tell me how you know. I'm fairly sure how you learned about it, so please, don't confirm it." He returned to his chair.
"We have no idea what the message said," Rafe answered honestly. "I'd like to know if it was anything like the note Erin received."
Wade shuffled around pieces of paper on his desk as if looking for something. Rafe could see the struggle behind the detective's eyes. "I intentionally kept this information away from the press. I expect you to do the same."
"You have my word," Rafe said.
"And mine," Colton said.
"The messages were written using each girl's blood. Big and bold, in all capital letters. Each read, 'You lie, you die.'"
"Shit," Colton said. "What a warning."
"And so was Erin's note," Rafe said. "Think about it. The killer and Erin's stalker are one and the same. Her note wasn't written in blood, but he made it clear that she had tested his patience. You have the proof you need. The cases are connected."
"I agree," Wade said. "The girls' lies hurt Erin. Maybe their actions were the impetus this bastard needed to crawl out of the woodwork."
"Maybe he already had Erin on the radar, and the girls interfered," Rafe said, pleased not to have to argue his idea. "Now we just have to figure out who he is."
****
Casanova emptied his shopping bag. He wrapped the nylon rope around his palms and pulled hard. This would be easy to handle and wouldn't harm Erin's skin. A camping toilet and refrigerator were the best he could do without raising suspicions. She'd just have to make do. He hoped putting her in the safe room long term wouldn't be necessary. This was just until she realized she was safe and with him. She'd quickly come around when she realized how much he'd done for her.
He hoped those men hanging around her hadn't confused her. Mixed up her thinking. Made her doubt her love for him.
Concentrating on anything except Erin was getting more difficult by the day. His heart ached to be with her, and he knew she felt the same way.
He went upstairs and showered before carrying the white wedding gown to the safe room. He wrapped his arms around the lace bodice, closed his eyes, and then swayed to the music drifting down from upstairs. His body ached for the real woman rather than this empty dress, so he carefully spread the gown across the foot of the small cot he'd installed. Then he went upstairs and closed and locked the storm shelter door. He pressed the new carpet and molding back in place. To the unsuspecting eye, the carpet would appear to be properly installed.
Soon, he'd bring his bride home. She'd prove to him that the room had been a waste of time. Then it would become a shelter to protect them during bad weather.
He had to see her. A quick look to ensure she was okay would suffice. He hopped into his SUV and drove by her house. The man who'd been hanging around Erin was getting her mail out of her mailbox. And who was the new guy driving the pickup? A stranger. His lunch rebelled, forcing its way up the back of his throat.
A horn sounded, snapping Casanova out of his rage. He jerked his steering wheel to the right, swerving and barely missing an oncoming car.
Keeping her under surveillance presented problems, but he had no choice. He'd take her home with him as soon as the situation presented itself. In the meantime, he wouldn't tolerate any more men hanging around.
Good thing the house on the corner was still empty.
****
"Crazy bastard," Colton muttered as two cars barely missed having a head-on collision.
"Lucky bastard. He was inches from meeting his maker." Rafe dropped Erin's mail on the front seat of Colton's pickup. "We don't have to wait until school is in session to talk with these kids. In fact, they might be quicker to open up away from their friends."
"Pick one. My new GPS system will guide us."
Rafe studied the list for a minute before he programmed an address into the truck's computer.
"There you go," Rafe said while the vehicle's brain calculated directions. "You saw Grace McCain at the YMCA. I loaded her address."
"Ah, the girl who avoided us," Colton said.
"She ran with the two dead girls. Probably scared shitless. I didn't get the sense she was using. That's not saying she doesn't. She just wasn't high the day I met her."
Colton slowed for the upcoming turn, taking a right into a new neighborhood on the outskirts of town.
Rafe scanned the area. "All this is new. Wasn't here when I left."
Colton let out a low whistle. "The gardeners probably make more money than we do. Bet there's a riding mower in every shed."
Rafe chuckled. "Big houses. Big lots. We're talking serious money here."
A horseshoe driveway led to a two-story house set toward the back of the property. All dark brick and glass, with thick green shrubs and no flowers, the house came across as cold and distant to Rafe. The outside projected an image of wealth. Wealth without welcome or warmth.
Colton parked in front of the house. "Let's go see if the natives are friendly."
Rafe waited while Colton put on his hat and clipped his badge to his belt. They walked up the few steps, but before they could ring the bell, the door opened. Grace, still wearing her gym warm-ups, stood wide-eyed.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I thought it might be easier if we talked today instead of tomorrow on school grounds." Rafe could almost smell the fear rolling off her. "If you'd rather have one of your parents with you, we'll wait here."
"My mom and dad are out of the country. They both travel a lot. Why do you need to talk to me anyway?" The defiant tone in her voice indicated she'd calmed down a little.
