First Degree Murder

by Christy Barritt

  She needed to touch base with Dane about the stolen vehicle from last night.

  She needed to do some more research on Anthony Gilead’s run for mayor.

  She needed to look for any loopholes that would get Serena out of Gilead’s Cove.

  Cassidy rubbed her temples. The tasks felt overwhelming, but she just needed to start at the top and see what she could discover.

  She took a long sip of coffee before picking up her phone and putting in a call about that cell phone number. The fact that Cassidy was digging into this had to be a secret. She didn’t want anyone asking questions or she might have to explain about that text.

  Ten minutes later, Cassidy confirmed what she already knew—the text had come from a burner phone, and the device was now inactive and untraceable.

  Not surprising.

  Next, Cassidy called Abbott, who didn’t answer. She left a message for him to call her back about the dead bodies they’d discovered. Most likely, the NCSBI hadn’t learned anything of value yet, but Cassidy wanted to know for sure.

  Deciding to stretch her legs, she went into Dane’s office to get an update from him. Ranger, a boxer mix, lay beside the desk near him and wagged his tail when Cassidy walked in.

  “Oh, hey, Chief.” Dane looked up from his paperwork. “What’s going on?”

  “I need to follow up with you about that stolen vehicle from last night.” She knelt and rubbed Ranger’s head.

  Dane put his papers down. “Oh, right. I had it towed here to the station for impound. I ran the plates and discovered the Honda was stolen from Hatteras last week. The owner—a man from Michigan—was on a fishing trip. He came back to the parking lot at the inlet to discover his vehicle was gone. He’s anxious to get it back as soon as it’s cleared.”

  “Any evidence inside?” Cassidy took another sip of her coffee.

  Dane shook his head. “No, nothing. There were no food wrappers, cans, bottles. I didn’t even find any mud, sand, or hair. I swept the entire car.”

  “Fingerprints?” She knew it was a longshot, but she had to ask.

  “No, everything was wiped clean. Was your guy last night wearing gloves?”

  Cassidy shrugged and tried to picture their chase. Everything had happened so quickly, and it had been dark outside. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see him that well. He was wearing black clothing. He very well could have had black gloves on as well.”

  “He certainly seemed to cover his bases.” Dane paused and studied Cassidy for a moment, as if trying to put the pieces together. “You think this has something to do with those human remains?”

  “I have no idea. Considering someone shot at us on-scene yesterday, I’d say it’s a good possibility.” Then again, it could be a member of DH-7. Cassidy kept that thought to herself.

  “Any updates on those human remains?” Dane asked.

  As if on cue, Cassidy’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw that it was Abbott. She hoped he might have some news for her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cassidy excused herself and put her phone to her ear. “Abbott, thanks for the call back.”

  “I assume you’re calling to check in about the case.” His voice sounded dour, as if he resented her earlier interruption.

  She didn’t care. “Yes, I was.”

  “We haven’t been able to discover much yet. These things take time.”

  Though Cassidy wasn’t surprised, disappointment still bit at her. “I figured as much.”

  “However,” Abbott continued. “There is one victim who might be easier to identify. We’re guessing her age to be about twenty-five. She had traces of long red hair. And, because of a medical condition, we think we may be able to trace her more easily.”

  Cassidy closed her door, anxious to hear more. “What’s the medical condition?”

  “Scoliosis.”

  A curvature of the spine . . . interesting. “Well, that should certainly narrow things down.”

  “That’s what we’re hoping.” He paused. “Any news on your end?”

  After sitting in her chair, Cassidy told him about the chase last night at Lisa and Braden’s wedding shower. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  “Thanks, Chief. Oh, and there is one more thing I thought I should mention to you.”

  “What’s that?” Cassidy leaned back, hoping his news was something of value. She could use some good news.

  “As I’m sure you remember, several weeks ago, you and I talked about looking into Anthony Gilead after he claimed to have legally changed his name.”

  “Right, but we had to go state by state to find record of it, and, so far, we haven’t had any luck.” She sighed. The man almost seemed like a ghost sometimes.

  “Exactly. I thought I’d let you know that we got a hit.”

  Cassidy’s pulse spiked. “Please share.”

  “It was from down in Florida. It turns out that Anthony Gilead’s real name is Gerrard Becker. He legally changed it three years ago.”

  “Is that all you know?”

  “So far. We just got the report back this morning, so I haven’t had time to look into it any further. But I knew you’d want to know right away.”

  “Thanks for sharing,” Cassidy said. “On that note, maybe I should let you know that Anthony Gilead—aka Gerrard Becker—just completed all the paperwork, and he’s now officially running for mayor.”

  “Mayor of Lantern Beach?” Abbott sounded just as surprised as Cassidy felt.

  “That’s the one.”

  “That’s . . . disturbing, to say the least. I’d hate to see what that man would do if he was in power. Your job will become ten times harder, for sure, if he’s your boss.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Abbott let out a soft, thoughtful grunt before asking, “Any ideas on how to stop him?”

  “I’m about to look into the legalities of his run. Gilead, of course, has to be a resident for at least ninety days. He’s a smart man, so I’m pretty sure he’s covered all his bases. But one can hope . . .”

