It was nearing midnight, so crossing Highway 90 was easier than it would be during the day. A couple of cars blew past them as they crossed, but otherwise, the road was empty. As soon as they reached the beach, Kate grabbed Caleb’s shoulder and leaned over to pull her shoes off. She could feel his warmth through the tux jacket. It took effort to let him go.
Her first step in the sand sent a chill through her. It was cool and yielded to her weight. Something close to a moan escaped her throat. “I love the beach. I wish I could have a house right here.” She grabbed a fist-full of her dress, bunching it above her thighs so she wouldn’t stumble over it, and started toward the water’s edge.
The beach was wide, and the walk to the water’s edge took some effort with the sand shifting under each step, but as soon as Kate put her feet in the water, she forgot the effort it took to get there. The water was cool. It lapped gently at her feet, rolling in softly and then receding in a quiet rush.
Kate stood still, staring at the moon. Feeling the water around her ankles. Listening to the quiet, punctuated by an occasional car passing on the road or a gull complaining at being disturbed.
She closed her eyes and felt the stress of the week wash from her as if being pulled away by the receding tide.
“You know, Kate.” Caleb’s voice was so near her it sent chills racing across her skin. She fought the urge to shiver. “Maybe it’s time you started taking a little time for yourself instead of trying so hard to prove to everyone that you’re worthy.” Caleb’s voice was low, serious. His words rumbled over her and made her feel as if she’d been stripped completely naked.
How did he know her so well after only a few days? How could he read her like that?
“It’s not like that.” She tried to protest, but she couldn’t even fool herself. It was exactly like that. She’d been trying to prove herself ever since her partner, Ryan, had been killed a few years back. She thought she was past it after all this time and all that had happened in the last year, but old habits are as clingy as the sugar white sand on Biloxi beaches.
“Quit worrying about everyone else and believe in your own ability to do a good job. If you don’t, you’re going to drive yourself crazy. Or worse. Get yourself killed.” Caleb took Kate’s hand and tugged her gently.
They walked in silence for a long time. Kate thought of dozens of things to say to Caleb. ‘Thank you,’ would have been a good start. Until Caleb, Jack was the only person that had believed in her in a long time, and lately, it didn’t even feel like Jack trusted her. Caleb’s praise made her feel as if she wasn’t completely wrong for this job.
Just this department.
Maybe it was time to move on. To a new job, in another city. Start over. Again. Could she find a place where she could be a detective without her past hanging over her head?
Kate looked back over her shoulder. She hadn’t realized how far they walked. The coliseum was a small cluster of lights in the distance.
They should get back. She turned to go back in the direction from which they’d come, but Caleb blocked her path.
He stepped toward her, closing the small distance between them, and brought one hand up to her face. Gently, he tipped her face upward. “You can’t keep beating yourself up, Kate. You’re an amazing person, can’t you see that?”
He thought she was amazing? Obviously, she had him fooled. He needed to talk to Jack. Jack would set him straight.
She opened her mouth to object, but he leaned in to kiss her. Just as his lips brushed hers, his phone vibrated. A groan worked its way up from Kate’s chest.
Kate stepped back quickly. What had just happened?
He nearly kissed me. No, he did kiss me. But he almost KISSED me.
Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, but she couldn’t decide if it was excitement or guilt. Caleb was a nice guy. Good looking. He could be the complete package.
What about Jack?
The words echoed in Kate’s brain. The ache in her chest returned. She had no idea what was happening between her and Jack. Were they done? Was he more interested in his job than her? Why was he being so secretive?
She felt for the engagement ring he’d given her. She found an empty finger. The ring was at home, on her dresser. She’d put it there when she was getting dressed tonight.
Why?
She wasn’t sure. It just seemed wrong to wear the ring Jack gave her when she was going out with Caleb. Even if this wasn’t supposed to be a date.
She had no idea if she and Jack could fix this. Until she had that answer, there was no room in her life for Caleb to be more than a partner. It wasn’t fair to him or Jack.
“Kate.” Caleb stood in front of her, but the intimacy of the moment was gone, replaced by a seriousness that she’d already come to recognize. “We’ve got to go. There’s been another murder at Ingram Logistics.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Frankie watched as Kate eased out of the front seat of the Mustang. On the ride to the crime scene, they’d both been quiet.
What was she thinking?
Had he made a mistake in trying to kiss her? He hadn’t planned to, but seeing her in the moonlight, looking vulnerable? He couldn’t help himself. He wanted to taste her lips. To start the life he had planned for them.
They flashed their shields to the uniformed officers guarding the scene and pushed their way into one of the Ingram Logistics warehouses. The light inside the warehouse had a yellowish cast. Strange shadows played in the corners and between crates and containers stacked in long, high rows. Another officer pointed them toward the crime scene.
“This is different.” Kate ducked under the crime scene tape that he held up for her. “Last time the body was in the main office building.”
They stayed close to the containers as they made their way toward the lights and sounds of the investigation unit working the scene. The first thing Frankie saw when they rounded the final shipping container between them and the scene was Brandon Causey’s body, propped in a chair in an area that would have been deeply shadowed had it not been for the portable lights set up around the scene.