"Look, Grace, we don't want to get you in trouble, but you were friends with two girls who were brutally murdered. The FBI is helping sort this out, and you need to tell us what you know." Rafe was being very formal for a reason. She'd clammed up on him once. He didn't want her to think she could get away with that again. He decided to soften his approach. "Grace, Erin Brady says you're a good kid, and we trust her judgment. It would help if you extended us the same courtesy."
"Drive your truck around back. I'll meet you by the pool." Grace closed the door.
"Okay," Colton said, spinning on his boot heel and heading to the truck.
Rafe got in, closed the door, and turned to his partner. "Let's see what the young lady has to say."
CHAPTER 15
Grace was perched on the edge of a lounge chair, waiting. Based on her body language, she looked like a bird about to take flight. Her face showed a layer of panic even an unseasoned agent would've seen. Rafe cut a glance at Colton as they sat in chairs across from her. Yeah. He'd noticed it, too.
"Grace, I'm Colton Weir," Colton said, getting straight to business. "Rafe here? He's one of the good guys. He cares enough about you kids to want the drugs and the dealers off the street."
Rafe watched as her shoulders relaxed. He knew what
was coming. She didn't. Colton's smile disappeared.
"Me, on the other hand? Not so much." The warmth in Colton's voice had turned cold. "My job is to send that drug dealer to prison. I don't want the jerk who sells a small bag on the corner. I want the supplier. So together, Rafe and I make a good team. Understand?"
Grace nodded, her gaze locked on her feet.
Rafe leaned closer. "Tell us about Penny. Who her friends were."
"I don't know much about her. She wasn't friendly toward me until my brother dropped me off at school. She was standing next to my car door before he got stopped. Acted as if we were old friends. That was the day I became part of her group."
"He drives a fancy sports car," Rafe said, drawing her attention from her feet to his face.
"Yes. How did you know?" she asked.
"Where is your brother?" Rafe turned in his chair and glanced toward the house. "Is he here?"
"Bradley went back to college. He only comes home on weekends. He's the smart kid in the family." The resentment lacing her words chilled the air.
"We get it. You've never measured up," Colton said. "Lots of us take a backseat to a sibling. We don't sit around and shoot that shit into our system. Tell us where you got the drugs."
"I don't use drugs and don't know what you're talking—"
"Don't lie to us," Rafe said. "We know the truth. We need to know who sold them to you." Damn, they needed a break on this case. Grace could give it to them. Her chest rose and air whooshed from her lungs. A sign of surrender? Rafe hoped so. "Back up and start with who you and Penny hung out with."
"Penny didn't include me in everything. After we'd hung out a few weeks, she asked me if I could get to any of my parents' drugs. She said all the popular kids were doing some sort of junk."
"What did you give her?" Rafe prompted when she fell silent.
"A few hydrocodone pills. When Mom and Dad travel, they take their meds with them. Penny was okay with me not bringing her drugs as long as I had cash when she needed it."
"After you gave her money, who did she contact?" Rafe asked.
"I don't know. Every now and then, she'd collect names and cash. The next day she'd meet everybody behind the field house and pass out the drugs. I only went with her a couple of times."
"Why'd you stop?" Colton asked.
"My mom and dad keep a tight control on my spending. The minute Penny found out I wasn't flush with cash, she started leaving me out." Grace stood. "Are we done?"
"Soon as you tell me a little about Melanie Summers," Rafe said. "Is she going to be helpful?"
"No. She's too smart. She warned me not to talk to the cops or we might wind up like Penny and Sara." Her hand went to her chest, covering her heart. She was frightened. A little girl trying to be tough.
"Then you do know something." Colton took that aggressive tone again.
"Only what I told you." Grace walked to the edge of the swimming pool.
Rafe and Colton joined her. "Then they're still buying? The deaths didn't slow the deliveries down?"
"Not from what I've heard."
"Who is collecting money now that Penny is gone?" Rafe asked.
"I don't know. I swear."
Colton stepped closer to her. He leaned down and got next to her ear. "I don't completely buy your innocence. You're lying and withholding information. When I can prove it, I'll be back."
"Now's not the time to hold back." Rafe gave her one more chance to talk but was met with silence. "You still have my card?" She nodded. "Call if you need to talk."
He and Colton walked around the house past the immaculately groomed landscape and got into the truck. Rafe and Nick had shared the responsibility for keeping the shrubs trimmed and lawn mowed when they were kids. Voicing an objection had resulted in extra duties being piled on. So they'd bitched and moaned amongst themselves. Didn't seem like such a big job now.
"Where to now?" Colton asked, driving out of the neighborhood.
"Hang on." Rafe looked up an address. "Turn right at the next street. Melanie Summers lives directly behind Grace. Let's pay her a visit."
Colton jockeyed the truck into a U-turn, and within a couple of minutes, he'd parked in front of a Southern plantation-looking house. "Wish I'd been the construction contractor on a few of these houses."
