Kill Shot

by Susan Sleeman

  “Kaci warned me to keep quiet, but I have to say, your bike is real pretty.” She grinned at him and waited for his response.

  “If you repeat this to anyone else I’ll deny it,” he said solemnly. “But she is real pretty, isn’t she?” His grin held a bit of devilment, and his gaze locked on her.

  He moved closer, his focus riveted to her. She waited, breath held, and he seemed to move in slow motion. The moment when she’d thought he planned to kiss her came rushing back. She’d stepped back then, but now she was powerless to move. He stopped close enough for her to catch his musky scent. She filled her lungs with air. Her heart open. Waiting. Hoping. Anticipating.

  He reached out. Expecting the softness of his touch on her face, she closed her eyes. The strap for her bag was lifted from her shoulder. Her eyes flew open.

  Rick stood watching her. “I’m getting hungry, how about you?”

  “For food,” she squeaked out.

  “Yeah, what did you think I meant?”

  “Nothing.”

  A knowing look crossed his face, and he colored a deep red. Mr. Big, Strong, Fearless Agent and Sniper was blushing. Oh, man, that was even more tempting, but she had to leave it alone. Focus on food. “I suppose you won’t have much in the refrigerator.”

  “I can scrounge something up. Worst case, I keep meals in the freezer that I prepared earlier so I know I’ll have food to come home to.”

  “You cook?”

  “Yeah, I find it relaxing.” He smiled. “You can close your mouth now. It’s not that shocking, is it?”

  “Um, yes, it is.”

  Chuckling, he headed inside the house, and she followed him down a hallway to a large living space. She’d expected closed-off rooms in the older house, not a contemporary space with vaulted ceilings. The open kitchen sat to the right, and a wall of windows at the back displayed a large deck and big yard.

  “Your home is beautiful. I expected…” She stopped before she offended him.

  “What? A bachelor pad filled with big leather furniture and a huge TV?”

  She nodded.

  “Nice to see I can surprise you so many times in a few minutes.” He set her bag on the floor. “And you were sure you had me all figured out.”

  “I’ll admit your house is totally not what I expected.”

  “Guess my mom’s taste rubbed off on me more than I thought.”

  “And Yolanda’s in the kitchen, I hope?”

  He chuckled and opened the refrigerator. “I’ve got soda, juice, and water.”

  “Water, please. I feel parched after this day.”

  “I’m sorry you had to sit and do nothing. That wasn’t in the plans.”

  She waved off his concern. “Did you learn anything that will help find the killer?”

  His eyes creased, a hint of despair coloring them. “That’s the thing about long-distance kills. The shooter doesn’t leave evidence behind at the crime scene. Sure, we can find his stand, but by the time we get there, it can be contaminated by people who had no idea they were trampling evidence. Today’s spot was a perfect example. Another public parking garage.”

  “But you found the saliva and paint at the garage in Mobile. And you have the fence post, too.”

  “Yes, and I’m still hoping they’ll produce a lead.” He opened the freezer. “Since it’s so warm out, why don’t I grill? I’ve got some great chops.”

  “Sure, if you’re up to it.”

  “Like I said, it relaxes me. Same reason I like riding my Harley.”

  “You do seem different here.”

  He took out a packet wrapped in white butcher paper and set it on a plate. “Different how?”

  She slid onto to a bar stool. “Softer. More talkative.”

  He popped the plate into the microwave and tapped buttons to send it whirring into action. He leaned back on the counter, crossing his ankles and placing his hands on the countertop behind him, drawing her attention to his powerful chest. “Guess this is where I feel the most comfortable. Not like at my parents’ house. I want my place to feel like it should be lived in. Not a showplace.”

  “It’s very warm and inviting. I like it.” And you.

  He pushed off the counter. “Why don’t we head outside? There should be some lettuce, tomatoes, and cukes in the garden if Cathy hasn’t picked it all.”

