by Kylie Brant
Shit. Her eyelids slid shut in chagrin. If the voice didn’t give him away, the note of derision in it would have. Cait finished placing the sample in her pack before rising to face him.
Temper lent Sharper a lethal air that was all the more chilling for the grim watchfulness in his eyes. Surliness she was used to. But there was more here than she’d observed the other times she’d seen him. He looked like he hadn’t slept. He sure as hell hadn’t shaved. Given the smell emanating from him, she’d bet he’d spent the time instead marinating in alcohol.
Caution settled over her. Because this was a Sharper she wasn’t familiar with. Her mind flashed back to her earlier conversation with Raiker about the guide’s time in the military. Silent and deadly. Silent, she could attest to. His approach had been soundless until he’d spoken. Deadly . . . if his expression was anything to go by, she was on very thin ice.
Expertly, she skated over it. “I didn’t know you were home.”
“Guess you wouldn’t since you didn’t bother to knock.” His gaze traveled to her open pack, then back to her face. “I know you have a phone, so that can’t be the reason you didn’t call, either.”
“I figured you’d be at work.”
“I’ll bet you did,” he murmured. Folding his arms across his T-shirt-clad chest, he added, “As a matter of fact, I figure that’s why you came. I don’t know about the laws where you come from, Slim, but around here we call this trespassing.”
The figurative ice beneath her feet cracked a bit. “Be reasonable. Your vehicle wasn’t in the drive. You’re always harping about the business I’m keeping you from, so I figured you must have a tour.” She waited a beat. “Why aren’t you at work?”
There was a flash of something in his eyes, there and gone so quickly she might have imagined it, if she didn’t make a habit of observing things like that. He bared his teeth. “I was on the Willamette for eight hours yesterday. I spent another four cleaning gear and putting it away. My employees are running three tours today and needed my vehicle. Anything else you want to know?”
Her usual flawless sense of self-preservation failed her. What she needed to know was how to get out of there without losing a limb. But instead she found herself wondering what had put that bleakness in his expression. The one that reminded her of a gaunt lone wolf, howling his pain at an uncaring moon.
“I’m sorry I bothered you.” And she was. Sorry she hadn’t picked another day, another time to put to rest the niggling suspicion before it could fully form. Sorry she’d seen a side to him that made him all too human. It was far easier to deal with Sharper when she didn’t feel a tug of pity for him. She lifted her pack and shrugged into it. “I’ll get out of your way and let you enjoy your time off.”
Cait didn’t get two steps before his fingers closed on the strap of her pack and yanked her to a halt. “I don’t think so. Not before providing me with a few answers. And anything else I ask for.”
The innuendo was unmistakable. Pulling away from his grasp, she turned to face him, anger pulsing. “Don’t be a jerk, Sharper. I haven’t hurt anything. I apologize for not getting your permission before looking around. Mea culpa, okay?”
“It’s not okay.” His voice was silky smooth now, with the slash of temper layered just beneath it. “Not until you tell me what the hell you thought you’d find here.”
She hesitated, mentally flipping through her options. She doubted he’d cry foul to Andrews. And even if he did, the most she’d get was a hand slap from the sheriff. But she wasn’t willing to share any details from the case, either.
“How about I make it easy for you? I’ve been carting you around to all the hot springs in the area, and you’ve been taking soil samples. That map in your pack”—he flicked it with his finger—“shows the location of different kinds of soils. You must be looking for a kind found near hot springs. I’ve got one on the property, although it’s hardly on the same level as the ones you’ve already visited.” He released his grip on the strap and stepped back a pace. “Since the distinctive element in hot springs is sulfur, you must have found sulfur on some of the bones, and that’s why you’re taking samples from every goddamn piece of land you can access. Legally or not.”
Ignoring his obvious exaggeration, she nodded. It wasn’t exact, but he was close enough to the truth for it not to matter at this point. “Something like that.”
Her affirmation didn’t lighten his expression any. If anything, it grew more menacing. “And what? I found the bones, I’ve got sulfuric soil on my property, so I must be a killer? Sounds pretty thin to me, but then I’m not some cover girl for a cop shop out east, so what do I know?”
He had a knack for igniting her temper. “Very little, from where I’m standing.” And sighed inwardly when she saw his eyes narrow. With effort, she reached for patience. “You want to deny me access to your land? That’s your right. Want to insist I give back the soil samples? Can’t stop you. I’ll note that in my report and move on.”
His glare would have struck sparks off flint. “Make sure you get permission at the next place, sweetheart. People around here value their privacy.”
Cait gave him an insincere smile. “So you’ve said. I’ll let you know when I need your help again. I assume you’re still at the sheriff’s beck and call?”
It was like baiting a tiger. He had that same still watchful air prior to pouncing. “Caitlin.”
Her flesh prickled. How could a man’s voice manage to sound silky and menacing at the same time?
“You’ll want to be very careful.” The first step in her direction was meant to be threatening. The next would have had any woman in her right mind making tracks.
She held her ground, stiffened her spine.
“You’re on an isolated piece of property.”
