Strand of Deception

by Robin Caroll

  “Love you too. Tell Dad I said hello.” Nick hung up the phone and ambled to the kitchen for a glass of tea. He shrugged off his unease. He had plenty of time to shower and shave before picking up Maddie for their date.

  Date.

  Nick hadn’t realized how much he’d enjoyed their first date until she hadn’t called and then he saw her at the crime scene. Especially since he hadn’t been amused when he discovered she was the blind date Timmons had set him up on. Rafe’s sister. Inappropriate and unacceptable. Yet highly pleasurable.

  He could beat around the bush as much as he wanted, but he enjoyed being around Maddie Baxter.

  His cell rang. “Hagar.”

  “It’s Timmons, sir. The doll and message are on their way to Peter Helm.”

  “Excellent work. Did you get my note about Mantle’s alibi?”

  “I did. I’ll hunt up the good professor and try to pin down an exact time she was in class.”

  “Thanks.” Nick glanced at his watch: almost six thirty. “Go home, Darren. Spend some time with your daughter.”

  “I was just about to leave but wanted you to know about the doll.”

  Nick waited. “Is there anything else?”

  “Well, sir, it’s not really related to the case. At least, I don’t think so. But maybe it could be. I don’t know if it’s something—”

  “What is it?” It wasn’t like Timmons to rattle on.

  “It’s about Maddie, sir.”

  Nick set his glass of tea on the counter. “What about her?”

  “Well, it seems she filed a report with Memphis police last night. Threatening phone calls. Repeatedly.”

  “What kind of threats?”

  “The implication of her being attacked was clear.”

  Nick fisted and unfisted his hand. “What did Memphis PD do?”

  “Took the report and advised her to change her number if the calls persisted. Wrote up the request for drive-bys to her neighborhood, if patrols could be spared.”

  “She only got involved in the case yesterday.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Not likely the calls had anything to do with Ford’s murder, but . . . “What about Eva Langston? She report any threatening calls?”

  “I checked. No record of it.”

  “Any media on the TBI team who responded?” Maybe the killer had seen her on television and targeted her.

  “I haven’t reviewed all the locals, but the shots I’ve seen weren’t definitive of the people.”

  So it probably had nothing to do with their case, but just the thought of her receiving threats made Nick’s pulse race. “How did you find out about it?”

  “Well, sir . . . um. I have a friend in the police department. When Rafe left, I asked her to flag Maddie’s address in the event anything came up and to make me aware.”

  Nick grinned. “Rafe asked you to look after his sister, did he?”

  Timmons gave a nervous chuckle. “Yes, sir.”

  “Smart move.” Then something else dawned on him. “Was I part of the looking after her? The date you set us up on?”

  “Uh . . . well . . . um . . . sir . . . uh—”

  “Never mind. I get it.” Nick shook his head. “Does Rafe know you set us up?”

  “No way.” Timmons whooshed air. “I don’t mean it like that. I just meant that I didn’t tell him because he’s so protective of his sisters.”

  Nick laughed. “I understand. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “But Timmons?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I’d sure like to see a copy of that report. And let me know if your friend passes you any additional reports about Maddie, would you?”

  “I’ll get that copy and keep you in the loop.”

  “Just to make sure the threats aren’t related to the Ford case.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Nick grinned. He wasn’t fooling the man. “Good night, Timmons.” He hung up and headed to the shower.

  As the hot water splashed down on him, he mulled over the details. His mind could come up with a number of scenarios, but the two biggest questions were: Who would threaten to attack Maddie? Why? As Nick dressed, he determined to figure that out.

  Nerves hit him during the fifteen-minute drive to Maddie’s, and he couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was knowing she’d been threatened. He punched in the code at the neighborhood gate and waited for the wrought-iron bars to swing open. Perhaps it was being reminded she was Rafe’s sister. Or could it be he had accepted he was intrigued and attracted to her? He rolled into her driveway. No matter, he needed to get his cool on.

