Scene of the Crime: Bridgewater, Texas

by Carla Cassidy

  “I’m sorry, Matt.” Once again she looked away from him, as if unable to hold his gaze. “It just wouldn’t work.”

  “Then she wins again,” he said softly. She stiffened and her eyes blazed with a hint of anger as she glared at him. Good, he thought. This was better than the cool, emotionless shell she’d crawled into. “She kept you from having the family you wanted when you were young and her influence now keeps you from reaching out for the future you want. She wins, Jenna, and you lose.”

  He walked back over to the table and picked up his coffee cup. “You told me you weren’t a quitter, but you’re quitting on yourself. You’re quitting on us.” He raised the cup to his lips and drained the last of his coffee and then set the cup back on the table. “Now, you ready to leave? I need to get to work.”

  He was hoping for an explosion from her. He was hoping he’d be able to pierce through the thick body armor that she wore to keep her heart and her soul safe from harm.

  Her nostrils flared and for a moment he thought he was going to get his wish, but she merely drew a deep breath and shoved off from the counter.

  “Fine, let’s get out of here,” she said and headed for the front door.

  HE SAT IN HIS CAR UP the street and watched as Matt and Jenna headed down the sidewalk. He’d suspected she might be here, that she’d run to the sheriff when she’d gotten the roses at Miranda’s place.

  The early morning sunshine played in her hair and he remembered another woman’s hair spilling through his fingertips as her blue eyes smiled at him.

  The familiar rage built up inside him. Jenna Taylor was just like the others, playing with a man’s emotions with no intention of giving away her heart.

  He squeezed his hands into fists as his heartbeat accelerated. The thought of piercing her false, betraying heart with his knife made him feel more alive than he’d felt in years.

  One thing was certain. He knew Agent Jenna Taylor thought she understood what he was about, how he worked. What she didn’t know was that he had no intention of playing his ritual out to the end.

  Before the night was over, Jenna Taylor would not only receive two more roses, but the final one that would mark the end of her life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jenna wanted to hate him. As she lowered herself on a bench just outside the sheriff’s office, she tried to work up a healthy dose of hatred for Matt Buchannan, but she couldn’t.

  She’d sat inside his office for only a few minutes and already the beginning of a tension headache was starting to knock at the back of her skull.

  She’d needed some fresh air and some distance from the man who tantalized her with the offer of all the things she’d told herself she never wanted, she refused to need.

  With her gun inside her purse and her purse right next to her side, she felt no fear as she narrowed her eyes against the bright sunshine and leaned back against the bench.

  Her mind suddenly filled with a vision of laughing children who looked like Matt and family meals around his kitchen table. She thought of all the stories he’d told her about his childhood, about movie nights with his family and baseball games with his parents and sisters sitting on the bleachers watching him pitch.

  The yearning that filled her pierced her with a bittersweet pang. Family. Children. She knew she’d be a good mother because she’d work to be the kind she’d never had.

  He’d told her all she had to do was open herself up, allow the love into her heart, but he had no idea how thick was the shield she’d erected around herself from the time she’d been a child.

  Emma and George Harris had insisted she go to counseling right after they’d brought her into their home. Once a week for two years she’d gone to talk to a counselor about her life, her mother and what her future might hold.

  Intellectually, Jenna had long ago processed the fact that her mother had been a drug addict who’d chosen her lifestyle over her daughter. Jenna had understood that it hadn’t been something wrong with her, but rather with the woman who had given birth to her.

  But even knowing all that and talking about it ad nauseum hadn’t been able to heal the hurt that lingered in her soul, that built the walls of protection that would never allow her to be hurt like that again.

  The thought of dropping those barriers terrified her, but the thought of missing out forever on all the things life with Matt had to offer also broke her heart.

  She told herself that it was ridiculous to think about loving Matt. She’d known him for only a week and yet she knew him better, felt more deeply for him than she ever had another man.

