Cold Case, Hot Accomplice

by Carla Cassidy

  “Possible, but there’s one basic element lacking—what’s the motive? Why would Edward want to kill Liz?” Steve always liked to approach solving crimes by looking for the motive.

  “Maybe Edward really was ticked off that Liz didn’t want him introduced to her family,” Frank offered.

  “So ticked off that he drove her halfway up the mountain, killed her and then buried her body? Sorry, buddy, but that motive doesn’t have many teeth as far as I’m concerned.”

  Frank nodded. “Especially since, from everything we could find out about Edward, he has no history of violence at all. The man doesn’t even have a speeding ticket on his record.”

  “We’ll still check out the cabin, see if there’s anything there. Roxy is supposed to be at the station at two to look at some knives. I doubt that will take too long, so we might be able to take off for the mountain around three.”

  “Should I contact Jed Wilson and have him bring a couple of dogs?” Frank asked.

  Jed Wilson worked search and rescue and had dogs that were trained to find people who were alive and people who were dead. “Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a couple of his dogs sniff around and see if they get a hit in the area,” Steve replied. “I’ll need something of Liz’s for them to have a scent to follow. I’ll get something from Roxy and get back to you.”

  “If the dogs don’t catch a scent on the van, then maybe it’s pointless to search the cabin,” Frank pointed out.

  “But they will get her scent in the van. I’m sure during the course of Edward and Liz’s relationship, she’s ridden in his van.”

  Steve pulled into the parking space near the police station, unsurprised to see Roxy’s car in a nearby space even though it was only one-thirty.

  Of course she’d be early, and now he had the heartbreaking task of telling her that Edward Cardell had returned home and Liz Marcoli hadn’t been with him.

  It was a conversation he didn’t want to have with her because he knew he’d see the fear, the frightening uncertainty crawling into the depths of her lovely eyes. He also knew when that happened he’d want to pull her close and kiss her trembling lips in an effort to staunch her fears.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her before. He’d known that kissing Roxy would be hot and sexy and imminently addictive. The problem was that he wanted to kiss her again...and often, and that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

  She was like a shining beacon seated in front of Jimmy’s desk as Steve and Frank entered the room. She was clad in a bright pink T-shirt and black jeans, with her hair a riot of dark curls and her energy filling the entire room. The mere sight of her hitched his heart.

  Her smile was somber and reminded him of what she’d been through the night before. He walked over to where she sat and, unable to help himself, lightly touched her shoulder.

  “You’re early,” he said and noticed the slight shadows that clung to the skin beneath her eyes. “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

  “Not much,” she admitted. “But Jimmy found the knives I’m pretty sure were thrown at me.”

  “Well, that’s something,” he said and pulled up a chair next to her. Apparently she didn’t know yet that Edward Cardell had returned and Liz hadn’t been with him.

  He wasn’t about to bring it up right now. He wanted to focus on the threat that had occurred last night. “So what did you find?”

  Jimmy swung his computer around and pointed to where the screen displayed a pair of throwing knives that had ornate cross hilts. They looked both beautiful and deadly, and Steve’s heart stuttered as he thought of how close those blades had come to Roxy’s head.

  “There’s good news,” Roxy said, her eyes holding an overbright, frantic light that Steve knew could only mean bad news. “They’re called Vampire Cross Throwing Knives, so all we have to do now is identify any vampires in town and bring them in for questioning.”

  Chapter 9

  Roxy desperately tried to find humor in the situation, but she certainly wasn’t laughing as she stared at the photo of the knives that had nearly pierced through her the night before.

  “So anyone who is wearing a cross or has garlic hanging in their windows probably shouldn’t be on our suspect list,” she said.

  Steve fought the impulse to touch her again as he sensed the disquiet that threatened to erupt into a roar inside her. “Roxy, I have it on good authority that we don’t have to worry about any vampires here in Wolf Creek. I’ll have Jimmy chase down any place in town that carries those kinds of knives, and maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  Steve looked at Jimmy for confirmation. “Sure, I already know a couple places here in town and in Hershey that specialize in martial-arts weaponry. I’ll start checking them out right now and see what I can find out about the buyers.” He got up from his desk and looked at Steve. “I’ll give you a call and let you know what I find out later this evening.”

  Roxy stared at him and braced herself against the back of the chair. She sensed he knew information he hadn’t shared, information she probably didn’t want to hear. “What?”

  He pulled his chair closer to hers and started to reach for her hands, but she refused to allow him to grab them. “I know you have something to tell me, so just spit it out.”

  “Edward Cardell came back from the cabin earlier today.”

  She’d half risen from the chair before he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back down. “Liz wasn’t with him,” he said.

  She stared at the shaggy-haired surfer dude she’d come to rely on, the man who had somehow transformed from a flirting, buzzing, irritating fly to a solid, hardworking rock she wanted to cling to.

  “What did he say?” Her voice sounded hollow, and she realized at that moment how desperately she’d hoped that her aunt was with Edward, that she’d thrown caution to the wind and gone off for four days with her secret lover.

