“Did she mention anyone she was interested in? Maybe a man who’d caught her eye?” Jenna asked.
“No, although she did tell me she thought somebody was interested in her, kind of like a secret admirer.”
Jenna sat up straighter in her chair. “A secret admirer? Why would she think that?”
Maggie shrugged, but Matt had a feeling he knew the answer. The roses. Somehow the roses were the key, but damned if he could figure it out.
“She didn’t go into any details, but we spent some time speculating on who might have a crush on her,” Maggie said.
“And who did you come up with?” Jenna asked as she pulled a small pad and pen from her purse.
“Oh, it was just pure speculation,” Maggie said. “We thought it might be Leroy Banks.” She looked at Matt. “You know he works as a busboy and cook at the café. Then we thought it might be Doc Johnson. When Miranda began working at the café he started coming in for both lunch and dinner and he always sat in her section.”
Jenna wrote down both names, her brow furrowed in thought. “Anyone else?” she asked as she looked at Maggie once again.
Matt leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee, content to let her do the talking. She’d obviously established a rapport with Maggie before he’d arrived and if she wanted to do his work for him, at least for the moment, he wasn’t complaining.
“Bud Carlson. He’s kind of a jerk, he has that whole bad-boy thing going on, but Miranda told me she thought he was kind of sexy.”
“Did he act like he liked her?” Jenna asked.
Maggie frowned. “Bud flirted with her a lot. I told her that he was bad news and she should stay away from him.” Once again tears filled her eyes. “Do you think Bud did this to her?”
Matt sat up straighter in his chair. “Maggie, we have no evidence to suggest that Bud had anything to do with it.” The last thing he wanted or needed was for rumors to start swirling around and fingers pointing at a man who might be innocent.
“I don’t know what else to tell you,” Maggie said, directing her gaze to Jenna. “I’ve done nothing but think about this since the minute I found her dead, but I can’t think of anything else that might help.”
Once again Jenna reached across the table and took Maggie’s hand in hers. “You’ve been a big help, Maggie.” She smiled warmly and Matt felt the power of that smile igniting a tiny fire in the pit of his stomach.
Jenna looked at Matt. “You have anything you want to ask, Sheriff?”
He found it oddly amusing that somehow she had taken control and cast him in the role of second banana. “No, I think you’ve pretty much taken care of things.” He got up from the table and Jenna and Maggie did the same.
“Thanks for the coffee, Maggie,” he said as they reached the front door.
He wasn’t surprised when Maggie reached out to hug Jenna. What surprised him was the play of emotions that swept across Jenna’s face as she returned the hug. Raw and vulnerable, they flashed for just a moment and then were gone as she stepped back from Maggie.
“We’ll be in touch,” she said and then she stepped out of the door.
Matt fell into step beside her as they went down the sidewalk. “Partner, huh?”
“I didn’t tell her that, she just assumed it,” she said without apology. As they reached her car she leaned against the driver’s door. “Tell me about the men she mentioned. I can’t believe she didn’t say anything to me about a secret admirer.”
“Maybe she was waiting until she knew who it was before talking to you about it,” he said and then continued. “Leroy Banks is a thirty-year-old who works as a busboy. He’s the nephew of Michael Brown, the owner of the café. He moved here about six months ago.”
Matt tried not to notice how the sun sparked in her hair, making it look soft and touchable. Standing this close to her he could smell her scent, that pleasant clean, citrus fragrance that he’d noticed before.
“Doc Johnson is actually Patrick Johnson, our local veterinarian,” he continued. “He’s thirty-four and has always been a stand-up kind of guy. His office is next door to the café. Bud Carlson is in his late twenties, owns his own home improvement business and considers himself something of a ladies’ man.”
He frowned as he thought of Bud. “He drinks too much, has a hot temper and is the first one to look for a fight.”
“Have you talked to any of these three?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t know about them having anything to do with Miranda. You got more out of Maggie over a cup of coffee than I got in an hour-long interview just after the murder.” He fought against a sigh of frustration.
Before she could reply his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and answered.
“Sheriff, it’s Joey. I just got a call from George Hudson. He was hysterical, said Carolyn Cox is dead—murdered. He told me she was in her bed and she’d been stabbed. It sounds like the other one, just like Miranda’s murder.”
Matt’s stomach clenched tightly. “I’m on my way. Get Thad and Jerry to meet me there.” He clicked off the phone and dropped it back into his pocket.
“What?” Jenna asked.
“It looks like we might have another murder,” he said.
“I’ll follow you,” she replied, as if there were no question that she was coming along.
He didn’t have time to argue with her, nor was he sure he wanted to. If the information that Joey had given him was true, it meant Miranda Harris wasn’t an isolated case. It was quite possible that a serial killer was working in his town.
Chapter Four
Jenna followed Matt’s car, her heart thudding a familiar rhythm. It was the rhythm of the hunt. If what Matt said was true, then there was a killer in this town, somebody who had killed not once, but twice.
She caught killers. That’s what she did. If this murder was anything like Miranda’s, then surely Matt wouldn’t turn down her offer to help now.