  The truth was she’d never been more confused in her life. Maybe the best thing to do, the easiest would be to pack her suitcase and move into the motel until she decided to leave town.

  She couldn’t stand the idea of going back to Matt’s house, of seeing the want, the love in his eyes and maintaining her distance.

  How she wished Miranda were still alive. How she would love a sit-down, woman-to-woman talk about Matt, about love, about life.

  “Catching a little sun, Agent Taylor?”

  The familiar deep voice snapped her eyes open and she grabbed her purse to her side as she looked up at Patrick Johnson. “Just relaxing a bit,” she replied as every muscle in her body tensed.

  “How much longer are you in town?”

  “Looking to get rid of me, Dr. Johnson?” she asked.

  “Not at all.” He offered her a smile that held no warmth. “Whether you stay here or not has nothing to do with me. I just would prefer it if you’d stay out of my personal life, stop talking to people about me.”

  She sat up straighter on the bench. “We’re conducting a murder investigation, Dr. Johnson, and that means we’re asking questions and digging into the personal lives of lots of people.”

  “You aren’t even officially on the case,” he scoffed.

  His overt antipathy toward her vaguely surprised her. Was he threatened by her? Afraid that she might discover something he didn’t want her to know?

  “Sheriff Buchannan is using me as a consultant,” she replied. And I’m using myself as bait, she added mentally.

  “Well, if you’re spending a lot of time checking me out, then you’re wasting your time,” he said. “Believe it or not, I have a fairly good reputation in this town and I don’t want it tarnished just because I did a little flirting with a pretty new waitress.”

  At that moment Matt stepped out of the office. “Morning, Patrick,” he said. His easy tone didn’t quite hide an edge in his voice. “Problems?” He looked from Patrick to Jenna.

  “Not at all,” Jenna replied quickly. “Patrick and I were just visiting.”

  “And now I’ve got to get to work,” Patrick said with a glance at his watch. “Nice talking to you,” he said to Jenna and then with a nod to Matt, he walked on down the sidewalk toward his office.

  “What was that about?” Matt asked.

  “I have a feeling he found out that I’d contacted his old girlfriend and he wasn’t particularly happy about it,” she replied. “But there was no need for you to run out like a knight in shining armor,” she said.

  He gave her one of the smiles that always warmed her, that always twisted her heart. “I could be your permanent port in the storm, your knight in shining armor if you’d just let me.”

  She got up from the bench. “I’m not a princess and I certainly don’t need a knight. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it since I was three. I’m going for a walk.” She grabbed her purse and started down the sidewalk, conscious of his gaze lingering on her until she reached the next block.

  As she came to the shop that sold stained glass, the same place where June Alexander had worked, her breath caught in her chest as she eyed the beautiful creations that hung in the window and caught the morning light.

  She stepped inside and a bell tinkled overhead to announce her entry. A thin, older man looked up and greeted her with a smile. “Welcome,” he said. “I’m Stan, th
e owner of this place. If I can help you with anything, just let me know.”

  For a few minutes Jenna walked around the store, enjoying the variety and beauty of the items for sale. “I understand June Alexander used to work for you,” she finally said.

  Stan looked at her in surprise. “Yes, she did. Are you a friend of hers?”

  Jenna introduced herself and Stan frowned. “Terrible thing what happened to those women. You expect things like that in a big city but not in a small town like Bridgewater. Why did you ask about June?”

  “I understand she was dating Patrick Johnson at one time.”

  Stan narrowed his eyes. “You think Doc Johnson had something to do with what happened to those women?”

  “We’re just doing some follow-up questioning,” she replied.

  They chatted for a few more minutes, but Jenna learned nothing more than she’d already known. When she left the store she looked up and down the street, trying to decide where to go next. She didn’t want to go back to the sheriff’s office with Matt.

  The streets were busy with people walking up and down the sidewalks, taking care of errands before the sun got too hot.

