This whole night was comforting and homey.
Deep down, he was well aware that those were two words which he had no business thinking about when it came to the doctor. She wasn’t his, and he needed to keep that in mind.
They sat in silence for a while as the sun turned pink and finally dropped behind the trees. “Thank you for dinner.”
“I should say the same about the flowers. They’re going to make me smile whenever I look at them.”
Yeah, because she was going to think about him.
To see that happen, he’d run out and buy her as many as she wanted. It would be worth it.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked when his smile disappeared and little worry lined formed around his mouth.
“Callie, can I see you again?” he blurted.
She didn't expect that. “I told you I’d help you with the case.”
“No. I mean socially. I want to take you out on another date. The Fourth of July is coming up, and there’ll be a carnival with fireworks,” he said, looking straight ahead.
“I don’t know, Quinn. We tried the dating thing, and it didn’t work out. We’re two very different people.”
“No, Callie, we really aren’t. I realized that tonight, and for the record, I am so sorry about what you saw that day you walked into my office. Sissy was always a flirt, but she only reminded me of my kid sister. I would never have fooled around with her. She was practically a baby,” he said, turning toward her.
This time, it was her turn to avert her face.
“Please, Callie. It wasn’t what it looked like. It was nothing more than a misunderstanding. She surprised me by dropping into my lap, and then you walked in. I swear to you that it was all a mistake.”
She could tell him no, and he would probably accept it. Then again, she could tell him yes and have a good time, much like they did tonight.
God! This was hard.
“I don’t know, Quinn.”
“Please, Callista. Give me a chance to be serious. What you saw before wasn’t all of me.”
“Let me think about it, okay, Quinn? It’s all that I can give you right now.”
“Okay, you think about it, but I really need a date to the Fourth of July picnic,” he said, standing up. “I have to head home, since Zeke will need to be fed before he’ll let me get any sleep.”
Yeah, like he could sleep after tonight.
“Zeke?”
“Oh, that’s my dog, and he would love you since you can cook,” he offered, heading toward his truck. He was pleased to see that she was following him. Before climbing in, he turned. “Thank you for dinner,” he said. “Would you get mad at me if I tried to give you a goodnight kiss?”
Everything in her soared to life. In all honesty, Callie felt the need to wildly giggle like some high school girl. Here was some sexy guy, and he wanted to kiss her.
“You can,” she answered. “If you try to cross a line, I think I can fight you off,” she added, laughter filling her eyes. “Besides, it’s only a kiss.”
Yeah, famous last words.
He thanked his lucky stars before pulling her gently against the front of his body. With his free hand, he placed it on the back of her neck. Callie was tall, lean, and fit against him nicely. Even though he needed to bend to bring his lips to hers, it still felt perfect.
The way he was taking his time with the kiss was driving her crazy. The slow easy way in which he was urging her mouth open under his, was sweet and erotic on so many levels. As he put more of himself into the mating of mouths, she finally gave in and let him lead the way.
God, this was one hell of a kiss.
Callie ran her free hand across his chest. When her fingers found skin, she slowly pulled away. She needed to stop, while she still could.
“Goodnight, Quinton. Drive safe,” she said, gently stroking his cheek before she escaped back to her house.
He couldn’t tear his eyes from her until she was gone. So many emotions were flooding through his body that he didn't think he could focus.
“Well, hell,” he muttered, as it occurred to him that he was in so deep in now, that he might never find his way out.
Climbing into his truck, he forced himself to think about the cold shower that he was going to take the minute he got home.
Zeke was going to have to wait.
There were other priorities.
* * *
Monday Night
Aimee Jo walked toward her car after the grocery store closed. She had counted her drawer and locked up like she normally did. Right now, she couldn’t wait to get home to look through the new magazines that had just come in. There were pictures of all the TV and movie stars to add to her collage in her bedroom. Aimee Jo wanted to be famous someday, longing to be just like the Hollywood actresses in their gorgeous clothes and fancy cars.
Eventually, it would happen.
Waving goodbye to Beulah, she threw her bag and purchases onto the passenger seat. Behind the wheel, Aimee Jo turned the key.
Nothing happened.
“Well, hell,” she muttered, grabbing her cellphone. As she began dialing, a rag closed over her mouth as she was violently yanked from the driver’s seat. Before long, everything started going black.
Oh God! Her thoughts immediately went to how Sissy had just turned up dead. It gave her the incentive to fight even harder, kicking as she struggled to get free. Unfortunately, her arms felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each.
Then, it didn't matter.
The entire world went black.
When Aimee Jo slowly returned to awareness, there was the rush of fear through her body. As she struggled to get free from the bindings, which trapped her arms above her head, tears filled her eyes. Immediately, she began screaming as she saw the cloaked figures move out from the shadows and toward her.