He pulled up in front of an attractive duplex where a man was seated in the middle of the front yard sobbing. He pulled himself to his feet as Matt got out of his car and approached. Jenna parked just behind Matt’s vehicle and also got out.
“She’s dead, oh God, she’s dead,” the man sobbed, then reeled sideways and retched onto the grass. “She’d invited me to have breakfast with her. I got here and the door was unlocked, so I went in.” Each word came on a pained gasp and by that time a patrol car had arrived and two deputies got out.
“Jerry, take care of George, and Thad, get Raymond and Justin here, then start canvassing the area to see if any of the neighbors saw or heard anything.” Matt barked the orders sharply, his features taut with tension.
He went to the back of his car and opened the trunk, then pulled out a pair of gloves and booties. Jenna joined him there and looked at him expectantly. He pulled a second pair of gloves and booties from the trunk and handed them to her.
He didn’t say a word as she followed him to the front porch. There they put on the crime scene gear, then entered into a small, neat living room.
“Carolyn Cox,” he said as he looked around. “I think she’s twenty-eight or twenty-nine years old and works as a dental assistant.”
As he filled her in, Jenna looked around the room, knowing that every square inch of the duplex had the potential of containing a clue.
He went directly down the hallway and peeked into the master bedroom, then looked back at her and shook his head and returned to where she stood.
“No need for an ambulance,” he said and began to look around the room where they stood.
She was pleased that he seemed to work the way she did, slowly and methodically, not rushing into where the body was but rather allowing the scene to speak to him in subtle nuances.
“No sign of a struggle,” he said more to himself than to her. “No sign of forced entry at the front door.” He walked over to the two living room windows. “Both locked.”
She followed him into the kitc
hen, equally as neat and tidy as the living room had been. Carolyn Cox might have intended to have a breakfast guest, but she’d never gotten a chance to start the preparations for a meal. The only thing on the table was a vase of long-stem red roses, roses that Matt stared at for a long moment as a muscle in his jaw worked overtime.
“Let’s go see our victim and the scene of the crime,” he finally said.
She nodded and steeled herself for death. The scent of it hung in the air as they went down the hallway. It was a smell more familiar to Jenna than the scent of her own mother.
Matt paused in front of the master bedroom. “You okay?” he asked.
“Right as rain,” she replied and then they both stepped into the room.
Jenna couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her as she saw the victim. Carolyn Cox in life had been an attractive brunette with blue eyes. She was clad in a pair of summer pajamas, the center of the blouse saturated with blood. On top of the blood sat a single red rose.
Jenna shot a quick glance at Matt. “Is this how you found Miranda?” she asked. “With the rose on her chest?”
He gave a curt nod as he stepped closer to the bed. “She doesn’t appear to have any defensive wounds.”
“So, was she killed while sleeping or did she get up and answer the door?”
“We’ll know more after Justin gets here,” he replied.
“Justin?”
“Our local undertaker and working coroner,” he said. He backed away from the bed and surveyed the room. Jenna walked over to the window and noted that it was locked.
Jenna found herself looking everywhere but at the victim, afraid that Miranda’s face would be superimposed over Carolyn’s in her mind. “I’m going to check all the other windows in the house.”
He nodded and she left the room. As she checked the other windows her mind whirled. The killer had staged the body with a rose. The rose meant something, but what?
Behavioral analysis, that’s what she did best. Somehow she had to take the behavior and study it and come up with a profile that would help identify the killer. It was a high-stakes mind game with the built-in time line of catching him before he killed again.
If the same person had killed both Miranda and Carolyn, then there had been only three days between the crimes. That short period of time was both unusual and unsettling.
She returned to the bedroom where Matt stood at the foot of the bed, taking notes in a pad, his expression grim. “My boys are here to take the crime scene photos and collect evidence.” He closed the pad and looked at her, his eyes a flat metal gray that gave nothing away. “You said you wanted to be involved in this. If you’re still offering, then I’m accepting.”
“Then I’m in,” she said, pleased that he was a man who was strong enough to ask for help. “I’ll need to see everything you have from Miranda’s case and of course everything we get from this one.”
“Done.”
At that moment two deputies entered the room with their evidence collection kits. As they began their work, Jenna and Matt went outside to interview George.
It was nearing dusk when everything that could be done had been done at the scene. Carolyn’s body had been taken away, the neighborhood had been canvassed for anyone who might have seen anything and interviews had been finished.
Jenna and Matt were walking toward their cars when her stomach growled so loudly she knew he’d heard it. “You missed lunch,” he said.
“I missed breakfast and lunch,” she replied.
“Want to grab a bite at the café? Maybe we can catch up with Leroy there and ask him a few questions while we’re at it,” he suggested.
“Sounds good,” she agreed. “I’ll meet you there.”
Minutes later as she drove toward the café she thought about what she’d learned about Matt Buchannan over the course of the afternoon.
It had been obvious that the men who worked for him not only respected him but also wanted to please him. It spoke well of his ability to lead.
She’d watched him directing his men in the evidence collection and hadn’t been able to find fault. Her initial assessment of him as a small-town incompetent had completely turned around. The man was sharp and focused and had been one step ahead of her all afternoon.
