Scene of the Crime: Black Creek

by Carla Cassidy

  He just needed to finish this assignment and get back to his own life. He frowned thoughtfully as he remembered what Cassie had said about him, that he was spoiled by his sisters.

  It was true. His house was cleaned, his clothes were washed and his meals were provided by his sisters. He was like a teenager with three doting mothers rather than a man taking care of himself.

  Maybe he should take a few pages from Cassie’s book, get more organized, take care of himself and tell his sisters it was time for them to back off and let him grow up.

  He’d accused Cassie of allowing her past to dictate what her future would become, but wasn’t he guilty of the same thing? After Sarah he’d shut himself off from the idea of any meaningful relationship with another woman and he’d maintained a thick case around his heart since then.

  Until now. Until Cassie.

  He’d been well on his way to joining her on Lonely Street, but something about his time with her had made him realize he didn’t want that to be his final address.

  He wanted love in his life. He wanted a wife and eventually a family. He would always be sad about the baby Sarah had aborted, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want the opportunity to have children.

  Cassie had been his awakening, and his heart ached with the fact that she was determined to keep herself alone, to remain in her safe, uncomplicated world all alone.

  At precisely five o’clock Cassie came out of the bathroom. Her slacks were navy, her blouse was red, and her mood was quiet.

  “Are we not going to talk to each other?” he asked as they left the suite and headed up the sidewalk toward the Loving Couples Café.

  He was aware of Agent Bob Hastings walking just in front of them and knew that one of the other agents would be behind them, but he was just as aware of a new tension between him and Cassie.

  “We can talk,” she replied, her voice exceptionally calm and controlled. “We can talk about the town, we can talk about the weather. We can even talk about the case, but all other topics are off-limits.”

  “If you’re expecting some sort of apology from me then you’re going to be disappointed.” There was no way he was going to apologize for asking her out or for what he believed were statements of truth.

  She released a weary sigh. “I don’t expect anything from you, Mick.”

  They walked a bit in silence. The streets were clogged with couples laughing and chatting as they headed to a restaurant or an activity they would probably remember for the rest of their lives. Honeymoon happiness was everywhere, and yet somewhere amid the smiles and laughter, a killer lurked, waiting to take his next victims.

  “You were right about one thing,” he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had sprang up between them.

  “What’s that?” Once again her lovely blue eyes held a wariness he knew that he’d placed there.

  “I am spoiled. I’ve come to the conclusion that I need my sisters to take a step back from my life.”

  “You don’t have to change your life because of something I said,” she protested.

  “I’m not,” he replied easily. “I’m making some changes for me. It’s past time. They need to live their lives without worrying about me. It’s time they all stop thinking about me as a motherless little boy and let me grow up.”

  “Trust me, you’re a grown-up,” she replied dryly.

  By that time they’d reached the café. In terms of cafés, this one was definitely upscale. Although there was the requisite long and shiny counter, they were led to a booth covered in rich black leather.

  As usual, the moment they were seated opposite each other, Cassie aligned the salt and pepper shakers side by side. It was a habit he now found oddly charming.

  Bob Hastings took a seat at the counter and Mick assumed the other agent remained outside. Mick expected no trouble inside the café. The killer they sought was too smart to make a move in a public place like this where there were so many potential witnesses and he could be trapped inside.

  A waitress appeared at their table with menus. They placed their drink order with her and then she left with the promise to return shortly.

  Despite the excellent steak Mick ate, in spite of the fact that they lingered over coffee and dessert, the air between them remained strained.

  Mick attempted some small talk but it took two to make a conversation and Cassie apparently wasn’t in the mood. She made eye contact with him only by accident and seemed entirely pulled into herself.

  “You know you have to get over being mad at me,” he finally said with frustration. “We still have a role to play here.”

  She looked at him for a long moment and then leaned forward and covered one of his hands with hers. The smile that curved her lips upward shot a familiar flicker of fire through his veins. It wasn’t just a physical reaction, but triggered a heart response, as well.

  “Don’t worry, I can do my job just fine,” she said and then pulled her hand from his. She leaned back in her chair, her gaze lingering on him. “Besides, I’m not mad. I’ve just been reminded that blurring the lines between our professional and our personal lives isn’t smart. I’m here to get a job done, Mick, and that’s all. From here on out we have to keep it professional.”

  “Duly noted.” He tried to ignore the surprising edge of disappointment that attempted to take hold of him.

  As they left the café and headed back to the suite they hadn’t gone far when they met Deputy Alex Perry and Deputy Ralph Gaines, who were obviously patrolling the streets as darkness fell.

  “Evening, gentlemen,” Mick greeted them. “Out keeping the streets safe for the tourists?”

  “That, among other things,” Perry replied.

  “We’ve also been assigned to keep an eye out for potential victims that fit the profile…pretty blonde women and dark-haired men,” Ralph said as he pulled off his hat and swiped at his forehead. “Even though Sheriff Lambert feels our man is focused on the two of you, he’s worried that if he can’t get to you he’ll choose another couple, and we don’t want that to happen.”

