The man started laughing. “WOW, someone’s feeling a little rabid over the sexy woman. Are you going to shoot every man who breathes near her?”
He stared at him, willing to start with the man in front of him. “Don’t push it, Tommy,” he warned.
“You better get your ass moving because a sexy, smart, eligible woman in Myrtle Springs isn’t going to be available for long. In fact, I’m shocked she isn’t beating off men with baseball bats at her front door.”
Yeah, didn't he know it?
Shit!
This only pissed him off more.
Oddly, the reason he wasn’t with her was now lying dead in a black coroner’s bag.
Yeah, he saw the irony and didn't miss how once again, fate was screwing with him.
“Good luck, Quinn. If she shoots you down, I’m moving in next.”
Quinn gave him the dirtiest look he could, and then moved toward Callie and his deputy sitting on the ground. She was holding his hand as he sipped from another bottle of water.
The simple contact, after what the coroner had said, made him want to lose his damn mind.
“I have to head out to the judge’s house and tell him about Sissy,” he said, looking none too pleased at the idea of the job ahead.
“I’ll go with you, Sheriff. Junior will be fine now that the shock has passed,” she said, standing and releasing the man’s hand.
“Are you sure that I’m okay?” the man asked, hoping he could charm her into spending a little more time with him.
Quinton Gaines fought to stay calm. Already, the single male vultures were circling the sweet little bunny below. Yeah, he had to put a stop to this.
“You don’t have to go with me,” said Quinn, less than whole-heartedly, as they walked to the truck. Thank God, she was following him.
Maybe fate wasn’t that big of a bitch after all.
“No, I don’t have to, but I can’t imagine you care to do this at all, and maybe I can help the judge and his wife.”
This time, he walked her to the passenger door and opened it for her. He offered his hand and noticed that she hesitated to take it. Finally, some internal battle was won, and she reached for him.
Yeah, she was going to be a tough nut to crack.
Quinn helped her up into the truck, quickly closing the door. With a grim look, he headed around to join her. The entire ride was made in silence, and he was pleased that she let him calm himself beforehand. This was going to get ugly. Finally, curiosity got the best of him. “Can I ask you a question, Doctor?”
“Sure, Sheriff,” she said, looking over at him. “Ask away.”
“How do you know so much about dead bodies, ma’am?”
Callie’s heart thumped in her chest at his inquiry. “Well, Sheriff, I started out going to med school. Somewhere in the middle of getting my degree, the stress of knowing an innocent person’s life could hang in the balance just turned me right off. So, I opted for psychology.”
“I see,” he said. “You know your way around a crime scene really well.”
“I’ve worked a few.”
He glanced over quickly, noticing that she was gazing out the window. “You have?” Quinn continued digging to get to the truth.
It was blatantly obvious that the man wasn’t going to give up. Instead, she opted to give him the truth. After all, she had nothing to hide and was at peace with her decision. Yeah, there were days that she missed it, but right now, she had a new path in life.
“I was on staff with the FBI out of their Raleigh field office. My boss, Gabe Rothschild, would send me in to assist, profile, or anything else that needed to be done.”
Well, she couldn’t have shocked him more if she had handed him a toaster and pushed him into a bathtub full of water.
“Really?” Amazement filled his voice. This beautiful creature played in the minds of madmen? “You were a Fed?”
“Yes, I was,” she answered. There was a tiny bit of sorrow at the use of the word ‘was’, so she tried to change the focus. “So, now you know one of my secrets, how about telling me one of yours?” she asked, teasingly. Part of her didn't believe that he would share anything. Yes, Callie had heard the rumors around town about him, but she rarely believed second hand chatter.
Generally, it was total bullshit.
He stilled, gripping the wheel tighter. “What makes you think that I have secrets?” he asked, looking over at her.
“If people didn’t have secrets, Sheriff, I would be out of a job.”
He laughed as she tried to calm him down. Oddly, it worked and he found that endearing. “Okay, I do have a secret.”
“Well?” she asked, giving him her brightest smile.
“I have a wicked crush on you, and I don’t think it’s ever going to go away,” he said, grinning mischievously at her when he saw that it wiped the smile off her face. He enjoyed the fact that she had nothing to say to that. Plus, he just told her that he was intending to pursue her no matter what. “See, Doctor? Not every secret should be said out loud. Look how freaked out you are.”
“I guess not,” she muttered, her stomach fluttering in response.
Was it getting hot in his truck?
Neither spoke for the remainder of the ride to the judge’s house. When they finally pulled up, there were cars milling around and obviously, the news moved faster than they had. Somehow, that wasn’t surprising.
“Well, shit!” stated Quinn, frustrated by the small-town gossip mill.
“Well said, Sheriff,” she stated, as they started toward the house. When they arrived at the large wrap around porch, they could hear crying and sobbing from inside. It was obvious that Mrs. Parker was aware that her daughter was dead and not coming home.