“Who are you?” she sobbed, hoping this was some sort of prank. Then, she noticed that she was naked, and that this was well beyond some high school joke.
“We are ‘The Brethren of the Blood’, and we’ve come for you, Aimee Jo.”
That was unacceptable to her. If anything, her life was just beginning, and she didn't want to die. She had so much more to live for, and it couldn’t end like this.
Life couldn’t be this cruel, could it?
She tugged on her bonds, and her flesh burned as the skin was torn by her frantic motions. “What do you want with me?”
“We need your blood. Our plan is to use it to cleanse the sins in this town. You know all about sins, don’t you?”
She didn't know what that meant. Aimee Jo was young and had just started dreaming about life. How could she be sinning?
“It’s time,” the leader demanded, pointing at the tied up young woman.
She screamed again as the two other cloaked individuals stepped toward her.
“No, please don’t!” she begged, as the first figure disrobed, displaying the identity of her captor. “No! Please! I won’t tell anyone about you, just let me go, please!” A sick feeling began building in her body. Suddenly, the magazines, the pictures, and the makeup didn't seem so important. If given a chance, she’d give up all the fanciful dreams just to have more time.
“I don’t deserve this!”
The remaining two laughed, ripping off their hoods. They enjoyed the confusion that crossed her young face, as she recognized each of them. The fear returned and was joined by rivulets of tears.
“You, but why?” she begged, needing to know. Before anyone could answer her, something was shoved deep into her mouth and taped firmly in place. Aimee Jo immediately panicked and began choking on the gag.
The first figure smiled, pulling out a wickedly curved knife. It was now time to make the sacrifice.
A hood was shoved down over Aimee Jo’s head but it was too late for her. The material was making her gag, and that was causing her to asphyxiate.
Aimee Jo knew the truth.
She was dying.
Her
life was officially over.
The first figure wielded the knife, carving the message into her young body. Once it was done, the town could be whole again.
It was their fondest wish as concerned citizens.
“Do you think the police know?” asked the one who had taped Aimee Jo’s mouth closed.
“No. They haven’t a clue. The sheriff is washed out and couldn’t do his job if he wanted to.”
“But the woman,” the other said. “She has his attention, and everyone else’s.”
It was fairly simple.
“If she gets in the way, there’s always a sin with her name on it, or should I say, she can have the sin on her?”
There was laughter.
Sick.
Sardonic laughter.
It filled the air and was music to their ears.
“Come. Let’s get this one placed, and return to our lives. I look forward to watching the police run in circles.”
They all did.
This was more than just a cleansing.
It was now a game of cat and mouse, except they were the predator, ready to pounce.
It was easy to find the location to place her.
After all, they had it all worked out. Each one would have their special and final resting place.
As they placed her body in Harper’s Grove, there was no doubt this was the right thing to do. It wouldn’t take long to find her, and that was the best part.
For now, it was all about setting the scene and leaving nothing behind. Before the final slice was made, the hood and bindings were removed. While she was already dead, they wanted to be consistent, sticking with the plan.
They needed the trickle of fluid to prove a point.
Blood tended to cleanse just about everything.
Aimee Jo was no exception.
As they walked away, they left her staring blankly into the heavens with the only word needed to remember her by.
Envy
It was carved into her body and would tell the cops everything they needed to know about the young girl.
The three killers knew that by tomorrow, she would be found, and the town would know that their sins were being cleansed for them.
Whether they liked it or not.
Chapter Three
Tuesday Morning
A fter finishing her run, Callie headed into the house so she could shower and get ready for work. She had eight patients today and planned on going to the grocery store after work to replenish her dwindling supply.
If she got lucky, maybe she could score something fresh as the new shipment of produce came in to be stocked. If not, she would have to make time to head to the farmer’s market sometime during the week.
It didn’t take her long to shower and dress.
Callie chose black linen pants and a short-sleeved chartreuse colored shirt. It was going to reach almost one hundred today, and she wanted to be comfortable when she had to leave the air conditioning of her office. As she slid into her expensive dress shoes and glasses, her mind was on a certain man.
It was difficult not to wonder if he had a hard time sleeping last night, like she did. All evening, Callie tossed and turned, only to find herself trapped by the scent of his cologne. It was woodsy and made her want to hunt him down just to repeatedly sniff him.
Obviously, her control was quickly fraying at the seams, if a lingering whiff of a man was causing her mind to wander like this.
Who was she kidding?
It was that kiss.
Oh, hell’s bells! It was something every sweaty fantasy she had ever had was made of, and that was going to be a huge problem.
“I have to stop thinking about him,” she muttered, as she forced herself out the door and into her car. For now, work had to come first.
Then later, he would be running through her mind.