  Mick nodded. “I’ve worried about the same thing. I’d like to leave your town behind with nobody else being murdered.”

  “We’d all like that,” Alex Perry replied.

  They small-talked for several minutes and then Mick and Cassie continued toward their suite. “I hope it’s us,” Cassie said as they reached their door and she waited for Mick to unlock it. “I hope he’s so focused on us he isn’t even looking around at other people.”

  Mick opened the door and ushered her inside. “That makes two of us,” he agreed.

  “I think I’m just going to go to bed,” Cassie said as she headed for the bathroom.

  “But it’s not even eight-thirty,” Mick protested.

  “It’s been a long, stressful day. I’m ready to get a good night’s sleep.” She disappeared into the bathroom.

  Mick knew she was escaping him by going to bed so early, but he felt wired and knew that sleep would be a long time coming. He turned on the small lamp next to the love seat and sat down, then pulled the manila file folder that Sheriff Lambert had provided for him.

  Since he’d first looked at the information inside he’d worried that somehow they were all missing something important, that the evidence held a key nobody had picked up on. He’d read through the reports a half a dozen times, but now picked them up to read once again.

  He’d only gotten through half of the background information on the victims when Cassie left the bathroom, wearing the sexy, cute nightgown with the kittens. He tried not to pay attention to her as she walked over to the switch that would turn off the overhead light.

  “Do you mind?” she asked.

  “Not at all. Will this lamp bother you?”

  “No, it’s fine.” She shut off the overhead lamp, plunging the room into darkness except for the small pool of illumination around the love seat and coffee table.

  He couldn’t help himself. He watched as she crossed
the room and got into bed, cursing himself for the conversation before dinner.

  It was obvious that by asking her out, by indicating that he’d like a relationship with her away from here, he’d crossed a line. By doing so he’d destroyed the easy, natural relationship that had been building between them.

  He frowned and turned his focus back on the reports. There was nothing in the victims’ backgrounds that jingled any bells of alarm. Other than their close physical resemblance there was nothing else to interconnect their lives.

  He moved on to the crime scene and evidence reports as a headache attempted to blossom at the base of his skull. The scent of Cassie wafted in the air, her clean, slightly floral perfume attempting to play havoc with his concentration. Rubbing the back of his neck, he reminded himself that he couldn’t think about Cassie anymore other than in her role as his partner.

  Realizing that the impending headache had gone away, he moved on to the crime-scene photos. They were gruesome memorializations of the last gasps of breaths the honeymooners had taken on this earth.

  The headache he thought he’d circumvented reappeared, stretching taut across his forehead as he continued to study the photos.

  Both couples had been in suites much like the one he sat in now. The two men were on their knees, slumped forward against the wall, each with a single bullet hole to the back of their heads. Quick, efficient death, he thought.

  Professional.

  Unemotional.

  The descriptive words snapped through his head in a rapid rhythm.

  The women were tied up on the beds, duct tape over their mouths, the front of their nightgowns crimson from the knife wounds that pierced their hearts.

  Killing with a knife was far more up close and personal than killing with a gun. A knife to the heart was far different than the bullet to the back of the head.

  Why use two methods of killing? Why one for the men and another for the women? Why not just shoot them all?

  Quick.

  Efficient.

  Mick’s heartbeat quickened. He thought about the events of the past couple of days. Cassie, somehow locked in a sauna. Cassie, nearly the victim of a hit-and-run, and the two bullets that had pierced the side of the canoe had been up front, where Cassie had been seated.

  He stared back at the crime-scene photos. Had the men been wrong place, wrong time kind of victims? Had they been killed simply so the murderer could obtain access to his real, intended victims?

  It was all about the women. The minute the words resounded in his head, he knew the rightness of his assessment.

  The object of the killer’s desires had not been the couples, nor had it been the men, but rather the petite blondes the men had married.

  It was all about the women, the thought thundered through his brain again as his gaze shot across the darkened room to the bed where Cassie slept soundly.

  This was a game changer. If his theory was right, then the killer wasn’t focused on him and Cassie as a couple. His focus, his single goal, was to kill Cassie.

  There was no way in hell Mick intended to allow her to be dangled as bait a minute longer. The fish that was after her was too smart, the risk far too big.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Cassie, hurry and get up.”

  The deep male voice shot familiar urgency through her dream, along with a horrible sense of dread. No, she mentally cried out. She didn’t want to have to leave here. She liked it here. She’d even made a friend. No, Daddy, please don’t make us run again.

  “Cassie, come on. Sheriff Lambert is going to be here in just a few minutes,” the deep voice said.

  Sheriff Lambert? Cassie’s dream fell away as consciousness began to take hold. She opened her eyes and squinted against the overhead light. Mick hovered over her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked with a touch of crankiness. “What time is it?” Why had he woke her up in the middle of the night?

  “A little after midnight. You need to get up and get dressed. Lambert is coming to take you out of here. You’re off the case.”