“I hate this part,” said Quinn. Glancing down, he noticed that Callie had taken his hand in hers and was offering moral support. He had to admit that it gave him the reassurance he needed for what was coming. After knocking on the door, they waited as Chrissy, one of their children, appeared. She looked horrible, as tears poured down her face.
“Sheriff, come in.” The girl held open the door, while curiously watching Callie. While they expected to see the law, they didn't expect to see the town shrink. “Hello, Doctor.”
“Hello, Chrissy,” she replied. It occurred to her to release Quinn’s hand, but he wasn’t having it.
Apparently, it was going to be on his time. When he detected her attempt to break free, he stared directly into her silvery blue eyes as his thumb ran across her pulse. The message passed between them, and her breath hitched in her chest.
Yeah, he was making a point.
“Momma and daddy are in there,” said Chrissy, as she stared down at their twined fingers. Her eyebrow lifted in silent inquiry, as she tried to figure out if they were indeed a couple.
Callie knew that small town gossip could be wicked, and this was about to kick the rumor mill into full speed. Before the day was out, the town would be talking about her supposed illicit affair with the sheriff.
It was funny, since there were worse things they could focus on. Gossip was the least of her concerns.
Quinn slowly released her fingers from his. “I’ll be back, Doctor,” he whispered, as he dropped his mouth close to her ear.
When she only nodded, he took that as his sign and headed in to see the people who had lost their loved one.
Now, it was time to do his job.
Quinn knelt as he stared into the faces of the devastated family. Judge Parker was trying to soothe his loved ones, as his wife and daughter openly wept. Missy, their middle daughter, was holding her small child as she tried to pull it together.
“Sheriff, what the hell happened to my baby?” boomed the judge, as he stared at the sheriff.
“Sir, I don’t know any more than you do right now. We’ll find out what happened soon, but I need to get the coroner’s report before I can give you more details.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, obviously.
At the word corone
r, Mrs. Parker sobbed hysterically.
Callie took it as a sign and moved closer to the woman sitting on the couch. She took her hand in her own. “Mrs. Parker, I am so sorry for your loss,” she said, as the woman looked down at the contact.
“Who are you?” asked the woman through her tears.
“I’m Doctor Carter.”
“Oh, my Chrissy sees you weekly for her depression,” she acknowledged.
“Yes, ma’am, she does. I’m here so we can talk about whatever you need to discuss,” said Callie, handing a woman a tissue so she could wipe her cheeks.
“So, you’re like a grief counselor now?” she asked.
Callie nodded. “You can say that. I’m here to help you work through this moment. I can’t bring Sissy back, but I can at least listen to you get it off your chest.”
“Somebody killed my baby,” she said, quietly.
“Yes, they did, but the sheriff will find out who did it, and then they’ll be punished,” she said, still holding the woman’s hand.
As he listened to the women talk, Quinn saw the slight signal from the man now standing beside him.
What could he do but follow?
Quinn went out into the hallway with the judge. “What do you know, son?” asked the judge, suddenly looking tired and older than his fifty-two years.
Quinn looked uncomfortable at having to tell the man all the gory details in his child’s death. Once he let that cat out of the bag, there was no way to shove it back inside.
“Just spill it. I can get the information with you or without you. Don’t make my day any harder than it needs to be. I still have to deal with a burial and planning a church service.”
Quinn sighed before he began. “Her throat was slit, and she bled to death,” he said, looking at the anguish on the judge’s face. He couldn’t make himself tell the man about the word carved into his baby’s body.
There were limits to the fortitude of even his stomach, and watching the man crumble would be too much to watch.
“Was she…?”
“The coroner took her back to the morgue, sir, so he hasn’t given us anything yet. Really, I don’t have a clue.” That was a bunch of bullshit, and he knew it. When Quinn arrived on the scene, next to the puddle of blood and gaping throat wound, he saw the bruising on the woman’s thighs.
If it was enthusiastic sex, someone had gotten way out of control.
The judge began pacing back and forth until his anger was only simmering.
The sheriff knew it was time to begin the worst part. “I’m going to have to ask you all lots of questions. You may not like them, but your whole family is going to have to answer them. Don’t take it personally, but in order for me to do my job, I need to know everything about Sissy.”
The man nodded. “She was crazy about you,” he admitted. “All she ever talked about was Sheriff Quinton Gaines. The other day, she told her momma that she was going to marry you.”
At that word, Quinn swallowed. “Sir, I wasn’t messing around with your daughter. She was half my age,” he added, defensively. “In fact, I could have a child her age.”
The man patted him on the shoulder. “I know, son. I just wanted to thank you for not breaking her heart.”
Quinn didn't know what to say.
“Let’s get this done,” said the judge, motioning to his private study so they could start the unpleasantries.
Already, a dull ache was brewing behind his eyes, and Quinn knew it was only going to get worse. In fact, he was willing to bet on it.
There was a bad feeling brewing in his gut, and that generally meant one thing for him.
The shit was about to hit the fan.