Blood congealed in a pool around the chair and matted Causey’s clothing. A gaping wound at the neck made the victim’s head lean back at an almost ninety-degree angle. Frankie closed his eyes for a second, schooling his response. He needed to project disbelief that someone could do this, and anger at the evil in the world. But inside, he was pleased with the scene. Causey was just another worm. Now his true worth was displayed for the whole world to see.
Frankie let Kate take the lead. “What have you got?” Marcel Devlincourt, a crime scene investigator, was working the scene again. Frankie could tell from Kate’s posture that she didn’t expect a lot of cooperation.
“Took you long enough to get here.” Devlincourt looked up from where he’d been examining the victim’s hands. “You’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?”
Frankie heard the sarcasm in the ME’s voice and chose to ignore it. Kate was right. Even without his interference, these people would never learn to accept her. Homicide, or any police work for that matter, was a job best left to the men.
Kate waited.
“Male. Mid-20’s. I.D.ed as Brandon Causey.” Devlincourt went back to examining the victim’s hands. He pulled upward, and the whole arm moved a few inches and then stopped, as if being held in place by some invisible force. “Still in rigor.”
Rigor mortis is when the muscles in the body tighten up due to the lack of blood flow and the cooling of the body. Typically, it sets in and makes the body appear stiff within a few hours after death, but it can be affected by a variety of circumstances. For that reason, it wasn’t always an accurate indicator of time of death.
Devlincourt placed plain paper bags over the victim’s hands and taped them in place to protect any trace evidence that might be present.
“This wasn’t done by the same person that killed Beth Martin.” Kate gathered the fabric of her dress and bunched it a
gainst her thighs as she bent close to the body to see what the ME’s assistant was working on. “Whoever killed Causey beat him up pretty good before they killed him. Beth Martin was taken by surprise and killed. No beating.”
Frankie caught sight of her tanned legs for the second time. He’d noticed them on the beach too. Now, he had to force himself to look away. Her legs were toned, but curvy. He bet she looked fantastic in a pair of shorts.
Or a swimsuit.
Shut up.
He shook his head and tried to pull his mind back to what was happening. He needed to stay focused. He had a plan, and in the end, Kate would be his. Then he could see her dressed however he desired. Until then, he had a role to play.
“I can’t say,” Devlincourt said. “It could be. But you’re the detective. Not me. Isn’t it your job to figure out who killed him?”
Kate’s jaw popped, but she ignored the comments and pointed to several marks on the victim’s forearms. “Defensive wounds?”
Frankie tensed. He concentrated on letting Kate handle Devlincourt. He should jump in, given his current role as her partner, but it wouldn’t change the way Devlincourt or anyone else treated her when he wasn’t around. He’d already made sure of that.
“Maybe. That’s why I’m bagging his hands. I hope there will be some useful trace. If he fought with his attacker, there might.” Devlincourt leaned back and motioned for Kate to do the same. A photographer moved closer and snapped pictures of the wound as the ME’s assistant held a ruler up to it.
As soon as the photographer gave her room, Kate pushed up and stepped back from the scene, motioning to Frankie to take over.
“Who found the body?” Frankie asked as he squinted at the wounds he’d inflicted on Causey. They were nothing like the wounds he’d seen in the pictures of Beth Martin’s body, but he suspected that based on the location alone, Kate would tie the two homicides together. He’d been wrong, but he wasn’t sure it would make much difference. If his plan played out right, she would be long gone before her suspicions were proven correct. She would be living as a proper wife – his wife – somewhere far from the Mississippi Gulf Coast.
“The other security guard. They’ve got him cooling it somewhere else in the building. I guess he was pretty freaked out.”
Frankie started to move back Kate leaned over him and pointed to the neck wound. She smelled good.
“See how the throat has been cut? It’s different.” She tipped her head to the side. “What’s that?” She pointed at a small white spot.
“Bone.” Devlincourt motioned for them to move and then laid a black body bag on the floor.
“What does it take to slit someone’s throat all the way to the bone?” Frankie asked.
“Serious strength.” Devlincourt stepped around the body and waved another investigator over. “Or training. Soldiers are trained in knife techniques like this.”
“Was the wound on the first victim that deep?” In the crime scene pictures, Frankie hadn’t seen anything that resembled bone in the wound, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. This body was positioned differently.
“Not quite.” Devlincourt folded his arms over his chest. “Anything else?”
Frankie knew Kate would bristle at Devlincourt’s impatience. Investigators should have the time they need to examine a scene and gather impressions or view evidence in its natural state. Crime scenes are documented better than a scandalous love affair, but pictures are no replacement for seeing the state of a body and a crime scene. Good investigators could learn a lot from the what was, and was not, there.
“I’m done.” Frankie looked to Kate.
A barely perceptible nod. She was finished, too. They moved out of Devlincourt’s way and watched as he and another assistant snipped the zip ties holding the body in place. They snapped pictures of each area, before and after cutting the ties. Then they lifted the body from the chair and laid it out in the body bag. Devlincourt examined the chair and the floor around, under, and behind the chair. The photographer snapped pictures at his direction.
