“Okay, it’s obvious this guy is a friend of both of yours. What do you know about him beyond what we’ve pulled up in the background check?”
Drake tipped his head back and looked at Alex as she continued to pace behind him. “Not much you don’t already know. He’s a former drug addict who finally accepted his parents’ offer to help after he nearly died from an overdose. He did a stint in rehab, came out clean, and mooched off his parents a couple more years while he attended the community college on the mainland in Billings to get a business degree. By the time he finished, the Winters triad had developed the island. To say there’s a strict no-drugs-on-the-island policy here would be an understatement, so I’m sure it seemed like the perfect place for him to settle down away from the temptation of returning to his old life.”
“Or the perfect place to hide out.” Alex sounded like she was talking to herself more than them. When she stopped pacing to stare at the dry-erase board, shook her head, and muttered a “No,” Rhett knew she wasn’t talking to them.
“No what, Alex?”
She turned and looked at him, lines of frustration etching themselves around her eyes and mouth. “You might be right about him not knowing Patty Smart. The more I study all of this, the more I’m thinking the murders of Lynette Cross and Kelli Darcy aren’t connected to the first three murders even though we know Chad Divine lived in Pensacola at the time of Patty Smart’s murder. The time he spent in rehab overlaps with the murder of Abigale Brigdon and coincides with Bella McDonald’s enough that he wouldn’t have been able to commit those murders and end up in the rehab in Pensacola when he did.”
“Which means we have at least two killers out there,” Drake said.
Alex glanced at Drake and started pacing again. “Unless Chad Divine figured out a way to commit two murders in two different states hundreds of miles from the rehab center.”
“Really, Alex?” The disbelieving tone Rhett put in his voice earned him an eye roll and a hint of a smile.
“I wasn’t serious, Rhett.” She held up a finger. “But I am about Chad Divine being involved in Lynette Cross’s and Kelli Darcy’s murders. He’s admitted to knowing both of the recent victims. He’s confessed to having a thing for women with red or strawberry-blonde hair. Although, by all accounts, he is a changed and clean man now, he would know how to get his hands on the drug found in the victims’ systems.”
“Okay.” Rhett straightened, turned, and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned a hip against the table. “You’ve given me three pieces of circumstantial evidence against Chad. Now give me a motive.”
Alex shook her head. “I can’t yet. I don’t have one.”
“Neither does he.” Alex gifted him with another eye roll that drew a half chuckle from his throat before he could stop it. “Look, Alex. I know you think I’m being hard to deal with right now. Hell, maybe you even think I’m too close to Chad to view him as a suspect. The thing is, there’s not a reason one I can think of for him wanting either of those women dead. He offered to help Lynette Cross get off drugs and he thought he had something really special going with Kelli Darcy. Why would he kill them?”
“A crime of passion,” Drake suggested. “We’re only getting Chad’s side of the story. Maybe Kelli didn’t see what they had going as something really special. Maybe she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.”
“So he killed her?” Rhett scoffed. “Come on, Drake. Chad’s not the kind of man to take rejection to that kind of drastic measure.”
“What’s his relationship with Michaela?” Alex took the conversation down a different path. “She called him her partner and I assumed she meant in the business, but the way he comforted her today seemed friendlier than business partners.”
“The urban term is friends with benefits,” Drake told her. “Michaela is from Miami, too. If I’m not mistaken, that’s how they met. They ran with the same crowd. He got out. She stayed.”
“He ended up in Pensacola.” Rhett took over the conversation ball. “She eventually ended up there, too. Then, once again, he got out and she stayed. She didn’t do her stint in rehab until after he’d already gotten out.”
“So they’re friends, close friends, who have sex, but don’t consider themselves in a true relationship?” Alex was obviously trying to tidy the puzzle pieces in her head.
Rhett considered her question for a long moment before he answered. “If you want my take on it, she’s in love with Chad, but she’s too afraid of ruining what they have to say so. Hell, they might both be in love with one another, but too afraid to admit it.”
Alex stopped pacing again to shoot him a look complete with a lifted brow. “And if another woman were to get in her way, say, to attempt to take away Chad’s affections?”
Rhett immediately saw where she was going with the question. Apparently, so did Drake, because the other man sat up straighter in his chair and scratched his chin.
“Jealousy is often the driving force behind murders.”
“From what I’ve gathered, she’s been following in Chad’s shadow since they were teens.” Alex resumed her pacing once more as she ticked off points on her fingers. “She would have as much knowledge about how to get her hands on the drug as he would. She frequently leaves the island via the excursion boat rather than taking Chad’s boat.”
“And, because Chad no doubt tells her everything, she would’ve known how to find both of the women when they returned to the mainland,” Drake added.
Alex frowned. “I’m not so sure Chad tells her everything, though. She seemed genuinely shocked when he started telling me everything he’d left out in his conversation with the two of you, like it was the first time she’d heard anything about him staying in touch with Lynette Cross after she left the island.”
“If she didn’t know, that takes away her motive to kill Lynette,” Rhett said. “That is if jealousy was the motive in the first place.”