* * *
Two hours later, Callie and Quinn were driving back to her house. From the tension in the cab of his truck, she could tell that he was in one hell of a pisser of a mood. Because of it, she opted to just let him sit and stew in his own juices. After pulling into her driveway, he didn't even look at her before speaking. “Thank you for coming with me today,” he said stiffly.
“No problem, Sheriff,” she replied, removing her seatbelt.
A few things were irritating the shit out of him. First, and foremost, was the way she refused to call him by his name. When she used ‘sheriff’ it felt so damn impersonal, like she was purposely keeping him at arm’s length. If that wasn’t enough, when he finished the interviews, she was making appointments to sit down and talk to the grieving family members. He couldn’t believe that she would take that moment and use it for financial gain. It made his gut twist in a giant knot.
“I hear you made follow-up appointments to see the judge’s wife in your office.”
“Yeah, I had to. I couldn’t get through all the guilt that she was feeling over her daughter’s loss. It’s going to take a while before she’s less of a mess. I worry about them as a family, since depression is present in their daughter,” she said easily. “I should be able to work her through grief counseling in a few weeks.”
“I guess it’s a damn good thing that you came today so you could pick up a few more patients,” he snapped at her rudely.
Wow, did he just utter those words out loud?
Immediately, he knew he was screwed seven ways to Sunday, and yet he couldn’t help himself.
He was disappointed in her.
Callie turned, the pain evident in her eyes. “I’m sorry that you think that’s why I offered to help you, Sheriff,” she said, as she opened the door to his truck.
God! There was his stupid title again, but what did he expect?
“I hope you can see why I said no to a second chance for us. We obviously have nothing in common. If you think that I would go through all of this for patients, and monetary gain, then you’re completely clueless.”
He flinched as she slammed the truck door. Deep in his heart, Quinn knew that he was taking all his anger out on the wrong person. Callie wasn’t to blame. She was, after all, a shrink, and this was what she did for a living.
Today wasn’t her fault. Quinn knew who the guilty party was, and it was him.
This was his town, and a murderer preyed one of the citizens who he was hired to protect.
When the sheriff heard her door slam next, Quinn knew that he should go apologize, but he just didn’t think she would listen. In the back of his brain, he could hear the coroner’s words about the men lining up to whisk her away from him.
Yeah, that looked like a definite possibility.
He screwed up royally, again.
It looked like Quinn was striking out, swing after swing with the doctor. All his opportunities were slowly ebbing away.
Today was just a really shitty day, all around.
* * *
The three figures stood around the altar, rejoicing at the accomplishment of murdering their first victim. The body was found before they even had the next woman chosen for the looming cleansing.
They couldn’t help but be pleased.
It wouldn’t be long before the town would have all seven sins cleansed, and their job would be finished.
“Who’s next?” asked one of the figures.
“I think I have the perfect sinner to represent the next one.”
“Who is she?”
The leader began telling them everything about the next potential victim, and what they needed to do to get her in their trap.
“She’s perfect!” the others agreed.
“I know. Now, let’s begin.”
Chapter Two
Monday Mid-Afternoon
C allie sat in her office listening to Martha Jackson bitching and moaning about the things that her husband was doing to ruin their marriage. For the third time, she tried to tell Martha that in order to help them, they needed to both come in for counseling.
How was she expecting to make this work, if only half the couple was dealing with the issues?
Once more, Martha balked, explaining that the mayor would never go to a shrink. It could hurt his political
career and they just couldn’t have that.
Callie sat there listening, but was still focused on the departing words lobbed at her by the sheriff. Yes, he was under a great deal of stress, and she was sure that he didn’t mean what he implied. Yet, it still hurt to hear them come from his mouth.
Valiantly, she tried to refocus on her patient instead of her own mess. Why it was even bothering her, was beyond Callie. It wasn’t like she was in a relationship with the man. Quinton Gaines was making her insane, and she didn't know how to stop thinking about him. Making notes in her file, she was thrilled when the timer on her desk dinged.
Thank God!
“Okay, Martha, we can continue this on Wednesday—if you would like.”
“When will the situation be fixed?” she asked Callie, as if she could work miracles.
Callie decided to take a different route to the problem. “Well, do you feel any better getting it all off your chest?”
“Well, yes, I do, Doctor.”
“Then, we’re on our way to helping you work through your issues,” replied Callie. Yeah, her incessant nagging problem was likely the root to why her husband never wanted to touch her.
“Thank you, Doctor. I’ll make another appointment immediately.”
“Good, then I’ll see you Wednesday, Martha. Give the mayor my regards.” She closed her eyes as the woman finally left. Callie was having one hell of a fantasy in her mind. It was one where she was sitting in the silence of her own home, as she had a very large glass of wine, all the while, perched in Quinton Gaines’s lap.
Damn him!
Now, he was in this fantasy too.
Only one more appointment to go, and she was home free.
Sort of…
* * *
Quinn found himself trapped in a foul mood as he read over the coroner’s report. He had told himself that the doctor was right, that they were better off not trying again. After all, a man could only chase a woman around so much, before he became a stalker.
Maybe she had a point.
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