They stepped onto the brick sidewalk and made their way to the expansive porch, where Rafe rang the doorbell. The door opened, and a fortyish Latina woman filled the space with her short, sturdy body. Her hair had been pulled back into a knot, and she wore a simple blue dress with dark shoes. Her thick soles indicated she spent a lot of time on her feet.
"We don't want what you're selling," she said behind tightly drawn lips.
Rafe held out his identification for her inspection. "We're here to speak with Melanie."
She studied the ID then raised her gaze to meet his. "I don't think her parents would approve."
"Would you rather we call for a patrol car?" Rafe looked around the neighborhood. "I'll have them pick up Melanie and drive her to the station where she can wait until her parents arrive or arrange for an attorney for her."
The woman hesitated but then stepped back, waving them inside. "Stay here." She turned and hurried up the staircase.
Colton picked up a vase and studied it. Light reflected off the glass, giving it a slight glow. He carefully returned it to its place. "Shit," he whispered. "The furniture here in the foyer cost more than everything in my house put together.
A girl strolled down the staircase. She wore skin-hugging blue jeans shorts and a form-fitting tank top. Jet-black hair had been shaved to the scalp over her left ear, but the rest hung past her right shoulder and covered her eye. The blank expression on her face told Rafe that she wasn't happy with their presence.
"What do you want?" she said.
"We'd like to ask you a few questions about Penny and Sara," Rafe said.
"Talking got them killed. I have nothing to say."
"That's harsh." Colton stepped closer to her. "They were your friends."
"He's right," Rafe said. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be." Something moved to Rafe's left. He looked but saw nothing. He'd have bet money someone had been listening. Maybe the housekeeper was keeping tabs on Melanie. "Would you rather speak with us at the police station? You choose."
She turned and walked away, stopping after a few steps to turn to motion them to join her. "We can talk in the living room."
Melanie sat on the oversized couch with her bare feet pulled under her. She tucked her hair behind her ear and leveled her gaze at Rafe. "If the killer knows I talked to you, he'll come here. I don't want to die."
"Nobody else knows that Agent Weir or I are here. So I think you're safe answering our questions. First, you need to understand that if you're addicted to heroin, we can get you help, but there's no way to keep your parents out of it."
"I'm not an addict."
"That's good," Colton said with a doubtful shrug. "Tell us who sells you drugs."
"And be dead by morning? Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. We never cared enough to find out his name."
Again, Rafe caught movement off to his left. "Who is we? Is it Grace?"
Melanie met his gaze with a blank stare. Rafe walked to one of the chairs and sat.
"Yes." Grace entered the room, walked straight to her friend, and curled up next to her on the couch.
Colton slid to the edge of his chair and locked gazes with Grace. "I gotta give it to you. You're good. I bought your innocent act. Once. Don't try it again." He rose and paced a couple of steps. His jaw was set tight when he turned to face the girls. "You answer our questions, or I'll have your asses hauled to juvenile detention. You can stay there until we contact your parents and have them join us."
Damn, Rafe liked to watch his partner in action. And for once, Rafe was getting to be the good guy. He smiled what he thought would be a comforting expression. "Let's begin again. I'll start by promising that no one has to kn
ow what you tell us." He paused to let that sink in. "That's if we can gather proof that will stand up in a court of law without your testimony."
Melanie said, "There's a back road into the city baseball fields. Be there Friday right after dark. You'll see who passes out the drugs and who buys them." She glanced at Grace and then folded her arms across her chest. "We're done talking."
Rafe held her gaze for a minute before he stood. "Good enough."
He and Colton walked to the door. As they exited, Rafe glanced back and both girls were watching. Neither had moved.
Colton drove away from the property, got Linc on the phone and filled him in on the visit with Grace and Melanie. "I'll keep an eye on the girls tonight," Colton said. "If they leave, it might be interesting to see where they go."
"That's not a bad idea. They could lead you to somebody important."
Colton pulled onto the freeway. The quick acceleration of the pickup shifted Erin's mail, sliding it next to Rafe's leg. He dropped his hand on an envelope. He'd grown too fond of her too quick.
"Where to?" Colton asked. "Back to your place?"
Rafe nodded. "Yeah. Take I-22 west. We should check on Erin."
"Any idea where to start looking for her stalker?"
"Hell, no. Wait until you see the list of men she's friendly with—not dated—just those she knows." Rafe's stomach growled. "Let's grab a sack of burgers. I'll ask Linc to join us. Maybe you can talk him into sharing surveillance duties with you."
"Shouldn't you call your girl and ask what she wants to eat?" A grin spread across Colton's face.
"What are you?" The top of Rafe's ears burned, which pissed him off. "Still in high school? Erin is not my girl."
"Easy," Colton said. "I'm finding that hard to believe. I know you. Careful, or I'll think you've mellowed."
Rafe's head almost spun around backward. Mellowed? That was the worst thing an agent could do. Even worse, he'd felt a shift in his emotions this morning. Holding Erin in his arms had opened a part of him he'd intentionally kept buried. Affection. He actually cared about her.
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