  “Okay, wait. A garden? That’s too much for me to believe.”

  “Since I’m gone a lot, my neighbor does most of the work, but she reaps the rewards, too. After multiple tours overseas and more MREs than I care to mention, I like knowing where my food comes from.”

  Olivia rested the back of her hand on her forehead and pretended to faint. “You can’t keep springing these surprises on me. I might not make it until morning.”

  He laughed hard, and after grabbing a colander, he came around the island to peer at her. “Would you like to see my garden or my cooking apron?”

  Her mouth fell open again.

  He crooked a finger under her chin and closed it. “Just kidding about the apron.”

  Laughing, he headed for the patio door, which he slid wide open to let the lovely breeze fill the stuffy house. She traipsed after him over a wide deck and down stairs to three raised garden beds. He circled each bed, his fingers dancing over the leaves, and she expected him to start humming any moment. He stopped at towering metal cages holding tall plants with red, yellow, and purple fruits.

  “All tomatoes?” she asked.

  “Yep.” He handed her the colander. “Here, hold this.”

  “You might be relaxed, but you’re still bossy in your garden.”

  That devilish grin returned, but he didn’t say a word.

  He plucked large red and yellow tomatoes from the vine and placed them in the colander. Next came a few purple ones and a few handfuls of cherry tomatoes. “The cherries are for snacking on while we wait for dinner.” He snapped a few branches from a lower-growing plant that she recognized as basil and dropped them in the colander.

  “Mmm, basil.” The sweet scent made her taste buds stand up and take notice. “How did you learn to garden?”

  “Traci.” His smile disappeared. “She loved it, so I decided to find out why.”

  “And did you find something besides knowing where your food comes from?”

  “I guess more of that peace that I mentioned.” He moved to another bed with a trellis covered in vines and started picking green beans and dropping them in with the tomatoes. “The lettuce has bolted in the heat, so we’ll have green beans.”

  “You keep mentioning peace. If you reconciled with your family, you might find it more often.”

  His head snapped up, and gone was the good humor. “Now you’ve gone to meddling.”

  He turned his attention back to the vines and forcefully tossed beans into the colander.

  She’d spoiled the mood. She opened her mouth to apologize but then snapped it shut. Maybe a bit of tension was a good thing, as it would keep them both from giving in tonight to feelings they had no business giving in to.

  Chapter 23

  Seated in a comfy chair at the patio table, Rick sliced into his thick chop grilled with honey barbeque sauce, but his usual joy in dining outside was missing. He wanted to relax and enjoy the meal with Olivia. Take a few moments away from the investigation to regroup and clear his head so that when he got back to it, he’d have sharper focus. Even more, he wanted Olivia to enjoy herself. She’d seemed to be having a good time until he’d blown up at her in the garden. She’d hardly said a word since then. He had to make things right.

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I was rude before.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.” She forked a bite of the basil tomatoes.

  “No, it’s not okay, but thank you for understanding.” He lifted the chop toward his mouth but held off on biting. “You may not think I get it, but I do. You think I’m broken. As a counselor you feel a need to fix me, so you keep trying.”

  He
r head popped up. “I don’t think you’re broken and in need of fixing.”

  “But you…” He shrugged.

  “I suggested you try to make things right with your parents, but do I think that if you don’t, you’ll lead a miserable life? Fail to be all that you can be? No. I don’t. I simply think you’ll feel better if you made the effort. That’s all.” She took a long sip of water. “And FYI, I don’t think people are broken in general. There’s no one right way to be—one perfect and actualized human being to strive for. God made each of us uniquely gifted and endowed. Just be that person.”

  “I’m not sure I agree. I see some pretty broken people in my job.”

  “Right. There are social deviants who I agree are broken. Or people with serious mental health issues. But overall, most of us are trying to get by and enjoy life.”

  “What about your clients?”

