by Debra Webb
Alex handed the note back to Wells. She squatted next to the tub again and took another look at the victim. “What’s this?” She pointed to the girl’s fingernails. “It doesn’t look like flesh.”
Mitch knelt next to her and looked closely. Something white was caked under the nails of the victim’s left hand.
Alex twisted around, studying the edge of the tub, the floor, and then the lavatory. She gestured to what appeared to be a small blood smear on the edge of the porcelain basin. She pushed to her feet. Mitch contemplated the smear a little longer, then stood.
Several long seconds passed while Alex studied the basin and the items there, a bar of soap and a toothbrush. She was completely focused, and extremely careful not to touch anything.
“Look at the bar of soap,” she said finally.
Mitch leaned closer to inspect the white bar. Gouge marks marred its surface. Four of them to be exact. Fingernail gouges. “Wells, you might want to bag this bar of soap.”
Wells pressed between them, surveying the object in question. “The knife was in the tub. If that’s—” he nodded to the soap “—what’s under her nails, she must have done it before she did the slicing and dicing.”
Mitch winced at Wells’s word choice.
Alex shook her head. “Then why the blood here?” She pointed to the tiny smear on the edge of the basin.
Wells squatted down and looked closer. “Could be blood. The lab’ll tell us for sure.” He frowned as he stood, pulled a glove from his pocket and tugged it on. Carefully, he picked up the soap and turned it over. A tinge of red mingled with the wet residue on its underside. Wells swore. “Guess we missed that.”
“Check the floor between here and there,” Alex told him, indicating the tub. “I’ll bet you find traces of blood there, too. And in the basin’s S-trap.”
Wells shrugged. “I don’t know why she would have gotten out of the tub to wash her hands after she’d done the job.”
“Maybe she didn’t,” Alex offered. “Maybe someone did it for her.”
“Let’s get this bagged,” Wells said then, quickly escaping Alex’s scrutiny.
“Look,” Mitch said quietly, drawing Alex’s attention. “It takes someone on the edge to want to take their own life.” He could see the renewed effect this scene was having on Alex and he didn’t like it. She was twisting the situation around, making it what she wanted it to be—a murder. “Are you sure Jasna was stable enough to give you the real facts? Maybe her sister left of her own free will after all. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe she and Jasna had a falling out. Despite these little anomalies, you have to know how this looks.”
Alex looked straight at him, those amber eyes glittering with determination. “I don’t believe she took her own life.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would she beg for help, then commit suicide when that help was at hand?”
“Maybe something happened this week that changed everything. Something you don’t remember. You can’t be sure that she didn’t lose all hope. The fact is that you don’t know when you last spoke with her or what mental state she was in at the time.”
“You’re right about that,” Alex agreed, to his complete surprise. “But, I can’t shake the notion that I’m right about this.”
“I’ve never put much stock in women’s intuition,” Mitch said wryly.
She glared at him. “I’m talking about instinct, Hayden.” She glanced at the woman who’d been her client, then back at Mitch. “You know what I’m talking about. You can feel it, too. That little voice that keeps telling you that something about all this doesn’t fit. Just listen, you’ll hear it.”
ALEX REMAINED QUIET on the ride back to Shady Grove. Mitch knew he’d pushed her buttons with the women’s intuition remark. Hell, he’d done it intentionally. Though he couldn’t fully explain why he’d purposely riled her. He’d never been a masochist, why start now?
Because her anger was his only protection against those other crazy feelings, he realized with sudden clarity. He clenched his jaw and forced the unbidden thought away. The tension was getting to him.
“How soon will the preliminary autopsy be available?”
The sound of her husky voice broke the silence, yanking Mitch from his musings. “I asked Wells to let us know as soon as he knows. Tomorrow maybe. I can’t say for sure.”
“I want you to be straight with me on this investigation, Hayden. Don’t keep me in the dark.”
Something in her voice, desperation, maybe, made him want to reach out to her. Mitch squashed that yearning. “You keep Ashton off my back and I’ll keep you informed.”