  She finally settled once again on a bench across the street from the café. Bud. Leroy. Patrick. The three names of their top suspects whirled around in her brain. Was one of them the man they sought, or had the killer stayed off their radar completely?

  As a profiler, she’d worked a lot of serial cases and few killers managed to commit the perfect crimes. Eventually he’d make a mistake, but how many women would die before that happened?

  The local media had been informed that any woman receiving long-stem roses from a secret admirer should contact Matt immediately, but what if the murderer changed things up in an effort to continue his killing spree?

  Three or four days from now it would no longer be her problem. Hopefully she’d be back in Kansas City. She’d come here wanting to find justice for Miranda’s murder, had doubted that the local small-town authorities would be able to get the job done.

  She no longer doubted Matt and his team’s abilities. With or without her help they’d eventually find the guilty party.

  And eventually Matt would find love with a woman who was all the things he wanted, all the things she was not. She was surprised by how this thought sent an aching arrow of pain through her.

  You told me you’re not a quitter, but you’re quitting on yourself. You’re quitting on us.

  Matt’s words played in her head. He was right. And she wasn’t just a quitter, she was a coward, afraid to hope that he and she could make something special, something lasting. She was fearful to allow herself to believe in anything remotely resembling happiness. She was only thirty years old and she’d already given up on herself, on life.

  She remained on the bench until afternoon, when the streets grew silent and the sun bore down on her with such intensity that a headache blossomed and pounded at her skull.

  Twice in the last couple of hours she’d seen one of the deputies step out of the sheriff’s office and glance her way and she knew Matt had instructed them to keep an eye on her.

  It was just after two when she finally gave up the bench and went into the café. The lunch crowd had all left and it was way too early for the dinner crowd to have arrived. The place was empty except for Michael who was wiping down the countertop.

  “Where is everyone?” she asked as she sat on a stool in front of him.

  “Sally ran home for her lunch break and I never know for sure where Leroy goes on his breaks. He took off about five minutes ago.”

  “I’m sure he went wherever it’s cool. It’s a scorcher out there today.” She reached for the glass of iced water he had poured for her.

  Michael frowned. “I hate it when it gets this hot. My lunch business goes down the tubes. And speaking of business, what can I get you?”

  “How about a club sandwich and a glass of iced tea,” Jenna said.

  “Be right back.” He disappeared into the kitchen area but returned almost immediately, his eyes wide. “Agent Taylor, you’ve got to see this,” he said.

  “What? What’s going on?” A burst of adrenaline ripped through her as she slid off the stool and grabbed her gun from her purse.

  Michael shook his head, tears filling his eyes as he gestured for her to follow him. “I knew that boy was going to be trouble, but I had no idea how far he’d go.”

  Leroy! Was he the man they’d been seeking to find?

  She held her gun in front of her as she trailed him through the silent kitchen and toward the backdoor.

  Michael leaned weakly against the door jamb, a sick pallor on his face as he gestured her through the door.

  Jenna took a step outside into the alley. All her senses were on alert as she smelled the odor of rotting fruits and vegetables coming from the nearby Dumpster, felt the heat that was rising from the asphalt, but saw nothing that might have disturbed Michael.

  A tiny alarm sounded in her brain but before she could respond to it, something crashed into the back of her skull and darkness rushed up to grab her.

  IT WAS DIFFICULT FOR Matt to concentrate on the files in front of him when all he could think about was Jenna. Jenna with her stubborn, independent streak, Jenna with her acerbic sense of humor and intelligence, she’d crawled into his heart and lodged herself there.

  She’d spent the entire day outside, sitting on first one bench and then another and he knew she was braving the heat to avoid any contact with him.

  He hadn’t worried too much about her being out there alone. She’d reminded him before she left that she had a gun and she was on guard. Besides, it was daylight and there were people around. The killer wouldn’t take a chance when there might be witnesses.