  He sank deeper into his leather coat as he bounded up to the front entrance of her house and stepped under the two-story, bricked arch. He rang the doorbell, then glanced around the area. While her neighborhood was gated, there were numerous places outside her home for someone to hide in wait. Like in the dark space of the small flower bed between the garage and the entry. Or someone could crouch in the flower bed to the right of the front door. And he hadn’t noticed a security light on the front-right corner of the house. Anybody could lurk undetected by the wooden fence surrounding the backyard if there weren’t any motion-detector lights.

  Why hadn’t Rafe ensured his sister’s property was better lit? Nick would figure out a way to make minor suggestions. Just a couple of nonoffensive tips, like how she could—

  The door opened and Maddie stood there, bathed in the light from behind her. Every sane thought left his head.

  It was as if time froze as he took in every detail. She wore black slacks, form-fitting, that tucked into knee-high black boots. Her black sweater hugged every curve from her shoulders to midthigh. She had a deep red scarf around her neck that hung to her knees. A shiny band held her auburn waves off her face. She’d switched her black-rimmed glasses for metal-framed ones. But it was the smile she wore that made him forget his name.

  “Hello, Nick.” Her voice even sounded huskier.

  “Maddie. You look beautiful.” His tongue was suddenly three times too thick for his mouth.

  She smiled wider and her telltale blush flushed her cheeks. “Thank you. And you look very dashing yourself.”

  “Are you ready? Our reservations are for eight.”

  “Sure. Let me grab my coat.”

  He helped her slip on the long, red coat, then watched as she set her security system. At least he could feel somewhat better about that. “Have you ever thought about getting a dog? A big guard dog?” The question slipped out.

  She chuckled as he led her to his car. “I hadn’t thought much about it before, but Rafe’s fiancée, Remington, has a beautiful dog.”

  Nick secured her in the front seat, then rushed around to his own. He started the car quickly, keeping the interior warm. “I didn’t know what you liked to eat, so I made reservations at Folk’s Folly. I hope that’s okay.”

  Maddie grinned and fastened her seat belt. “I’ve never met a steak I didn’t like.”

  And he’d never met a woman who fascinated him quite so completely.

  Nick Hagar’s smoldering stare should be outlawed.

  Or at least registered. Women needed to be warned.

  Maddie focused on his small talk about dogs while her heart thumped wildly against her ribs. She’d nearly fainted when she opened the door and saw him. It was as if he’d stepped off the cover of GQ and onto her doorstep. The man certainly knew how to make an entrance.

  “Do you have a dog?” She didn’t really want to know, just wanted to hear him talk. With his voice, he’d missed his calling to be a deejay.

  “With the hours I work, I can’t. I’d love to have one, though.”

  “Yeah, I work a lot myself. Like this weekend
.”

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  She gripped the armrest as he made a sharp right turn. “We have two teams and rotate being on call as the response team. If we gather the evidence, we stay with it until completion. Less chance of contamination that way.”

  “Makes sense. Do you get called out a lot?”

  “Depends. We had three calls in December, none in January, and this one is our first in February.”

  “Do you like it? Your job, I mean?”

  “I do. I love it, actually.”

  He shot that intense stare of his at her for a moment. “What about it do you love the most?”

  “I like seeing justice prevail.” She pinched her lips together. Maybe she’d said that a little too glibly. “I mean, there’s so much unexplained violence in the world that causes so much pain, that I like being able to help bring justice.” The image of Simon Lancaster’s face stamped against her memory. “That doesn’t undo the horrible things, but sometimes, just sometimes, it provides a measure of comfort to know justice has been served.”

  He was quiet for a moment. She’d said too much. Gone too serious on a date.

  “You’re referring to the man who killed your parents?”

  “Kind of.”

  “We don’t have to talk about it if it’s too painful for you.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She stared out the windshield into the dark. “He killed my parents because he was drunk. No amount of jail time would ever bring them back. The pain my siblings and I went through can never fully go away. But in prison, I understood he became a Christian. He apologized for his actions. Took responsibility. That’s why I didn’t testify at his parole hearing, even though Riley was livid.”

  “You didn’t testify?”

  “No. In my heart, I felt like he had been punished enough. His staying behind bars any longer wouldn’t bring Mom and Dad back. Simon had changed.”

  “Because he claimed to become a Christian?”

  She cut her eyes at him. “I believe he found Jesus in jail and gave his heart to Him, yes.”