  “Broken? Not most of them.” She leaned closer. “They get up each morning. Go to work. Deal with day-to-day issues. They don’t act out in aggressive ways. Some self-medicate with alcohol or drugs, creating additional issues in their lives, but by and large they go on.” She frowned. “Ace was not one of those clients, but he also had other mental health issues going on.”

  Rick slowly chewed a bite of green beans and savored the flavor as he thought. “You said the other day that unless otherwise stated, your opinions are from Olivia the woman, not from the doc.”

  “That’s right.”

  “But isn’t it hard to separate? I mean, I look at people through my law enforcement point of view all the time. So how is it different for you?”

  “Because I make a conscious effort not to shrink people, as you would say. Sure, I form an instant impression of people, the way most everyone does, but I try my hardest with those I care about to be just a person.”

  “You care about me, then.” He winked and expected his teasing would bring out a smile. Instead she frowned.

  “I guess I do.” She sounded reluctant to admit it.

  “And it’s clear that you don’t much like the idea.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Ha! How’s that fair?”

  “I suppose it’s not, but that’s how I feel right now.” She took a bite of her chop and chewed.

  He couldn’t very well expect her to talk when he’d been so closemouthed, so he moved on. “Isn’t it hard not to want to help people all the time? You have a wonderful education, and you’re a very compassionate woman. I’d think when you see them going down the wrong path, it would be hard not to try to help.”

  “Yes.” She set down her fork. “And based on my relationship with my family, it’s clear I err by stepping in.”

  “But is that helping them?” he asked, hoping she didn’t take offense at his comment.

  “No, but it’s also not making them resent me for shrinking them.”

  Realization hit him. She was exactly as she’d seemed from day one. Caring. Kind. Committed to her work. Nothing like Dr. Fox or the shrink from his teen years.

  And she was everything he would want in a life partner. Where Traci had been dependent and needy, Olivia was strong and independent. She wouldn’t fall apart when he deployed, but could easily function on her own. That thought had him falling back in his chair. How could he keep his mind on protecting her when all he wanted to do was kiss her until they were both breathless?

  A quizzical expression claimed her face. “Is something wrong?”

  Boy howdy, was it. “We should finish up here so I can get to reviewing files.”

  “Can I help with them?”

  “The files?” No came to his mind right off the bat, but maybe her clinical education could be helpful. “I assume you’ve had human anatomy classes. You could look at the autopsy reports for Ace and Cesar and might see something I’m missing.”

  “Sure.” She sat back.

  “It’s not urgent,” he said. “You can finish eating.”

  “I’ve eaten enough, and if I hadn’t, the talk of autopsies stole my appetite.”

  “Sorry. Autopsies are a routine part of my job, so I don’t think anything of them. Besides, after the marines, I can eat under most any conditions.”

  “Then by all means.” She gestured at his plate. “Eat away, and I’ll sit here and enjoy looking at your yard.” She stared into the distance but soon shook her head.

  He swallowed his bite. “What?”

  “You. A garden. Cooking. Next thing you’ll tell me is you sew, too.”

  “If mending things in the marines and sewing up a wound count, then yeah, I’m a regular seamstress.”

  She laughed, and he was glad to see her good mood return. As he finished eating, she asked questions about the garden and his neighbor, sounding a bit jealous. Or maybe he wanted her to be jealous.

  “Cathy is going on eighty,” he said. “But she’s very spry, and she loves tending the garden.”

  Olivia nodded as if he’d offered sage advice, telling him she really did have misgivings about Cathy. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and pushed to his feet. “For dessert I have ice cream and raspberry sauce I froze this summer. We can have that later, long after we put the reports away.”

  “Do you want to work inside?”

  “Normally I’d say yes because I’d get distracted out here, but you’ll keep me on track, right?”

  “Yes, sir.” She saluted.

  He stacked her plate on his. “I’ll be right back with the files.”