  Had Matt gotten through to her at all? Had his words of love found purchase in her heart? Somehow he didn’t think so and the thought that she would walk away from him hurt far more than he’d expected.

  He wanted it all again, love and marriage and the possibility of children and he wanted it with Jenna. He wanted to begin each day with her next to him in bed and complete the day the same way.

  “Sheriff, I just wanted to let you know that I don’t see her on the street anywhere,” Joey said from his doorway.

  “She probably went in some place out of the heat,” Matt replied. “Thanks, Joey.”

  As Joey left, Matt stared back down at the file open in front of him. It was Miranda’s murder book. Had her best friend’s murder forever closed the door to Jenna’s heart?

  He closed the file and got up from his desk as his stomach growled with hunger pangs. He hadn’t had breakfast and he’d skipped lunch and if he had to guess where Jenna had gone to beat the heat, it was probably the café.

  Maybe he’d just head down to the café and order a piece of Michael’s pie. The sugar fix would get him through until dinner time.

  Hell, who was he kidding? He wanted to check up on Jenna and maybe, just maybe he would say something or do something that would make her realize she belonged with him forever.

  He stepped out of his inner office and saw Joey and Abe at their desks. Abe was on the phone, calling floral shops, as he’d been doing for the last week.

  “Maybe I’ll take a walk up the street and see if I can get a glimpse of the elusive Agent Taylor,” he said to Joey. “And I think I’ll stop in at the café. I’ve been thinking about a piece of Michael’s lemon pie.”

  Joey grinned appreciatively. “Michael does make great pies.”

  “His lemon is the best on the face of the earth,” Matt replied.

  He stepped out of the building and caught his breath as the heat slapped him in the face. Today definitely had to be the hottest day so far this summer.

  He started down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace, checking the shops he passed for some sign of Jenna. It had definitely gotten too hot for her to be comfortable sitting outside.

  Drat the woman anyway. She could have come into the sheriff’
s office if she wasn’t so stubborn, if she wasn’t so hard-headed. If she wasn’t so wounded, a little voice whispered.

  And she was wounded by a childhood of neglect, by a mother who refused to do the right thing and release her so she could truly feel loved and like she belonged.

  The real question was if she was too damaged to reach out? Even if she couldn’t find love with him he hoped she eventually found it with somebody else. He wanted her to love, to be loved.

  He walked down Main Street one side and up the other and finally walked through the door into the cool interior of the café.

  Ralph Cotter and Raymond Sinclair sat at the counter arguing about politics while Leroy stood behind it, looking harassed and irritated.

  “Ralph. Raymond,” Matt said as he slid onto a stool next to the two older men. “Solved the world problems yet?” The two men were both widowers and neighbors and often met for coffee and a rousing debate at the café.

  “How can I fix the world when I can’t even get this one fool to listen to me?” Ralph exclaimed.

  “Huh, I’m not the fool around here,” Raymond replied. “But there’s definitely a fool sitting next to me.”

  Matt smiled and looked at Leroy. “Has Jenna been in?”

  Leroy poured coffee for Ralph and Raymond. “Not that I know, but I just got back from my break and I don’t even know where Michael is.”

  “I’d like to know where my burger is,” Ralph said.

  “It’s coming, it’s coming.” Leroy looked at Matt. “What do you want?”

  “Just a piece of pie,” Matt replied.

  “I’ve got to go turn those burgers. The pies are in the cooler if you want to come back with me and grab the kind you want,” Leroy said as he set the coffeepot down and hurried back toward the kitchen.

  “Poor kid can’t do more than one thing at a time,” Ralph said. “I like it better when Michael’s here to wait on us.”

  Matt got off his stool and walked around the counter and into the kitchen where Leroy stood in front of the grill. “He always yells at me when I’m a second late getting back from a break, but I got back on time a few minutes ago and the whole place was empty. Pies are on the second shelf. As far as I’m concerned you can take the whole thing with you.”