  “If it makes you feel better, I’m sure no one will vote for him.”

  Cassidy wanted to believe the same. But she’d seen the impossible happen before. And that was the last thing she wanted to see happen here on Lantern Beach.

  Three hours later, Cassidy took a sip from her water bottle and stared at the computer screen. Gerrard Becker. Thirty-three years old. Originally from a small town in Delaware. His dad had worked for the railroad. His mom had been an RN.

  Gerrard had gone to college to study theology and had pastored a small congregation for two years after graduation. But there were four years missing from his timeline. There was no job record. No social media presence. No financial information.

  Nothing.

  So where had the man gone for four years? Had Gerrard been in the Middle East, looking for the ancient book of Makir like he claimed? If so, why were there no articles published on his so-called accomplishment? And why had he changed his name? People didn’t do that for no reason.

  Cassidy leaned back in her chair, thinking things through and trying to figure out if she could in some way leverage this information to help see Serena in person.

  Maybe Cassidy could call Gilead’s mom or dad. Some old college co-eds. See what she could learn about the man.

  The more she knew, the more knowledge Cassidy would be armed with when she went into battle.

  The phone rang. It was Abbott again. At least he was staying true to his word and keeping her in the loop.

  “Hey, Abbott,” she answered.

  “I think we have a hit on one of the victims.”

  Cassidy sat up, curiosity pulsing through her. “What did you find out?”

  “There’s someone in a missing person’s report who matches the description of our victim with scoliosis. She disappeared about six months ago, so the timeline adds up.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Her name was Reagan Craven. She was t
wenty-eight, and she grew up in eastern Kentucky.”

  Eastern Kentucky . . . that could potentially be a connection with Gilead. His hunting ground when starting the cult had been in the West Virginia area, and the two states backed up to each other.

  “Did you talk to her family?” Cassidy asked.

  “As a matter of fact, yes. I talked to her father. Reagan was an only child. She left home and said she needed a new start. She and her father weren’t particularly close, so he didn’t keep tabs on her. But she’d mentioned starting over at the beach. It had always been her favorite place.”

  “So you’re thinking she came here to Lantern Beach to get her fresh start? Certainly someone would have noticed her if she’d become a permanent resident.”

  “You would think. Or she could have blended in with the tourists and become a hermit during the cooler months.”

  “Maybe. But that still doesn’t explain how she died.”

  “No, it doesn’t. But she wasn’t sick. Of course, we’re still testing the bones and DNA to figure out how these people died. But you might want to consider there could be a serial killer on the loose.”

  “A serial killer? I think that’s a bit extreme.”

  “Three bodies, Chief.”

  A chill washed over her, but Cassidy shoved her emotions aside. “So, will you keep digging? See if you can find some of her friends?”

  “Of course. I just wanted to give you that update in case it triggered anything.”

  “It’s not my case, but do you mind if I talk to some people around here and see if anyone recognizes her?”

  “No, I’d appreciate the help. I’ll send her photo.”

  “Sounds good.”

  As Cassidy hung up, another text message came in. This one was from Mac.

  Gilead doing rally down at boardwalk.

  What? The man was trying to win over the locals as well?

  Cassidy slipped on her jacket and called Ty.

  She wanted to go see this for herself.

  But, even more than that, she wanted to figure out a way to put an end to the craziness before it got even more out of control.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ty stood with Mac and Wes and listened as Anthony Gilead spoke from behind a small podium on a portable stage.

  The ocean crashed behind the man, creating a picturesque scene perfect for magazine covers or social media. Even the sun seemed to cooperate as it shone down from above like a spotlight that both drew attention and offered a touch of warmth to anyone who gathered.

  Just what Gilead had been hoping for, Ty had to assume.

  The man wore a dark suit with a blue tie and smiled, showing his pearly whites. He was a master manipulator. And now he was trying to use his charm to become mayor.

  Why? Why would he do this?

  Power, Ty decided. This was all about power.

  And a man who wanted to be in power that badly was the last person who should be in power. That was Ty’s experience, at least.

  “I’ve got to say, the man has a good stage presence,” Wes whispered beside him. Wes, one of Ty’s closest friends, was a part-time plumber, part-time kayak guide, and certified bachelor.

  “He’s a classic narcissist.” Mac scowled at the stage.

  “You’re not feeling threatened, are you?” Wes ribbed Mac.

  Mac’s scowl only deepened. “Threatened? By him? No. I’ve got different tactics. Old-fashioned ones. I’m going door-to-door to talk to residents.”

  Someone sidled up beside him. Ty looked over and spotted Cassidy. She squeezed his arm, but her gaze was fixated on the stage.

  “He’s actually got a crowd?” she muttered. “Are these all folks from Gilead’s Cove?”

  “We couldn’t be that lucky,” Ty said. “These are mostly locals, with a few vacationers thrown in.”

  “How did he put this together so quickly?” Cassidy’s eyes crinkled at the edges, as if she were perplexed. “You have to have permits for this stuff.”

