BATON ROUGE

by Carla Cassidy - Scene of the Crime 09 - BATON ROUGE

  She straightened her shoulders and drew a deep, steadying breath. She couldn’t allow herself to get spooked by a single phone call—Alex would pull her off the case if she appeared that weak.

  “What did your caller identification show?” Alex asked. She was pleased his voice held no sympathy, no coddling tone.

  “Unknown caller,” she replied, also glad that her voice held no sense of the cold turmoil inside her. “He probably made the call from a throwaway phone. He’s too smart to allow himself to be traced.” She paused a moment. “If it really was him, then why me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because you’re the only woman on the team?”

  “How would he even know that I’m on the team? The article this morning didn’t mention any names.”

  “I don’t have any answers for you right now,” Alex replied, his voice deep and his eyes fierce as he held her gaze. “But I promise you that by tomorrow we’ll have some. If there’s a leak in the department, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  She saw the depth of anger simmering in his beautiful eyes and would hate to be the person on the receiving end of that ire.

  “We can’t know for sure that it was really the perp who made the call,” he said thoughtfully. He took a drink of his coffee and set the cup back down. “There were plenty of news reports out of Bachelor Moon when Sam and his wife and little Macy went missing. The call could have just come from some creep.”

  “Creeps don’t generally know my phone number,” she replied dryly.

  “We’ll figure it all out,” he said in an obvious effort to soothe, but she knew it was more likely than not that they wouldn’t learn how he had gotten her phone number.

  They fell silent for the next few minutes. She sipped her drink while Alex slugged down his coffee and got up to order himself another one. She had a feeling it would be a sleepless night for him as well as for her.

  Macy. Why had the caller mentioned the little girl who had already found purchase in Georgina’s heart? Perhaps he had just reasoned that since she was a woman, the child would be the best way to get to her. What a calculating creep.

  By the time Alex returned to the table, Michelle and the man who had stood behind her at the autographing table walked through the door.

  The big bruiser had his arm around Michelle and a scowl on his face that indicated he was definitely not pleased to be here. “Why would the FBI want to talk to Michelle?” he asked as the two of them reached the table where Georgina and Alex were seated.

  “Maybe you’re the one we need to talk to,” Alex countered as he stood.

  Georgina released a sigh. She’d already had enough drama for one night. She didn’t need a macho showdown between the two men. “Why don’t we all sit down and we’ll explain exactly what brought Michelle to our attention.”

  Michelle took the stool next to Georgina. “I already know why you want to talk to me. This overly protective brute is my boyfriend, Jax White. Sit down, Jax, and let them ask their questions.”

  Jax took a seat as Alex returned to his. “I know the people I wrote about in my book are missing,” Michelle said. “But that’s all I know about the situation.”

  “So the kidnapping of these agents isn’t part of a publicity stunt to sell more books?” Alex asked.

  Michelle shot him a derisive look. “I don’t subscribe to the ‘Any publicity is good publicity’ theory.”

  As Alex questioned Michelle further, Georgina tried to put the phone call out of her head and instead get a read on the woman and man seated at the table with them.

  “I have some contacts in the agency,” Michelle said, “and they pointed me to Sam Connelly, Amberly Caldwell and Jackson Revannaugh as three of the best profilers who had all recently solved fairly high-profile cases. I decided to showcase them in the book as some of the best of the best when it comes to catching killers.”

  “And exactly how did you do your research?” Georgina asked.

  “She sure as hell didn’t kidnap the agents,” Jax exclaimed in obvious irritation.

  Michelle ignored his outburst. “Unfortunately none of the agents would grant me interviews, so I did my research the hard way—by getting files on the cases they’d worked, by reading every article and news item I could find. I traveled to Mystic Lake and here to Baton Rouge to talk to some of the people who were involved with the crimes. I talked to the people in the towns, friends of the missing people. I also tried to talk to friends of the FBI agents. Unfortunately they all refused to talk to me.”

  Her chin rose defensively. “I worked hard to write the stories of heroes and the criminals that they caught. I saw in the paper this morning that a task force had been formed to deal with the case of the missing FBI agents. I knew you’d be coming to question me, but I can’t help you. I don’t know what happened to them. I can’t help you in any way in your investigation.”

  Jax stood and placed an arm around Michelle’s shoulder. “Are we through here?”

  “One more question...where were the two of you four nights ago?” Alex asked.

  “At my home in New Orleans,” Michelle answered without hesitation. She exchanged a glance with Jax.

  “Do the two of you live together?” Georgina asked.

  Michelle hesitated a beat before replying. “No, but Jax spends most nights at my place. I’m sure he was with me four nights ago.”

  Jax squeezed her shoulder. “And now I think we’re through here.” Michelle rose as if his hand on her shoulder was a magical wand that lifted her off the stool.

  “Where can we reach you if we need to ask you more questions?” Alex asked.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow on a book tour. If you’ll give me your email or fax number I’ll have my agent send you my itinerary,” Michelle said.