  In the kitchen he stopped to look back at her sitting in his garden. At his home. Someone to talk to other than Cathy. This was how his life would be with a woman in it again. He could easily get used to it. Very easily. But even if he could get past not trusting Olivia, he didn’t want another person to lose their life because he’d given in to his feelings and spent the night enjoying her company when he had a killer to find.

  He slung his backpack over a shoulder and grabbed a pitcher of water. On the patio he refilled their glasses before rummaging through his bag for Griffin’s and Santos’s file folders. He extracted the autopsy report from each of them and handed them to Olivia.

  He then opened Kaci’s background reports on Floyd, Patton, and James to look for any similarities or red flags. He started with Floyd’s file, and he had to admit the guy was a strong possibility for their shooter. He had ties with Aryan Nations and other white supremacy groups, and his violent behavior at protests had resulted in numerous arrests. Those facts alone didn’t provide a motive for killing his fellow snipers, but they did show that he believed violence could solve problems.

  He flipped to Floyd’s picture, and his jaw about hit the floor. He turned the folder to face Olivia. “You recognize this guy?”

  Her eyes widened. “He’s the man in the park video.”

  “No wonder the Nevada agents haven’t found him.”

  “Since he didn’t appear to be the guy following Ace, maybe he just happened to be in Atlanta.”

  “But why? And why in the same park as Ace?”

  “What if he knew about the murders and came to warn Ace?”

  “Only way to find out is to ask him.” Rick grabbed his phone and typed a text for Max. Marcus Floyd is the man in the park video. I need an APB put out on him.

  Max quickly replied. You got it. We should wrap up here ASAP and head back to Atlanta in the event Floyd is picked up.

  Agreed, Rick replied. I can be finished tomorrow.

  “What do you make of these scars?” Olivia asked.

  Rick set down his phone. “What scars?”

  “Both of the MEs found a five- to six-millimeter scar.”

  “So about a quarter of an inch. It’s not unusual to find small scars during an autopsy.”

  “In the exact same location on both of them?”

  “Let me see.”

  She handed over the reports and pointed at the sentences noting the scar on the interior of each man’s left wrist.

  “Interesting, but
I don’t know what to make of it.” He stared at the report. “I’ll have the ME check for a scar on the senator, too.”

  His phone rang, displaying Kaci’s picture.

  “I have to take this.” He slipped inside and quickly answered.

  “I finally got through the hard drive on the senator’s laptop,” she said. “I found something interesting.”

  Her dire tone raised his concern. “What did you find?”

  “Ransomware.”

  “Ransomware? Someone locked his computer?”

  “No.”

  “Isn’t that the point of ransomware? A hacker invades your computer and locks it so you can’t get back in until you pay the ransom demand, and they give you access again?”

  “You’re basically right. But hackers can personalize their demands, choosing to lock any item they think will get them the best price. Could be a whole computer. A file. Even something as small as a picture or a single document.”

  “What are they holding for ransom on the senator’s machine?”

  “Nothing, now, but at one time they’d locked a hidden drive. I found remnants of their hack in the root directory. He paid fifty thousand dollars to free that drive.”

  “What’s on it?” he asked, hoping for that strong lead they so desperately needed.

  “That I don’t know yet. I have to crack the password.”

  Rick blew out his frustration. “Then how does this help us with the murder investigation?”

  “I have the date and time the hack occurred and tracked it back to a coffee shop in Atlanta. If they have surveillance cameras, we may be able to ID the hacker.”

  “And you think the hack is related to Neal’s death?”

  “I don’t know without seeing the drive’s contents, but we have the Atlanta connection. Surely not a coincidence. And paying fifty grand to get access to the file again says it has to be important and might be a compelling reason to commit murder.”

  Chapter 24

  Monday, September 18

  7:58 a.m.

  On the fifth floor of the Consolidated Forensic Lab, Rick’s phone buzzed just as he reached the door to the District’s morgue. He glanced at the text from Max. James and Patton in custody soon. APB on Floyd a bust so far.