  “It doesn’t take long to be approved down at the town administration office,” Mac said. “Gilead probably got the permit last night after his application was filed and approved. He could have received word this morning and set this up.”

  They grew silent as Gilead’s words became louder, more adamant.

  “I believe that Lantern Beach is a great place and that, under the right leadership, it can be even greater,” Gilead said as people around him cheered. “I believe we should keep the old-fashioned charm of this area. We need to stay small—that’s why people come here. Because Lantern Beach is different. Because it’s warm—and I’m not talking about the temperature in the summer. I’m talking about people’s hospitality.”

  More cheers.

  Ty could hardly stand to watch it.

  “We know his real name,” Cassidy leaned closer and muttered. “It’s Gerrard Becker. He’s from Delaware.”

  Ty’s pulse spiked, and he gladly turned his attention away from this mockery of a speech being given. “Anything else?”

  “I just got the information before you called, so I still have to dig deeper. But there is a strange absence in his timeline of about four years. There’s nothing on him during that period.”

  Could that be because Gilead was in the Middle East? Ty thought it could be a possibility. Something about the man seemed familiar, but the memories felt buried and unreachable.

  “How long ago?” Ty whispered.

  “Six years ago is when he disappeared from everyone’s radar,” Cassidy said. “He jumped back onto the scene as Anthony Gilead two years ago, and it’s led to this.”

  Six years ago? That’s when Ty had been a SEAL. When he’d been in the Middle East. When he’d performed that rescue that had changed his life.

  He still thought Gilead had some kind of connection to the ordeal, but he just couldn’t figure out what.

  They all went quiet for a moment and listened to Gilead again.

  “I believe Lantern Beach is the greatest place in the world and that it’s filled with the greatest people in the world.” Gilead flashed his million-dollar smile, his teeth gleaming in the sunlight. “But everything can be made better. The cost of living here has skyrocketed. I know that you’ve been taxed too much for too long, and I want to change that.”

  A cheer rose from the crowd.

  Ty’s eyebrows flickered up. These people were buying what Gilead had to say. What were they thinking? Couldn’t they see through him?

  “Money isn’t everything, but with money comes freedom. Freedom to do what you want. To live how you want. To make yourself a better person. To make the community a better place. That’s why I believe we need to see more of our money in our own pockets.”

  Another cheer.

  Mac grunted beside Ty.

  “Certainly people know it’s not as easy as he makes it sound,” Mac said. “These are great promises that are hard to deliver on. He obviously has no idea how the system works. Next thing you know, he’s going to want to ban cars on the island and make everyone ride bicycles and get solar panels. We can be a self-sustaining island, just like his little Gilead’s Cove is trying to be.”

  Just then, Gilead’s gaze fell on Ty, and the man’s smile changed from a plastic politician to someone with an underlying agenda—one that was directed at Ty.

  Where do I know you from? Ty mused. Where?

  That question would continue to haunt Ty until he had some answers.

  After the guys left to help Lisa move some tables for the wedding reception, Cassidy remained at the boardwalk. She watched as the crowd began to clear after Gilead’s rally. She looked at each of the people present.

  Laney Fredrickson? Bill Williams? Jack Melvin?

  Why in the world had these locals come out to support this man? How had they even heard about the rally with such short notice? Cassidy suspected that Gilead had been planning this for longer than it appeared.

  A few people stuck around to talk to Gilead, but Cas
sidy’s attention remained on the two men on either side of Gilead.

  She’d seen one man with him before. She thought his name was Enoch. The other she didn’t recognize. But they were almost acting as bodyguards for the man. Did he see himself as a superstar? Most likely, yes.

  Cassidy waited until everyone else had cleared before approaching Gilead. He seemed to try and disarm her with his bright smile, but charm had never worked on Cassidy.

  “I’m so glad you could make it,” Gilead started, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and leaning back casually. “It’s always nice to see your beautiful face.”

  “I wasn’t here to support you.” Cassidy’s jaw clenched as she said the words. How could the man be so glib right now?

  His smile remained unfazed. “Well, a man can dream, right?”

  Cassidy stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Why are you doing this, Gilead? Why are you running for office? What do you want to prove?”

  “So many questions.” His tone sounded mocking.

  Cassidy crossed her arms, waiting for a real answer.

  Gilead tugged at his sleeves and smiled at someone who walked past, transforming into a showman type of politician before reverting back to the sleazy cult leader Cassidy knew he was.

  “I want to make the island better, of course.” Gilead’s gaze fell on Cassidy again. “I’ve always been interested in politics.”

  Cassidy didn’t buy it. “Why here?”

  “I meant my earlier words. Lantern Beach is a slice of heaven. Why not Lantern Beach? That would be the better question.”

  “It was one thing when you set up your little community here on the island. We’re not going to let you take over this entire town, though. I already know you’ve been buying up properties whenever you have the chance. No doubt, you’re using the money of the people who follow you.”

  His eyebrows flickered up. “It’s always tricky for police chiefs to espouse their political views. I’d hate for the current mayor to find out about that, if you did. I heard he’s looking for a reason to fire you.”