  “That the last time he spoke to her was Thursday night, to tell her goodbye before his trip to the cabin.”

  “And you believed him?” Roxy was acutely aware of his hand still on her arm and she welcomed it, for the place where he touched was the only warmth her body possessed.

  He hesitated. “He appeared to be genuinely upset by the fact that nobody has seen or heard from her since Friday. We checked his van and found no evidence that your aunt was in there. But to be sure, Frank and I are heading up to the cabin to check things there.”

  “Frank and you and me,” she replied.

  “Roxy—”

  “Don’t even think about leaving me behind,” she exclaimed. “Have you forgotten that a vampire tried to kill me last night? I need my aunt, and if she’s in that cabin then I intend to be with you when you find her.”

  “We don’t know what we’ll find there, Roxy. Maybe nothing, or maybe—”

  “I know,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear him say anything more. For the first time she realized the possibility that she might never see her aunt again, the possibility that whoever threw the knives at her the night before might be the same person who had done something horrible to Aunt Liz.

  She moved so that his hand no longer touched her arm and straightened her back. She had to be strong. “I have to go with you, Steve. If you find something bad there, then I need to know before my sisters so I can be the one to tell them.”

  His gaze lingered on her, as if assessing whether she was truly strong enough to survive whatever might be ahead. She raised her chin a notch, despite the fact that every internal organ trembled with the fear that before the night was over they’d find out her beloved aunt was dead.

  “Okay, even though I know this is probably a mistake, you can come with us. But you have to stay out of our way and let us do our job,” he finally said.

  “I promise.”

  It was exactly three o�
��clock when Roxie sat in the backseat of Steve’s car, Steve behind the wheel and Frank riding shotgun. In her lap she held Liz’s favorite soft pink cardigan sweater. Liz kept it hanging by the back door and often pulled it on during this time of year.

  Roxie anxiously chewed what was left of her thumbnail as they reached the curving mountain road that would twist and wind them to the cabin. Both Marlene and Sheri had called that morning to check in with her, but she’d had no news to share with them, only the promise that she’d let them know if any information came to light.

  It had been five days since anyone had seen or heard from Liz. Roxy realized with each day that passed that the odds of finding her alive were growing slim.

  When she heard the two in the front seat talking about Jed showing up with his dogs, she knew they were not only looking for an alive Liz, but a dead one, as well.

  She tried to hang on to a piece of fragile hope, but given the circumstances, it was becoming more and more difficult. She simply couldn’t imagine her life without the woman who had saved her from her mother, the woman who had taught her how to be human, how to love and be loved.

  She stared at the back of Steve’s head as she dropped her hand from her mouth to her lap. He confused her. If he was the womanizer rumors made him out to be, there had certainly been no signs of that in the past five days.

  Not only was she intensely physically drawn to him, but she’d found him to be tender and caring and definitely patient with her.

  Not many men had the patience to be around her for any length of time. Gary certainly hadn’t been able to deal with her volatile personality long-term. He’d spent most of their relationship trying to change her, not simply embracing who she was and loving her.

  The truth was that she knew she was difficult to love, that her past had made her defensive and wary, prickly and controlling.

  Her own mother hadn’t loved her enough to keep her. The only people who had ever truly loved Roxy were Aunt Liz and her sisters, and the idea of no longer having her aunt in her life pressed a tight weight of frantic grief into her chest.

  She sat up straighter as they turned off the main road and onto a rutted mountain pass that was little more than a trail. The newly leafed trees slapped against the roof of the car as thick brush rubbed the undercarriage.

  Roxy checked the clock on the dashboard and buried her hands in the softness of the sweater in her lap. They had to be getting close to the cabin where Edward had spent the past four days. Had he kidnapped Liz and brought her up there? Had they fought and something snapped inside him—had he killed her and buried her someplace out in the woods?

  Roxy’s thumbnail found its way back to her teeth, and she nibbled as wave after wave of nervous tension filled her. Would this be the end of their search? Or would they leave the cabin with more questions than answers?

  Steve met her gaze in the rearview mirror, and in his eyes she saw the depth of his concern, not just for her, but for the victim they sought.

  “We should be getting close,” Frank said. “The turnoff for the cabin should be on the left someplace in the next couple of miles or so.”

  They were deep in the woods now, with trees and brush nearly choking off the trail. The idea that her aunt could be in the woods, wandering around lost and alone, or dead, made drawing normal breaths nearly impossible for Roxy.

  “There,” Frank said and pointed to a turnoff just ahead.

  Steve took the turn, and after driving half a mile the first thing they all saw was Jed’s bright red pickup parked in front of a wooden cabin that appeared as if a strong gust of wind might blow it down.

  As they pulled up behind Jed’s truck, the two dogs in the back began to bark. Jed got out of the truck, and with a sharp command the dogs fell silent.

  They all got out of the car and Roxy stared at the cabin, which was obviously intended to be a hunting or fishing shelter as opposed to a vacation destination.