  Alex pulled a card from his pocket. “My cell phone and email is there. If I don’t get that itinerary from your agent by noon tomorrow, then we’re going to have problems.”

  Michelle nodded and the two of them left the coffee shop.

  “Want another coffee?” Alex asked.

  “No thanks. I think I’m ready to call it a day.” She knew they’d talk about this little interview in the car, but once the author and her boyfriend had disappeared from sight, the phone call Georgina had received filled her head once again.

  Minutes later they were in Alex’s car and headed toward her house. “I feel inclined to do a little background check on Mr. Jax White,” Alex said.

  “Probably wouldn’t hurt,” she agreed. “There was just a moment when Michelle said that Jax was with her on the night that Jackson and Marjorie disappeared that I didn’t quite believe her.”

  “Maybe he decided to help his lover get a little extra publicity with her book,” Alex said. “He’s big enough to carry bodies over his shoulders and he looks like a man who might have a record.”

  “And he knew I was an FBI agent and had time before they met us here to make that phone call.” Her stomach ached as she thought of the call.

  They spoke no more until he pulled into her driveway. He cut the engine, turned out the car lights and then looked at her, his features visible in the streetlight next to her driveway.

  “You want me to take your cell phone?” he asked.

  She frowned at him in surprise. “Why would I want you to do that?”

  “In case he calls again...so you don’t have to deal with it.”

  “If he calls again it’s because for some reason he wants to talk to me. You can’t protect me, Alex. I can handle this. I’m fine.”

  She saw the frown that shot across his brow. “You’re always so damn strong, Georgina. You never need anyone.”

  She drew in a breath. “Are we talking about a phone call or are we discussing personal history?”

  Leaning his head back, he raked a
hand through his thick dark hair. “I don’t know, maybe a little of both,” he admitted.

  “I won’t discuss history,” she replied. “What’s done is done. All I’m interested in is catching this guy and saving not only our fellow agents but precious little Macy. I’ll keep my phone and if he calls again I’ll record the call and you’ll be the first to know.”

  She opened the car door in an effort to stanch any further conversation that might turn to old heartaches and failures. “I can do my job, Alex. I don’t need you to do anything but watch my back as a good partner would.”

  She got out of the car and shut the door and hurried toward her house. It was only when she was inside that she saw the lights on Alex’s car beam on and then he pulled out of the driveway.

  She locked her door and then went into her living room where she placed her gun, her official identification and her cell phone on the coffee table. She didn’t want to admit that the phone call had completely creeped her out. The fact that the person on the other end of the line had called her by name had ignited a fear in her that she hadn’t felt for a very long time.

  Had the call really come from the man who held little Macy and the others captive? And why had he focused his attention on her when there were seven other members of the task force?

  Maybe it was just some jerk who had managed to get her phone number and make the call. Crimes often brought out the mentally ill and the pranksters to play in the game.

  Still, she couldn’t discount the sharp intuition that told her he’d been the real deal.

  She got up from the sofa and moved to the window to peer outside into the night. Her front yard held trees and bushes, hiding places for somebody who might be watching her.

  Was he out there right now?

  Watching her?

  For the first time since her divorce she wished Alex were here with her, to assure her that the boogeyman wasn’t after her, to hold her in his big strong arms and make her feel safe.

  She’d told him she was fine, that she didn’t need anyone. The truth was she was afraid to tap into any need she might possess.

  Needing anyone, loving anyone made you vulnerable, made you appear weak. And Georgina knew better than anyone that weakness could set the predators circling overhead. And they would circle until you were too weak to fight them off when they attacked.

  * * *

  ALEXANDER DROVE AIMLESSLY after leaving Georgina’s house. He often did his best thinking while in a car cruising without any specific direction, and at this moment he had a lot on his mind.

  He wasn’t particularly satisfied that Michelle and Jax hadn’t pulled off a world-class publicity stunt. The two had set off tiny alarm bells in his head, but it was too early for the alarms to be a signal that they were guilty.

  It would be interesting to see how this case played out as Michelle went on her book tour, if the kidnappings became a tool for garnering her publicity.

  His bigger concern was the call Georgina had received, a call she was certain was from the man they hunted. He’d expected the perp to make contact again, but he’d assumed it would be by another note sent to headquarters. He hadn’t expected the “reach out and touch someone” approach.

  He definitely hadn’t expected Georgina to be the one touched so personally by the perp. If it had really been him...if it hadn’t been some kind of sick prank phone call, he reminded himself.

  He knew he’d gone against protocol by not taking her phone away from her and carrying it immediately to one of the tech men to see if they could identify the location from where the call had come.

  Turning down a dark side street, he knew he was betting on three things...that the call had probably come from a phone they wouldn’t be able to trace, that the call itself hadn’t lasted long enough for any kind of a trace, and finally that the potential perp would call her again.

  Tightening his fingers on the steering wheel, he thought of that instant when he’d seen fear in the depths of her beautiful green eyes, when he’d seen the faint tremor of her hand as she’d placed her cell phone on the table. She’d recovered quickly, as she always did...as she always had.