She could smell the alcohol again. Not on his breath. More like it was coming out his pores. How much had he drunk? He didn’t seem intoxicated. He damned sure didn’t appear impaired.
He just seemed lethal.
“No one around to help you.” Another half step. Alarm pulsed through her veins. Every muscle in her body tensed. “With a man you really don’t know very well.”
Coolly, she lifted a brow. “Worried about me? Don’t be. I’ve taken down bigger men than you without breaking a sweat. Back off.”
“Or what?” One of his arms snaked around her waist, the hand skating down her spine. Lower.
“Sharper, if you don’t take your hand off my ass, you’re going to be picking your teeth out of the dirt.”
“So you’ve had training to take men down hard. Think that makes you tough? Lots of us had training.” His words filtered through her anger, piquing her interest. But that interest was fragmented by the recognition that he hadn’t moved his hand. And his face was far too close to hers. “Here’s the thing about toughness, though. No matter what you think you’re prepared for, there’s always something that smashes everything you think you know to hell. Everything you think you can handle.”
“I’m warning you, Sharper.” But even she heard the shake to her voice. His words were summoning a memory she’d spent a lifetime locking away. The darkness eeked out. Swirled through her mind.
“You find out how tough you are when you’re dodging men’s body parts after an IED detonates.” The edge to his voice was razor sharp, each word nicking skin and drawing blood. “Or when you inhale the pink mist, all that’s left of the guy who was the closest to the explosive. One of the toughest guys I knew swallowed his gun last night because, hey, guess what? Toughness didn’t mean shit when they sent him home minus his legs and half his face. Ever see what’s left of a guy who eats his gun?”
The past sprang forth like a great fanged beast, snarling and tearing through the gauze of the present.
She was eight again. Fingers in her ears. Cowering under the desk until the weapon went off. Choking back strangled sobs as she crawled out. Did what she had to do.
Just get the gun. Remember what I told you
. Don’t look at anything else. Don’t look.
But of course she had. How could she not? And the image had been seared on her retinas, branded across her memory ever since.
“Blood spatter everywhere. Bone fragments in the chair cushions. Caught in the drapes. Gray matter on the desk. On the gun.”
The gun she’d had to pick up. The one she’d had to hide in the special place he’d shown her.
She wasn’t sure how much time stretched out before she became aware of the change in Sharper’s gaze. On his expression. It was another long moment before she realized she’d spoken the words out loud.
Mortification warred with panic. She wrenched herself from his grasp. Easy enough since he’d dropped his hands, stepped away, still surveying her carefully.
“Cait.”
“I have to get back.”
With swift movements, she straightened the straps on her shoulders and turned. Began striding rapidly away. And slowed, her steps faltering. Looking over her shoulder, she found him watching her. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
Then she headed toward her vehicle, leaving the man behind to stare silently after her.
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Chapter 6
“Cait , where are you?”
“Coming up on the morgue, why?”
Barnes’s voice held a note of excitement she didn’t recall hearing before. “Good. I’m already there. See you in a few minutes.”
Disconnecting the phone’s blue tooth, she gave a shrug and turned off into the morgue parking lot. She drove to the back of the building, the area closest to the lab accommodations.
It had started to mist again on the outside of town. Which mirrored her current attitude to perfection.
Her mood dark, she got out of the vehicle, loaded down with pack and purse and computer bag. Locking the door behind her, she jogged to the building.
Barnes started speaking as soon as she was in the door. “One of our deputies found this in the forest wrapped in a towel, about four miles from Castle Rock.”
This turned out to be a saw. Flecks of blood still marred the stainless steel blade. And, she peered closely, there were splinters of what would surely turn out to be bone embedded in the towel.
“Looks like an E-Z Saw. The kind used for splitting the pelvic bone of large game.” She looked at Barnes. “Did the officer happen to notice a blood spill near the site where he found this?”
The deputy shook his head. “That’s why I brought it to you. He said this was wedged under some rocks. It’s a long shot, but I figured you could test it. At least see if the blood is human.”
Mentally readjusting her schedule, she nodded. “We can do that and have results by tomorrow. We already know some sort of saw was used to decapitate the victims. I need to examine the marks on the vertebrae and try to identify the family of instruments they came from anyway. I can do that before testing for latents, I guess.”
“If I know the specific tool, I can start looking at purchases made around here recently. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find the perp that way.”
She smiled, saying nothing. Cait had a feeling things weren’t going to be quite that easy, but Barnes was right about one thing. The tool marks were going to be valuable information. Once they found the offender, they could link him to the crimes if he still had the saw in his possession.
“Kristy,” she called.
Her tech showed up in the doorway of the other room. Cait blinked once. Beneath her lab coat, the woman was clad in an eye-popping shirt of electric blue and fuchsia. “Bad lighting when you were getting dressed?”
“Bite me,” Kristy suggested cheerfully. “Steve bought it for me. We went to a country fair last night outside Springfield. He said it matched my electric personality.”
“Were you by any chance sticking a screwdriver in a light socket at the time?”
The finger extended only halfway before the woman caught herself, tucking her hand chastely back at her side. “Since my first response is both unprofessional and unladylike, I’m going to forget you said that.”