The dinner rush was gone by the time she and Matt walked into the café. He gestured her toward a table in the back where they would have more privacy to talk.
A big burly man ambled out of the kitchen to their table. “Hey, Matt,” he said as he wiped his hands on his white apron. “Heard you’ve had a rough day.”
“I guess news travels fast,” Matt replied. “This is FBI Special Agent Jenna Taylor. Jenna, this is the owner of this place, Michael Brown.”
“Nice to meet you,” Michael said. “So, you’ve called in the FBI?” he asked Matt.
“I’m here unofficially,” Jenna replied. “I was a friend of Miranda Harris.”
Michael winced. “I’m sorry for your loss. Hell, I’m sorry for my loss. She was a keeper, that one.”
“Leroy working tonight?” Matt asked.
“Yeah, he’s back in the kitchen washing dishes. Why?” Michael’s friendly smile became more guarded.
“We’d like to have a little chat with him,” Jenna said. She offered the big man a sweet smile. “We’re speaking with everyone who worked here with Miranda.”
“I’ll have him come out and talk to you. In the meantime what can I get you to eat?” He took their orders and then headed back toward the kitchen.
“You questioned him?” Jenna asked Matt.
“Michael was one of the first people I talked to. I figured he’d know better than anyone if Miranda was having any problems with her coworkers.”
“You know this has all the earmarks of a serial,” she said softly.
“Officially it take three deaths to qualify as a serial,” he replied.
Again he’d surprised her with his knowledge. “That’s true, but in both cases there’s an element of a ritual. Were there any drugs found in Miranda’s system?”
“The toxicology screens haven’t come back yet,” he replied. “Why?”
“I’m trying to figure out how somebody would subdue those women in their beds and stab them. He either had to be big enough to overwhelm them or use a gun or some other weapon to control them.” Her mind worked to make sense of what little they knew, but she just didn’t have enough information yet.
“Actually, there were ligature marks around Miranda’s wrists and ankles. They were on Carolyn as well.”
She looked at him in dismay. “First the roses, now this. Is there anything else you’ve neglected to mention?”
“Just that I think you have a really pretty smile and that you should smile more often.”
His words hit her out of left field and to her surprise she felt the warmth of a blush stealing over her face. Before she could form an intelligent reply, a gangly young man approached their table.
“Leroy,” Matt said and kicked out an empty chair at the table. “Have a seat, we’d like to talk to you for a minute.”
Leroy Banks had the bad skin of a teenager and the weary gaze of somebody much older than his years. He sank down on the chair and eyed them both warily. “Am I in trouble?”
“I don’t know, have you done anything that would put you in trouble?” Matt countered.
He squirmed in his chair, as if finding their scrutiny intensely uncomfortable. “Not that I can think of, but Uncle Michael says I don’t think enough.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Jenna said and forced a smile. “I heard you were very nice and thoughtful to Miranda Harris.”
A spasm of pain raced across his features and the tips of his ears turned pink. “She is…was easy to be nice to. She was the nicest woman I’ve ever known and I can’t believe somebody murdered her.”
“Where were you on the morning of her murder?” Matt asked.
“Here. I’m always here. I open up in the morn
ings around five and I’m usually the last one here at night to close up. It’s pretty much that way every day seven days a week,” Leroy exclaimed.
As Matt asked him about his whereabouts that morning, she tried to concentrate on the conversation, but found herself instead focused on the man conducting it.
He thought she had a pretty smile and she thought he was hot as hell. It had been a long time since she’d felt a spark of electricity for any man, but she definitely felt it for Sheriff Matt Buchannan.
Now, all she had to do was figure out what, if anything she intended to do about it.
“THIS IS EVERYTHING I’VE got on Miranda so far,” Matt said as he handed Jenna a file. It was just after seven the next morning and Jenna was seated in the small conference room in the sheriff’s office.
She had her hair pulled back at her nape, exposing her graceful neck and emphasizing her cheekbones and round eyes. Clad in a pair of jeans and a turquoise T-shirt that hugged her slender curves, she looked fresh and sexy.
“I’ve got some administrative things to take care of in my office this morning, so I’ll just leave you to it and will check back in with you in about an hour,” he said.
She laid her hand on top of the file, as if reluctant to open it and looked up at him. “We’re going to get this guy, aren’t we, Matt?”
For the first time since he’d met her there was a touch of vulnerability in her eyes, in the slight tremor of her sexy full lower lip. “Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” he asked, knowing how difficult it would be for her to view the details of her friend’s murder.
She removed her hand from the top of the manila folder. “I have to be okay,” she replied. “I dreamed about Miranda last night and she was begging me to find her killer.” She sat up straighter in the chair, her eyes taking on a hard glint. “Both Carolyn and Miranda deserve justice and I intend to help get it for them.” She waved him toward the door. “Go, I’m fine.”
He left her there and went into his office where he had paperwork to take care of. Even when crime struck there were certain duties he couldn’t ignore as sheriff of the town.
Scene of the Crime: Bridgewater, Texas Page 4