“Let’s go find the other guard.” Frankie touched Kate’s elbow. He felt her stiffen under the slight pressure and dropped his hand back to his side.
Right. Back to partner mode. For now.
Soon he would be in charge. Then he could touch her whenever and however he wanted.
“Up here!” An urgent shout rang through the warehouse.
Kate’s features were stone. She glared at Devlincourt for so long Frankie was certain she was about to spring on him and scratch his eyeballs out. His own muscles were tight, as he prepared to get between her and the ME’s assistant when she lunged at him.
Instead, she simply spun on her heel with such speed and precision that Frankie wasn’t even sure what had happened until she disappeared around the corner of the shipping container. He could hear her steps echo as she walked quickly in the direction from which the shout had come.
TWENTY-NINE
Kate climbed the steps as quickly as she could in her four-inch heels. Already, a group of uniformed officers had gathered in a knot near an office door. By the time she reached the landing, Caleb was so close she could feel his warm breath against her neck.
She pushed through the small crowd into the office, and froze. Greg Harrington lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood. In stark contrast to the scene that she had just left, Greg’s body was less mutilated. In fact, a gaping wound at his neck and an odd angle to his head were the only indications that he had been attacked.
A rolling chair was slightly askew near the desk, but nothing else was out of place. What happened here?
“A second body?” Caleb’s rich voice came over her shoulder.
“Two murders in one night. Do you notice anything different about this scene?” Kate tugged up the hem of her dress again, and now close to Harrington’s body. “Does the angle of his head look weird to you?”
“Something is different.” Caleb made no move to join her near the body. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stayed standing in the center of the doorway, blocking the other officers on the walkway from viewing inside the room. He took a deep breath, and cocked his head, “Harrington is his name, right?”
Kate nodded, but said nothing. She wanted to hear what Caleb’s thoughts on the scene were.
“Okay, maybe Harrington interrupted whoever roughed up Causey? Maybe he ran up here and managed to get into the office before the killer caught up with him, and slit his throat.”
Kate thought about that for a moment. It didn’t add up. It didn’t look like there had been a struggle, and there were no footprints in the blood. She leaned in close. “Harrington’s throat has been cut in a different way than Causey’s. This looks more like the way Beth Martin was killed.”
“I don’t think this happened the way you suggested.” Kate didn’t offer up anymore. The pieces did not fit with the murder downstairs. She could articulate how they didn’t fit, but that didn’t answer her question. What happened here?
“Then what did happen here?” Caleb’s voice held a hint of challenge. She chose to ignore it. Already this night had been too much. Between McKenzie’s betrayal, Caleb’s kiss earlier, and Devlincourt’s attitude, Kate felt as if she’d already run the gamut of emotions. She didn’t want to fight.
“I don’t know, but to me it looks as if this was done by someone other than the person that killed Causey.” Could it be possible that there were two killers? Two separate murders done at the same time in the same warehouse? Were they together?
Nothing made sense.
“You’re saying there were two people here? That these were two separate murders?” The disbelief in Caleb’s voice was palpable.
Anger constricted Kate’s throat. That’s exactly what she was saying. Why suddenly did Caleb seem so combative?
Devlincourt pushed past Caleb into the room and glared at Kate. “You shouldn’t be in here yet. I haven’t even had a chance to look at the scene. Th
e photographer hasn’t been in here.”
He was right, but that didn’t make his tone any less confrontational. Kate had seen everything she needed to see anyway. She pushed to her feet and stepped carefully around the pool of blood. “I was just leaving.”
When Kate reached the door, Caleb stood his ground, blocking her way. “You’re leaving?” She thought his voice sounded mocking, and felt the heat of anger creep up her neck and color her face.
Without answering, she pushed past him, stalked through the small group of uniforms standing on the walkway and stormed through the doorway to the stairs. She didn’t need his attitude. What’s more, she wasn’t even sure she needed this job any more.
THIRTY
“Captain Roe?” The young officer guarding the entrance to the building drew to attention as Jack approached.
“Officer Nelson. What’s going on?” Jack was aware the young man was confused at his presence, but didn’t feel the need to explain. It was his job to be here. He didn’t need to justify his presence.
“The team is upstairs now, sir. I’m not really sure about more than that. I was told to stay by the door and keep unauthorized personnel out.” The young man’s words came out stilted and looked like he might dash away at the first sign of anger from the Captain.
Jack didn’t like making people uncomfortable unless it was a necessary function of his job. This wasn’t necessary. It was just a hazard of his position, and he had yet to figure out how to put the junior officers at ease.
His phone buzzed. David Alexander. He sent the call to voicemail and then tried to lighten the mood. “That include me?” He smiled broadly to show his words were meant as a joke.
“You…?” Genuine confusion made Nelson’s facial features go slack. So much for humor. “Oh. No sir. Of course not. I was just –.”
Jack held up a hand. “Relax, Nelson. I was just kidding.”
Biloxi Blue (The Biloxi Series Book 2) Page 18