  As much as he’d loved her, that was the part of her that had frustrated him to distraction during their marriage. She gave him all the passion she had in her heart, in her soul, when they made love, but she never gave him her hopes, her fears or her dreams.

  She’d given freely of her body, but had offered him no intimacy of her heart or soul, had shared nothing of her past to allow him to see what kind of influences had made her into the woman she’d become.

  As he turned the car to head home, he told himself the last thing he should be doing was thinking about the days and nights he’d spent with Georgina, the love for her that still simmered in the very depths of his heart despite the fact that she’d walked away from their marriage seemingly without a backward glance.

  He had a case to solve, seven people who were depending on him to find them. What he’d like to know was how the perp had focused in on Georgina? Had he read the paper that morning and managed to dig up the names of the people on the task force? Had he zeroed in on Georgina because she was the only woman on the team?

  There was no doubt that there was a snitch someplace in the office. There was always a snitch willing to sell out names of agents and/or details of ongoing cases. There was always a bad apple somewhere. Alexander just wished he could be certain that the bad apple wasn’t on his task force.

  He would watch them all closely, and if he discovered that one of his men had given up Georgina’s name to a reporter or anyone else, he’d see that the man no longer had a job, and no longer had a full set of teeth.

  Pulling into the driveway of the house he’d once shared with Georgina, a deep weariness tugged at him. He’d barely slept the night before and hoped tonight he would sleep without dreams.

  He needed to be fresh and alert to begin a new day. He parked and got out of the car and entered the house that hadn’t felt like home since the day Georgina had left.

  Minutes later he stood in the master bath shower, allowing hot pellets of water to pummel his body. Once the tension of the day had eased away, he shut off the water and stepped out of the stall.

  A large towel awaited him, along with a clean pair of boxers that served as his nightwear. He wasn’t going to spend a single minute looking at files tonight. He just wanted to get into bed and sleep without dreams until dawn.

  The bed seemed to embrace him as he fell supine and pulled the sheet up around his shoulders. He forced himself to empty his mind as he stared up at the patterns the moon made on the ceiling as the faint lunar light drifted through his curtains.

  He must have fallen asleep immediately for the nightmare unfolded in horrifying, familiar detail. He drove the car at breakneck speed, knowing the killer held Kelly Gilmer in the old warehouse on Walker Street.

  The killer was on his phone talking to Alexander, taunting him, unaware that Alexander was closing in. Through the line in the background he could hear Kelly begging for her life.

  “Just let her go,” Alexander said. “Daniel, if you walk away now we can work things out.”

  “I’ve killed three other women. How you going to work that out?” Daniel had screamed. “She’s a faithless slut, just like the others before her and she deserves to die.”

  Alexander pulled to a halt in front of the warehouse, his heart beating so fast he feared he’d drop dead before he got inside where Kelly needed a hero. He desperately needed to be that hero.

  He left the phone in the car with Daniel ranting and raving and stealthily made his way to the warehouse door. He opened it, his gun leading the way, as he slid through and looked around the dim building to get his bearings.

  Daniel and Kelly’s voices came from a room just ahead. Alexander crept forward, energized b
y the fact that Kelly was still well enough to plead for her life.

  He stepped into the room, and instantly saw Daniel straddling Kelly, a wicked big knife in his hands. “Freeze!” Alexander screamed.

  Daniel Bowie, a man who had kept the FBI busy by killing three other women, smiled at Alexander and then plunged the knife downward. Alexander fired his gun, shooting the young man in his chest.

  As Daniel crumpled over, Alexander rushed to Kelly, already knowing it was too late, that she was dead. As he reached her, he looked down and instead of seeing Kelly’s unseeing blue eyes, it was Georgina staring up at him with sightless green eyes.

  He awoke, heart pounding and automatically reached to the other side of the bed. In his sleep-groggy mind, with the horror of the dream playing inside his head, it was only when he touched the cold empty sheets next to him that he remembered Georgina wasn’t there. She hadn’t been there for a very long time.

  Dawn light crept through the windows and the sound of birds beginning to sing their morning songs pulled him out of bed. The dream was a familiar one since Kelly Gilmer’s death, although Georgina had never made an appearance in his nightscape before now.

  By the time he was dressed and drinking a cup of coffee in the large airy kitchen, he knew that the phone call she’d received bothered him more than he realized.

  Although she was a seasoned agent and well trained in self-defense, fear for her knotted in the pit of his stomach. She would hate him for being afraid for her. She would hate him feeling anything for her.

  But he couldn’t help it. He felt as if she’d been personally touched by a malevolent force and he could only pray that the man who had called her had either been a fake or had no plans to touch her again.

  Chapter Five

  It had been a quiet day, with agents drifting in and out of the war room and everyone busy with their own particular task. First thing that morning Alex had asked Georgina to dig up everything she could on Michelle Davison and her boyfriend, Jax.