“I’m sending him back to Chicago,” she said quietly.
Surprised for the second time today, Mitch turned to her as he slowed for a red light. “I don’t think he’s going to like that.”
She didn’t look at Mitch. “He’s a distraction. I don’t need him here.”
So, Mitch was right. There was something going on between her and Ashton. Knowing he’d been right failed to give Mitch any pleasure. “We should stop by the hospital and let them change that bandage.”
“I want to talk to Zach first.”
This was one goodbye Mitch couldn’t wait to witness.
“I DON’T THINK this is a good idea,” Zach repeated for the third time. He glanced at Mitch Hayden through the glass wall dividing the sheriff’s office from the reception area. The blinds were open and Hayden was sitting on the edge of his receptionist’s desk doing little to conceal the fact that he was watching their tense exchange.
Alex exhaled an impatient breath. She wasn’t sure who she was more disgusted with—Zach or Hayden. “Look,” she said, drawing her old friend’s attention back to her. “I know you’re worried about me, but I can take care of myself.”
Blue eyes, the ones she’d once gotten lost in so easily, stared back at her now. “How can you expect me to just leave you here and pretend that everything’s fine? Whoever took that shot at you will likely try again. You still don’t have your memory back. How can I be sure Hayden will keep you safe?” Zach stepped closer, trying to see more than she wanted him to. He read her too easily.
He shook his head at what he no doubt saw. “I don’t trust him, Al. I don’t understand why you do.”
She took his hand in hers. He squeezed her fingers, the gesture totally platonic. “No backwoods sheriff is going to get the best of me. I can hold my own with him. The one thing I feel confident about is that he’ll do whatever he has to in order to keep me safe. I’m all he’s got between two dead deputies and their killer.” Alex resisted the urge to look at Hayden then. She could feel him watching her. The bloom of warmth that accompanied his close observation only flustered her all the more.
And that was the last thing she needed right now.
Zach ran a hand through his short, dark hair. “Victoria isn’t going to like this. Jasna’s death didn’t help. She sent me down here to help you clear up this mess. How am I supposed to go back and tell her that you’re still under suspicion for murder? That you can’t remember the last six days and that some good-old-boy sheriff has the hots for you?”
Alex felt the color rise in her cheeks. “Zach, get real. I’m a suspect and or witness. That’s all.”
Zach’s response was uncharacteristically crude.
“Well, that was constructive,” she retorted impatiently.
“I’m not feeling particularly constructive at the moment.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and studied her for a long time. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes,” she said without reservation. “I need Hayden cooperative. How am I going to accomplish that with the two of you going head-to-head at every turn? I’m up to this, Zach. Your presence will only hamper the investigation.” She sighed, flaring her hands in exasperation. “Victoria only sent you because of me. You know she needs you in Chicago.”
He stared at the floor for a time before he responded. “If I go back and anything h
appens to you—”
“Nothing is going to happen.” Alex smiled. “I’m in protective custody. Hayden isn’t going to let me out of his sight.”
“That’s the part that worries me,” Zach said grimly.
“I swear, Ashton, you sound like a jealous husband,” she teased.
He touched her cheek as tenderly as he would have a child’s. “You know how much you mean to me, Al. You’re like the sister I never had.”
That was true. They had mistaken that close bond for a time, but both of them had quickly realized that they weren’t meant to be anything more than friends. “I have to do this.” She chewed her lip for a second while she gathered her thoughts. “I’m having little flashes of recall already. I think if I concentrate on retracing my steps it’ll all come back to me.” She shrugged. “This is a small town, finding witnesses to my activities shouldn’t be that difficult.” There was no way to know what had become of her casebook. It wasn’t among the personal belongings of which Mitch had allowed her to retake possession.
“I don’t want you going it alone,” Zach insisted. “I don’t like it.”
Alex tugged on his silk tie. “I’ll be okay. But I need Delaney to do me a favor.”