Cait gaped. She couldn’t help it. If the ME was helping Kristy break a bad habit where—let’s face it—she herself had failed, more power to him. But the fact that he’d managed to do so only because he possessed a Y chromosome and her assistant had the hots for him was a bit hard to swallow.
Shaking off the reaction, she indicated the saw and towel on the counter Barnes had brought with him. “Deputy Barnes needs the blood tested for species identification.”
“Sure.” She strolled into the room to survey the instrument before looking up at Cait. “Do you want me to run the Ouchterlony or crossover electrophoresis?”
“Run the Ouchterlony test. If I’m not here in the morning, call me first thing to let me know whether you have results yet.”
“You got it.” The tech picked up the materials with her gloved hands and headed back into the adjoining room.
Barnes’s gaze followed the woman until she disappeared. Cait didn’t blame him. Few people knew what to make of Kristy.
“So what else do you have so far?” Mentally she was calculating how long it would take her to examine the saw marks on each set of remains. All day, she realized with a sense of resignation. Which would push her latent exam back until at least tomorrow or later. But this was probably a better use of her time. Whatever tool had been used to decapitate the victims would have left certain evidence. The same couldn’t be said about whoever had handled the bones prior to their being found in those bags. Finding a latent on the skeletal remains was going to be a long shot.
The deputy’s attention returned to her. “It’s been slow going with the ranger stations. Most of their help is on the other side of the state, fighting that forest fire.”
She nodded grimly. Whenever the TV was on, local news was providing updates. “So the stations are short-staffed.”
“I’ve got officers at various stations helping with the file review. And I’ve been following up on the offenders myself.” He itched his upper lip as if the newly grown mustache was bothering him. “Been concentrating on locals or those who live in the state for now.”
“It’s a starting point. Let me know if you want help.”
“Will do.” He pushed away from the counter.
As the deputy headed toward the door, she stashed her purse, then dug out her cell phone and put it on the desk in the corner of the room. If the detectives she’d contacted today started to return her messages, she didn’t want to miss their calls.
Then she took her pack into the next room and started to withdraw the soil samples. “I have a present for you.”
Kristy glanced up from her work. And immediately groaned theatrically. “No fucking way. I just got caught up on the other ones!”
“These are special.” She shied away from the memory of the scene earlier that day with Sharper. “But they can wait until you finish the plates and treat the long bones in each set of remains with Acryloid B-72.” The preservative would give the bones an artificially glossy nonporous surface suitable for dusting for latents.
Cait looked through the contents of the shelves on the other side of the room until she found a pair of magnifying goggles, which she set on the nearby cart holding the stereomicroscope and scanning digital camera. “You owe me a buck, by the way. Two if you don’t want me to tell Michaels Steve about your lapse.” Carefully she began pulling the cart across the room. That was the pain of temporary lab quarters. Nothing was ever where she needed it.
Though her back was to the other woman, she heard the smirk in her voice. “Turns out he has a love-hate relationship with my language. When it’s dirty talk, accompanied by a little soft bondage . . .”
Cait hurried her pace a bit. “I’m not listening.”
“. . . he has a surprisingly high tolerance for it. As a matter of fact, he asked me to say . . .”
“La-la-la-la-la . . . can’t hear you.” She escaped with the cart into the
other room while Kristy was still laughing.
She manipulated the cart over to the first gurney, which held the remains of female A. Adjusting the goggles over her eyes, she switched on the lights on either side of them and then picked up the camera to scan in digital pictures. When she was finished, she’d hook the camera to the stereomicroscope and use it to display the pictures with maximum resolution on the monitor.
At least her time spent with the victim would elicit nothing more risqué than the secrets behind the saw marks on the severed vertebrae.
That was infinitely preferable to hearing the details of Kristy’s love life.
At five minutes to eight, Cait followed the hostess through the restaurant to the table for two in the corner. Marin Andrews lowered her menu as Cait approached. “I’m glad you could make it. Hope you like Thai food.” She paused, did a quick once-over of Cait’s figure. “And that you eat.”
Stifling the quick flare of irritation, Cait picked up a menu. “My starving-model days have been behind me for a decade.”
The sheriff grunted. “You won’t be sorry. The chef here is excellent.”
Several minutes passed before Andrews put down her menu, signaled the waiter. Cait held off until after he’d scribbled down their orders and hurried away before asking the question that had been plaguing her since Andrews’s call a couple hours ago. “Your call sounded urgent.”
The sheriff raised her brows over the rim of her water glass as she drank. “Didn’t mean for it to. I wanted to talk to you before tomorrow morning and thought dinner would give us the time and privacy we need.” It was obvious she’d come from the office herself. She was still in uniform.
“What’s going on tomorrow morning?”
“Press conference.”
Of course. Cait sat back in her chair, a measure of cynicism rising. Sharper had said something a couple days ago about how little information had been released to the media. She’d been surprised at the time that Andrews had restrained from regular press updates.
It was another reminder that the woman was no fool. And that she had a plan that reached far beyond this case.