  Roxy hugged the sweater to her chest as they all greeted each other. Jed was a nice-looking guy in his early thirties who lived on a farm not far from the Amish settlement. He had a respectable business training working dogs and was a frequent breakfast visitor at the Dollhouse.

  With the greetings out of the way, Roxy followed Steve and Frank up the rickety stairs that led to the cabin door. Steve used a key to open the door, and the three of them stepped inside the one-room structure.

  “There’s no way Aunt Liz would come here on her own,” Roxy said, trying to hide her disgust as she looked around the dingy room that was lit only by the sunlight drifting through a dirty window.

  There was a single cot shoved against one wall and a small counter with two cabinets above it. A rickety two-top table sat in front of another wall, and that was the sum of the amenities.

  “No electricity, no running water. I’d say this is definitely not a hot spot for a romantic getaway,” Frank said.

  Steve walked around the small room, his gaze appearing to take in every minute detail. Was he looking for bloodstains? Splatter on the walls?

  Roxy needed to get out. The very idea that her aunt might have been brought to this hellhole was too much for her to handle.

  She stepped outside and drew in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air and hugged Aunt Liz’s sweater closer against her chest. It smelled of her aunt’s favorite scent, a combination of lilac and vanilla.

  Jed had gotten back into the cab of his pickup, and Roxy was grateful not to have to make small talk. She stepped off the porch onto a path that apparently led toward the back of the cabin.

  She’d done what Steve had asked of her last night and spent most of the morning in her own little kitchen upstairs, writing down the names of anyone and everyone she could think of who might want to hurt her.

  But right now she couldn’t think about her own brush with death. Right now her thoughts were only about Aunt Liz. It had been easy for Roxy to fill a page with people who might not like her, but it had been impossible to come up with the names of anyone who might want to harm Liz Marcoli.

  If they didn’t find some trace of her here, if Edward Cardell was truly innocent of any involvement in her disappearance, then Roxy didn’t know what the next move would be.

  She’d received half a dozen calls resulting from the posters they’d hung, each call nuttier than the next. She tried to pull her thoughts together as Steve and Frank left the cabin, and Steve approached her while Frank went to speak to Jed.

  “I need that sweater now,” Steve said gently. She nodded, and after a final hug of the soft material that smelled like Liz, she handed it to him.

  She watched as Jed got the dogs from the back of the truck and held the sweater beneath each of their noses. It was like watching a movie. Somehow she’d emotionally detached from everything that was happening around her.

  After Jed’s shouted command, the dogs took off, one heading toward the open door of the cabin and the other shooting off into the woods. The dog that had run into the cabin came right back out and continued sniffing the ground; then he, too, headed toward the wooded surroundings.

  Jed followed the dogs while Steve and Frank leaned against the pickup. Several times Steve looked at her, as if willing her to join them, but she remained alone, trapped in a daytime nightmare that felt surreal.

  The scent of pines surrounded her as the dogs barked and suddenly she was thrust back in time, back to a seedy motel room that smelled of pine cleanser and sweat. A big man was in the room with a pit bull on a chain, and the man was yelling at Ramona about money.

  Roxy was curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed, terrified that the man would release the snarling, hot-breathed dog, afraid that the dog would eat her and that the man would kill her mother.

  Ramona had ordered Roxy outside and had taken care of the problem with the man with the only commodity Ramona ha
d. Roxy had sat just outside the door in the darkness of the night and had sworn that she would never be dependent on anyone else for the rest of her life. Men had destroyed her mother, and Roxy would never follow in her mother’s footsteps.

  She jumped as Steve touched her on the shoulder, pulling her from a past nightmare to the present one. “The dogs didn’t pick up any scent,” he said and handed her back Liz’s sweater.

  “So she wasn’t here?”

  “According to the dogs, she wasn’t here.”

  Roxy nodded and headed back to the car. She should be relieved Aunt Liz wasn’t there. But there was no relief, for there were no leads anywhere.

  * * *

  She’d checked out. Steve glanced in the rearview mirror at Roxy, who hadn’t spoken a word since he’d told her the dogs hadn’t picked up any scent of Liz.

  She sat still as a statue, her head turned to peer out the window. He was worried about her. She seemed shut down in a way he’d never seen before. The internal fire was doused, leaving only a shell.

  When they reached the station, Frank went inside the building and Steve stopped Roxy as she started to head to her car. “Do you have a list of names for me?” he asked.

  She nodded and pulled a piece of paper out of her jeans pocket. “I listed everyone I could think of who might have a reason to dislike me. It even shocked me that it was such a long list.”

  She spoke the words without emotion, her tone flat and her eyes still holding an emptiness that was very un-Roxy-like. The knives the night before...the cabin today...the absence of the rock in her life—it was apparently all too much.

  “Why don’t you come with me to my place for dinner?” he asked. “I’ve got a couple of steaks I can throw on the grill and enough fixings for a salad.”

  She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter where she went or what she did. “Okay.”

  He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until flames lit the depths of her empty eyes. He wanted to demand that she return from wherever she’d run to in her mind.