“Name it.”
“He should be back in the city by now. When he’s had time to complete his report on the Henshaw case, ask him to look into Phillip Malloy’s background for me. I want to go all the way back to before the man was even a gleam in his daddy’s eye. I want to know everything.” And Ethan Delaney was just the investigator to do it. No one at the agency was more persistent.
At Zach’s questioning look, she explained, “I’ve probably already done this myself, but I can’t remember and who knows where my casebook is. If I found anything, it’s stuck somewhere in all that scrambled gray matter. And I doubt I’ll get the chance to dig around in Malloy’s background with Hayden dogging my every step.”
“Good point. Don’t worry, if Delaney isn’t available, I’ll take care of it myself.”
“Thanks, Zach.” Alex smiled, relieved that he’d acquiesced to her wishes. “I knew I could count on you to understand.”
He still looked uncertain. “If you need anything…”
“I’ll call.” Alex hugged him as if she might never see him again. She envied the woman who eventually snagged him. Zach Ashton was the best.
HIS TEETH HURT from clenching them so tightly, Mitch realized, frustrated to the point of wanting to throw something. He forced himself to relax when Alex finally released her enthusiastic hold on Ashton. Mitch swore under his breath. He didn’t care that the two of them had a thing going. His dislike for Ashton had absolutely nothing to do with Alex. Ashton was a big-city attorney who thought he could come down here and tell Mitch how to run his investigation. That was the source of the animosity. Nothing more.
The last couple of days had taken their toll on Mitch. That’s all. He wasn’t himself.
Mitch wanted Ashton on the road so he could get on with the investigation without unwanted interference. He had no hidden motivation or agenda. Alex was a suspect.
Ashton stepped back from the embrace he’d shared with Alex and glanced at his watch. When he looked up, his gaze shifted in Mitch’s direction for a nanosecond. Their gazes locked for that infinitesimal space in time, and something distinctly adversarial passed between them. Without missing a beat, Ashton’s right hand went up and wrapped around Alex’s neck. He pulled her to him and kissed her firmly on the mouth.
A kind of quake rocked through Mitch. Fury followed in its wake. All that kept him anchored in place was his white-knuckle grasp on the edge of the desk on which he was sitting. The meshing of lips only lasted a moment. But that was a second too long. Ashton’s gaze landed squarely on Mitch’s then, a clear warning.
Mitch stood. An instinctive meeting of the challenge that had been silently issued. The door opened then and the two made their way out to where he waited.
“There’s a one-thirty commercial flight back to Chicago, so I don’t see any point in having Victoria send the jet back down for me,” Ashton said, his expression entirely too smug for Mitch’s liking. “I guess I’ll be on it since Alex doesn’t need me here.”
“Leaving already?” Mitch quipped. “That’s a shame.”
Zach stepped in closer to him and spoke for Mitch’s ears only. “You let anything happen to her, Hayden, and I’ll be back. For you,” he added with a lethal look that left nothing to the imagination as to what he meant.
Mitch met that deadly gaze without blinking. “Don’t worry, Ashton, I’ll take good care of her. She’s my only link to two murders. I’m not about to let anything happen to her.” Not to mention Nashville P.D. would likely need to question her further in the Bukovak suicide.
“I want her back in Chicago as soon as this is over.”
“You have my word on it,” Mitch told him flatly. “I’ll clear her of any charges and put her on a plane headed north, or I’ll lock her up and throw away the key. Either way, I’ll have an answer.” He paused for emphasis. “Soon.”
Mitch ignored the distress signals emanating from Alex. He couldn’t say whether she was anxious over he and Ashton’s war of wills or Mitch’s pronouncement that he intended to solve this case at any cost. Whatever concerned her, he was through being ruled by emotions he didn’t understand. He had a double homicide to solve. Two men he respected and called friends were dead. And one way or another this little city gal was going to lead him to their killer.