  “What?” She shot upward. “What are you talking about?”

  He tossed her a blouse and a pair of shorts “I’ll explain everything after you’re dressed. Now go.”

  She wanted to protest, but his features were taut with tension and his green eyes were dark. He didn’t appear to be in the mood for any kind of an argument. She grabbed the clothing, slid out of bed and hurried into the bathroom.

  Something had happened while she slept, she thought as she dressed quickly. But what on earth could’ve happened at this time of night that would have Director Forbes pull her off the case? And why was Sheriff Lambert on his way over to take her someplace?

  Her eyes narrowed as she ran her brush through her sleep-tousled hair. Or maybe this was something a little more personal. She’d let Mick know she wanted nothing to do with him after this case was over and suddenly she was off the case?

  She slammed the hairbrush down on the counter with more force than necessary. If Mick McCane thought he was going to somehow punish her for personal reasons, then he had another think coming.

  She stepped out of the bathroom to find him standing at the front window staring out into the darkness of the night.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” she demanded.

  He turned from the window to face her and although his features were still rigid, a flicker of something soft lit his eyes and then was gone.

  “We aren’t the target, you are, and that changes everything.” He glanced back out the window and then back at her again.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He began to pace the room, energy coming off him in waves. “Think about it, Cassie. The men were shot but the women were bound and stabbed.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why any of us didn’t see it before. The men were simply collateral damage. The women were the desired targets.”

  Cassie sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to absorb this new information. “But this is just a theory of yours,” she finally said.

  “It’s the right theory.” His voice was strong with conviction. “We’ve had three close encounters with the killer. All three of those close calls involved you, not me.”

  Cassie stared at him as her mind went back over the past couple of days. “But this really changes nothing,” she finally said in protest. “We were sent here as bait and I’m still the bait.”

  Mick shook his head. “Not anymore. Both Director Forbes and I agree we need to back off and stash you someplace safe while we work through this new point of view. Sheriff Lambert is going to take you to the motel in Cobb’s Corners where you and I stayed last night. You’ll stay there until you get further word from either me or Forbes on where we go from here.”

  There was no more time for conversation as a soft knock fell on their door. Mick opened it to admit Ed Lambert, who was out of uniform and appeared to have just crawled out of his bed.

  “Pack up whatever you need to,” Mick instructed her. “At this point we don’t know if you’ll be returning here or not.”

  As Cassie went back into the bathroom to gather up her toiletries, she felt the same kind of helplessness she’d felt as a child. The world was spinning out of control and she had nothing to hang on to.

  “Just go with the flow, Cassie.” It was Mick’s voice that whispered in her head and she quickly packed up her toiletries.

  The knot inside her chest relaxed a bit. She’d be fine in Cobb’s Corners for the rest of the night, and hopefully tomorrow everyone would understand that she was their best chance for catching this killer.

  She left the bathroom with suitcase in hand. Mick and Ed were seated on the love seat and both jumped up as she entered the room.

  “An agent will be watching your room at the motel in Cobb’s Corners,” Mick said.

  “Do you really think that’s necessary?” she asked.

  Once again, a softness whispered in the depths of Mi
ck’s eyes. “I’d rather have a little wasted manpower at work than have anything happen to you.”

  “Have you forgotten I’m an FBI agent and can take care of myself?” She said the words more harshly than she intended. When he looked at her like that he made her feel vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with the killer’s target on her back.

  “No, I haven’t forgotten,” he replied smoothly. “But two FBI agents are always better than one. Besides, you won’t even see the other agent if he’s doing his job right.”

  “So, are we all set?” Ed asked, looking like there was nothing he’d like more at the moment than to crawl back into his bed.

  “All set,” Cassie agreed.

  Ed opened the door and stepped outside. Cassie was about to follow him but was halted when Mick grabbed her arm.

  “I’m sorry, Cassie. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” He raised a hand and stroked his fingers down the side of her face. “Be safe,” he whispered, and then he released her and gave her a gentle shove out of the door.

  Thankfully, Ed didn’t attempt any conversation on the thirty-mile drive to Cobb’s Corners. Cassie didn’t feel much like talking anyway. She did notice Ed checked his rearview mirror often, obviously assuring himself that they weren’t being followed.

  She stared out the passenger window into the dark of night. She wasn’t afraid of being alone in the motel room, she figured the odds of the killer being aware that she’d been moved out of town in the dead of night were slim to none.

  What scared her just a little bit was having too much time to think, too much time to think about Mick, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. Her cheek still burned from the softness of his caress.

  “I’m sorry you had to get out in the middle of the night,” she finally said when they hit the city limits of Cobb’s Corners.

  “No problem. It’s part of the job.” He turned into the motel parking lot. “I’m just glad to get you out of harm’s way for now. We have planned a big powwow in the morning with my team and all of your fellow agents to see what the next move should be.”

  “We know I’ve already captured the killer’s attention. You should put me back out there,” Cassie said.