Naked…
* * *
In his kitchen, Quinn stood drinking a cup of coffee. At that point, he was hoping it would wake him up. He hadn’t slept well at all, as he kept dreaming about Callie and the kiss they shared. He spent half the night uncomfortable, and the remaining portion of the night staring at the ceiling.
Finally giving up, he took Zeke for a walk. If this was any indication of how his day was going to unfold, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
Maybe he could stop by Callie’s office to spend some time with her. There was still hope that he could try to convince her to go to the Fourth of July picnic with him.
Hey, miracles could happen.
Besides, he was due.
He was just pouring a second cup of coffee, when his phone began ringing. Since he recognized the tone, he already knew it was bound to be bad news.
His office searching for him this early, generally meant the shit was about to hit the fan.
“Hello?” he said grumpily.
“Sheriff? It’s Junior. We have a big problem.”
“What is it?” he asked, taking another sip from his cup. He wasn’t sure if he should get worked up or not, since his emergencies, and those of his deputies, were generally vastly different.
There was a nervous pause. “Aimee Jo Wilkes never came home last night after work,” he said. “Her family is in a tizzy. If this gets out, the whole town will be in an uproar.”
“What the hell?” he asked, spilling coffee on his bare chest.
“Should we send out the deputies to search for her?”
“Yeah, get them out there now. I’ll call you on the radio when I get moving. Tell them all to keep this hush- hush, for now, until we see what’s going on. We don’t need everyone freaking out and starting complete and total chaos.”
“Yes, sir, but you know how fast word travels here in town.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, as he hung up the phone. Christ! What was going on in his town?
Rushing toward his room, Quinn slipped into his polo shirt and gun holster, before grabbing his cowboy hat and keys. Once dressed, he headed out to search for another woman. This time, he prayed that she would be alive.
* * *
Two hours later, he looked down at the body of Aimee Jo Wilkes. The crime team had already begun the process of collecting evidence and pictures. In all honesty, Quinn couldn’t believe that there was another murder in his town. Two in just as many days, and if that was an indicator, it was going to be a nightmare.
As the crime scene investigators began working, they found that this one had subtle differences. When they removed the tape, they found that Aimee Jo’s panties were coated in blood and vomit.
“She choked to death, Sheriff,” said the technician, bagging the evidence.
“Well, shit,” he muttered, feeling more irate than anything at the moment. “She was just a kid.”
“Sheriff, we have to do something,” Deputy Oaks said. “We have a predator,” he whispered, making sure no one heard him.
Quinn was well aware. This called for drastic measures. Pulling out his phone, he called Callie’s office. When Marti answered, all it took was the word ‘emergency’. Callie picked up less than a minute later.
“Quinn, what’s wrong?” Her voice was filled with worry. If he was calling her, then that had to mean something bad had happened.
“We have another body. I really need your help.”
“Is it the same as last time?”
“Yes and no. There are little differences, but this one’s worse. I hate to bother you, but can you come to the scene and check it out before the coroner takes the body to the morgue? I need your personal opinion, as a former profiler.”
“Yeah, I’ll drive right over. What’s the address?”
That wasn’t happening. They had someone killing women, and his guard was up. He wasn’t willing to risk her by having Callie wander around alone.
“No, I’ll send Jimmy Lee over to get you. He’ll be there in ten minutes, so be ready.”
“Okay, Quinn. I’ll be waiting,” she said, hanging up the phone.
Callie now
had to ditch her appointments. Glancing over at Mr. Ames, she only hoped he wouldn’t mind. “I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this short. There’s a medical emergency, which I’ve been called to, so we will have to reschedule your session for later in the week,” she stated.
“Okay, Doctor, if you say so,” said the older man as he stood. “I hope it all works out for the person you’re rushing off to see,” he added.
Yeah, that wasn’t likely.
“Yes, Mr. Ames, and thank you,” Callie replied, following him to the outer office. Once he was gone, and the door was closed, she got Marti’s attention. “Cancel all my appointments for today and reschedule them for next week.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, but I have to leave the office for a while, so when the deputy gets here, come get me. Then, I want you to close up and head home.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she replied, picking the phone up so she could take care of everything. Marti didn't mind a day off in the middle of the week.
Then, it occurred to her. This was very odd behavior. If Doctor Carter was closing up shop for the day, that meant something bad had to have happened.
* * *
Callie rode in silence with Jimmy Lee to the crime scene. The man beside her was giving off some bad vibes. His face looked anxiety ridden, and Callie could feel his agitation. Since he didn't appear to want to talk, she had to assume that it was because they had another victim. Not everyone handled crime scenes well.
When he stopped the car, he handed her a pair of rubber gloves. “You’ll need these,” he said, pointing in the direction of where the body was left. As she headed toward the police tape, she noticed Quinn not far away. If the look on his face was indicative of his mood, there was about to be one hell of a storm.
“Sheriff,” she said in greeting. “What can I do for you?” she asked.
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