MITCH SCANNED the interview reports and preliminary forensic findings from the two shootings scattered across his kitchen table. It was after midnight and he was exhausted. He rubbed at his bleary eyes. He had nothing. Ballistics had confirmed that the rifle Roy had found in Alex’s hotel room was indeed the one used to kill Saylor. But there were no prints. Not one. The serial number had been filed off the rifle.
The shooter was a professional. But why? It didn’t make sense. Nothing about Miller or his lifestyle could possibly have garnered the interest of anyone capable of hiring an assassin. The same could be said for Saylor, though Mitch hadn’t known him his entire life as he had Miller.
Alex had to be the key. Maybe the shootings had nothing to do with the Bukovak case Alex came to Shady Grove to investigate. Mitch stilled, allowing the thought to solidify. Maybe someone from a previous Colby Agency case was out for revenge. That would explain the apparent setup attempt. The rifle sure as hell hadn’t been in her room the first time they looked.
Then again, Alex could be in on it.
But why? There was no motivation.
Disgusted, Mitch pushed up from the table. He stalked over to the sink and leaned against the counter to stare out into the dark night. None of this made any sense. It had to be someone after Alex. Something totally unconnected to this county and the men who had died for no real reason. The instinct that had never failed him before nagged at him now. That scenario didn’t quite fit either. Why would anyone seeking revenge against Alex choose here and now to make his move? Taking out a P.I. was one thing, but murdering two deputies was another. A capital offense to be exact. And then there was the Bukovak girl’s suicide. It just didn’t make sense.
Mitch had tried to convince himself that at least Miller’s death was no mystery. After all, Alex’s prints were on the murder weapon and the powder residue on her skin indicated that she had definitely been holding the weapon when it was fired. But that scenario wasn’t cut and dried either. The residue pattern was not conclusive. In fact, it was barely there. The forensics report stated unconditionally that the residue on her skin was not consistent with those expected under typical circumstances with the particular weapon used. Mitch had studied that report forward and backward. The bottom line, in his opinion, was that someone might have been holding her hand when the weapon fired.
There had to be a third party involved in Miller’s death. The same person who fired the rifle and killed Saylor. And, whoever it was, he or she was no fr
iend of Alex Preston’s. Now all Mitch had to figure out was whether the case was related to the Bukovak girl, which he considered unlikely, or the Colby Agency.
That was one mystery he wouldn’t be able to solve tonight. He was burned out. Mitch crossed the room and switched off the light. Though he’d never felt compelled to lock his doors in the past, he did so tonight. It irked him that anything could intrude on the small-town life he cherished so. For the most part, people didn’t have to worry about locking their doors around here. But things were different now. Alex Preston had brought big-city problems with her when she showed up in his county.
He paused at the door of his spare room and looked in on her. She was sleeping soundly. Long dark hair spilled across her pillow. The bulky bandage on her forehead had been replaced by a much smaller one. He’d taken her by the hospital to have it checked after they’d dropped Ashton off at the airport. There was the one good thing about this whole damned day, Mitch mused. Ashton was out of his way.
The memory of Ashton kissing Alex loomed large in Mitch’s mind, rekindling a fury he shouldn’t feel. This was entirely too screwed up. There was absolutely no reason for him to feel possessive of Alex on a personal level. A few hours of chitchat over dinner shouldn’t have made this kind of impact.
Sure she was attractive—more than attractive—but he’d had his share of attractive women. She was smart, but so were the other women he dated. But there was something about this one. He closed his eyes and silently cursed himself. Something that touched a place way down deep inside him, made him want to reach out to her.
And, like the two murders currently haunting him, he couldn’t explain it.
It simply was.
Shaking his head, Mitch turned away from the woman who made him so restless. He was already taking a huge risk bringing her here. If someone really was trying to kill her, they would come here, to his home, after her. Mitch hadn’t missed the odd looks he’d gotten when it became clear to his staff that he was bringing Alex home with him. He didn’t need suspicions being cast among his men. But he also wasn’t about to leave Alex in a cell.