“I can usually spot an actress from a mile away.” Alex shook her head. “I didn’t get the feeling I was being played or lied to by Michaela Gleason.”
“But you did with Chad Divine?” Drake asked.
Alex’s frown deepened and Rhett knew what she was refusing to admit. She hadn’t gotten that vibe from either of them. She was simply following the closest thing to a direct lead they’d come across so far.
“I’m going to get on the phone with the agents in Silver Springs,” she said in lieu of answering Drake. “I’ll text Cameron Stone a photo of Michaela and ask him to show it around, especially at Castaways.” She rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. “So far, everything about the two of them is checking out legit, and yet I can’t shake this feeling that one or both of them is behind these murders in some way.”
“Tell you what.” Rhett closed the distance between himself and Alex and dragged the tip of his finger down the side of his face. “You make that phone call and text that picture. Drake will gather up the files while I check in with Kimberly at the Welcome Center and see if Michaela left the island during the timeframe of Lynette Cross’s murder and discovery. Then we’ll all go to our cottage and I’ll whip us up some dinner while we continue to hash this out.”
* * * *
Alex had forgotten how positively impossible Rhett and Drake could be sometimes. Once again, she’d attempted to decline Rhett’s invitation to spend time with him after leaving the Sheriff’s Department and, once again, she hadn’t gotten anywhere. Last night it had been drinks at Ménage à Drink. Tonight, it was dinner at their house and, this time, Drake hadn’t bailed. She figured that probably had as much to do with his desire to continue talking about the case as it did the fact that Rhett had shot him a warning look stern enough to make the green giant obey when he’d issued the invitation that had obviously included Drake.
She walked over the threshold into Drake’s and Rhett’s cottage on legs that wanted to shake. Being alone with them in the conference room at the department hadn’t fazed her as
much as the thought of being alone with them in their home. The cottage was a far more intimate setting, even if it did exude pure male testosterone from every square inch.
Their cottage was set up much like the one Kenneth Winters had assigned her, she noted as she moved further inside and surveyed her surroundings. While her living room was furnished with a single sofa, double end tables, a coffee table, and a television center, theirs had two recliners in place of the sofa and a television center that could swallow hers in a gulp. They’d kept the neutral color scheme and the table that sufficed as a dining room suite. The hallway dividing the connecting wall between the living room area and the kitchen wasn’t there in her cottage. Then again, she only had one bedroom instead of two.
Rhett wordlessly headed for the kitchen, while Drake went to the table. She followed Drake, placed the files on the top, and pulled out a seat.
“French toast or chicken casserole?” Rhett called from the kitchen.
Alex met Drake’s gaze and the amusement dancing in his eyes made the smile already forming on her lips widen. “I take it his specialties haven’t changed?”
Drake snorted. “Not a bit.”
“Casserole,” she answered Rhett as she sat. “I had French toast at Divine Playthings this morning.”
Rhett leaned over the island bar, his expression one of overdramatic shock. “You had Siebel’s French toast, didn’t you? She’s the only one on the island that can make it better than me.”
Alex winced. “I don’t want to have to agree with you, so I’ll plead the fifth.”
He placed a hand over his heart and threw back his head on a moan. “Oh, that hits me where it hurts.” He righted his head and winked at her. “Chicken casserole it is.”
Alex shook her head as he turned his back on her and started pulling ingredients from the refrigerator. She reached for the files, pulling them closer as she looked at Drake. “I assume you want to spread everything out here?”
Drake sat in the chair across from her and propped his elbows on the table. “How about we give the case a rest for a while and you can tell us what you’ve been up to the last five years?”
Surprise had her gaping at him. “You want to talk about something other than the case with me?”
He held her gaze for a long moment, but his eyes were completely unreadable. Finally, he shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “The way I figure it, if today’s discoveries turn out to be right and Chad or Michaela or both end up being our killer, we’ll have this case wrapped up in a day or two max and you’ll be off the island. Unless we end up with another possible serial killer here in the future, we’re not likely to see you again, so we might as well find out how your life is going now while we have the chance.”
I didn’t think you cared.
She bit her tongue on the words as she stared at him, deciding he was at least making an effort to be social rather than continuing to give her the ice treatment he’d been subjecting her to since the moment she’d walked into the Sheriff’s Department.
Except when he kissed you this morning.
No, there hadn’t been anything about that kiss that had been cold or hostile. It had been hot, hungry, stupid, and the best damn thing that had happened to her in five years save for the feel of Rhett’s mouth on her last night.
“There isn’t really too much to tell.” She realized as she said the words they were truer than she wanted them to be. “Everything I do revolves around my job.”
Was that pathetic or what? She’d never thought so before, but being with them again had her wondering. What was that saying from The Shining? All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Had she really allowed herself to become dull, too?
“There’s nothing wrong with that as long as it makes you happy.” Rhett poked his head around an open cabinet door and flashed her a smile. “And I know it does. You were just telling me last night how happy you are to know you’ve followed your dreams and accomplished all the goals you’ve set for yourself.”
“I love being an FBI agent.” She wondered if the droid sound in her tone was her imagination or if they heard it, too, as if she’d been programed to give that response. “It’s even more challenging and rewarding than I thought it would be.”
Rhett closed the cabinet door and looked at her for a long moment before turning to the stove. Shit. She could’ve at least given Drake a different answer than she’d given Rhett last night to keep from sounding like a brochure straight out of the FBI recruiting office.
“How so?”
Alexandria studied him. She couldn’t figure him out. One minute, the last thing he wanted to talk about was anything remotely personal and the next, he was inquiring about the last five years of her life like they were old friends being reunited.
Treading carefully because she didn’t have a clue where he was going with this, she told him about a few of the cases she’d worked for the bureau, starting with an interstate killer she’d helped to track in her first year as a special agent and ending with her role in the takedown of a psychopath who had brutally raped and murdered a nine year old girl.
“Catching that bastard is currently at the top of my most rewarding chart.” The feeling of knowing she’d played a part in tracking down and capturing a monster who would do such a thing to a child was indescribable, even if she hadn’t been the agent who had made the final arrest.
“As it should be.” Rhett came out of the kitchen carrying two glasses of red wine. He passed one off to Drake on his way to bring the other to Alex. “The more creeps like that we get off the streets, the safer children everywhere will be. On another note, the casserole will be ready in a few minutes.”
Alex smiled her thanks for the wine and sipped as he returned to the kitchen. She let her gaze linger on his back, let it glide over the play of muscles in his shoulders when he reached for the glass of wine he’d poured for himself, and let it drop to his tight ass before the view got blocked by the island counter. She remembered Rhett’s casserole as being one of food’s greatest pleasures, but the man himself tasted far more delicious than any combination of chicken, potatoes, vegetables, and cheese she’d ever tried.
She pulled her gaze from Rhett to find Drake watching her, knowledge, warning, and curiosity mixing a potent concoction in his eyes. “What about the two of you?” She asked the first question that came to mind, needing to take the attention off herself for a while. “I haven’t been here for more than forty-eight hours, but I can already see the island Sheriff’s Department is a far cry from New Orleans PD. Surely there can’t be that much trouble in an island paradise like this.”
Drake lifted his wine glass to his lips for a sip. “Not every day is paradise.”
Alex’s attention dropped to his mouth and her lips tingled in memory of the kiss he’d laid on her this morning. Though Rhett had exhibited an aggressiveness that defied his normal nature last night, he’d tempered it quickly, gentling his kisses and touches. Drake hadn’t done more than kiss her this morning, but that kiss had damn near blown her head off. The moment his lips had touched hers, she’d felt a dark part of her awaken that had gone dormant the day she’d walked out of his and Rhett’s lives. She’d wanted more and he’d admitted he did, too, but the more that he wanted beyond the sexual hunger was what she couldn’t give him.
“We get our fair share of trouble on the island.” Rhett’s words broke into her thoughts. “Usually some asshat with a bone to pick or a notion they can change the way people here live and think. Being built on the premise that everyone should be allowed to live and love whoever and however many they choose opens the island to all sorts of deranged individuals.”
“I guess it would.” Alex pulled her attention back to Drake’s eyes. She wanted to know what had made him move to the island, but wasn’t sure how to ask. Going point blank with him would likely get her a shrug and a nondescript answer. Maybe if she worked up to it, he’d give her the truth. “How is your sister? Has Christy been to the island y
et?”
“She’s been too busy with college. She’s in her final year of med school. She reminds me a lot of you sometimes, not seeing anything that falls outside of the box where she’s packed her career goals.”
Alex took the stab and refused to let him see how badly it hurt. “And your mother?”
Hard emotions, deep grief, and a river of pain washed through his eyes. “She died the year after you left.”
Alex gasped. She saw Rhett turn to look at her out of the corner of her eye, his expression one of mixed apology and sorrow. Damn him. He’d refused to tell her anything about Drake last night, but he could’ve given her some warning about this.
“I’m so sorry, Drake.” She hated the helpless feeling that came over her, the one that knew there wasn’t really anything she could say or do to offer him comfort. Sure, it had been four years since his mom had passed, but the pain of losing someone so close never went away.
She started to ask how she’d died, but feared the answer. Drake had been twenty-seven five years ago, but he’d refused to move out of his parents’ house. His father had been a horribly abusive man not only to Drake’s mother, but him and his sister as well. Though he’d tried to convince his mother to leave, she’d refused, insisting her place was with her husband no matter what kind of man he’d turned out to be. Instead, Drake had stayed to protect the women, believing his father would harm them worse if he wasn’t around. Dear God, had he been right?
Drake’s gaze didn’t waver from hers and he must have seen the question in her eyes. “He killed her. Christy was in college by then. I was out late one night wrapping up a case. When I got home, I found her beat to death on the kitchen floor. He was nowhere to be found.”
Tears burned Alex’s eyes and she attempted to blink them away. “Was he caught?” She didn’t understand the dart of regret that shot through Drake’s eyes until he answered her.
“Two days later. He didn’t get far. I wasn’t the one who found him, though.”
Safe and Deputized with Ecstasy [The Heroes of Silver Island 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12