  Rafe had said many, many times that Nick was a good, honest man. Yet she couldn’t recall him ever mentioning if Nick was a Christian or not.

  “So you believe people can change?”

  “I have to believe that. I don’t know if I could accept living in a world where everything was set—good or bad, black or white, guilty or innocent.” She watched the headlights of oncoming vehicles starburst against the windshield. “Don’t you believe people can change?”

  “In my experience, very rarely do I see someone change. I mean, really change.” Nick pulled the car into the restaurant’s lot and made a first pass, looking for a space. “I’d like to believe people can, but I just don’t see it. Not enough anyway.”

  She clicked loose her seat belt. “But even if it’s just one person who truly changes, doesn’t that mean we should keep trying to let those who do change start over?”

  “Is it worth it if we think someone’s changed and they aren’t, and they hurt someone else? I can’t live with that.”

  “But on the flip side, look at the man who killed my parents. He changed, was released, and ended up dying taking a bullet for my sister. That saved her life.” She pushed back against the seat as he whipped into a vacant parking space. “To me, yeah, it’s worth it.”

  Nick killed the engine and shifted to face her. “I see your point, but you have to understand that situations like that are few and far between.”

  She nodded. “I do. But I’m willing to at least consider the possibility that people can and do change. Not every time. Not even most of the time. But sometimes. And I’m okay with that.”

  “Me too.” He unlatched his seat belt. “You ready?”

  Well, at least he could sense when they needed to agree to disagree. She smiled, letting him lighten the mood. “I’m starving. Eva and I had sandwiches at the lab.”

  “Then let’s go. Have you eaten here before?” He slipped out of the driver’s seat and was at her door to open it for her before she could reply.

  “It’s one of Rafe’s favorite restaurants. Right behind B.B. King’s on Beale Street.”

  “Ah. The best ribs in Memphis. Love ’em, but usually get them to go.” He held her elbow as he led her to the restaurant’s door. The heat transferred through the wool of her coat.

  She chuckled. “They do make a mess, don’t they?”

  “But they are the best.” He smiled at her, and Maddie’s heart pounded.

  This man could make her take the third chance with her heart.

  Maddie Baxter confused the tar outta him.

  She’d forgiven Lancaster, even when Rafe and Riley had spoken to prevent Lancaster’s parole. Rafe was a Christian too, but Maddie forgave when Rafe didn’t. How did that make sense? Was Maddie a more devoted Christian than her brother?

  The maître d’ sat them quickly, a nice table in the corner. The soft music coming from the pianist in the lounge drifted into the restaurant, providing a perfect ambiance. The enticing aroma of steaks and onions grilling made Nick’s mouth water.

  “What are you going to have?” He knew what he wanted . . . could almost taste it already: the Filet a la Duxelle, a petite filet piped with seasoned mushroom puree, wrapped in Applewood smoked bacon, and smothered with sliced garlic mushrooms. Medium well, of course. Nobody made prime cuts of steak quite like Folk’s Folly. It’d been a tradition in Memphis since 1977.

  Maddie scrunched her nose as she perused the menu. “There’s so much to choose from. Can I just say yes to everything?” She chuckled.

  As if. The woman was slight, probably weighed no more than a buck ten, soaking wet.

  The waitress appeared table side with their iced teas and waited for their orders.

  “I’ll have Maker’s Mark Medallions. With extra peppercorn sauce, please.”

  Nick gave his order, then the waitress took the menus and whisked away.

  Maddie propped her chin in her hands and peered at him with those knockout chocolate eyes of hers. “So, tell me something I don’t know about Special Agent in Charge Nick Hagar.”

  They hadn’t really gotten into much on their first date. It’d been cut short when she’d gotten the call that her sister had been shot. “Well, there’s not much to tell. You already know what I do.”

  “What are your hobbies?”

  “Working out. I’ve run a couple of marathons and enjoyed them.”

  There was that cute nose wrinkle again. “What kind of music do you like?”

  “Country. What about you?”

  She gave a little shrug and took a sip of her tea, after she squeezed her lemon into the glass. “I actually like most all music, but I absolutely adore Elvis Presley.”

  That’s right, he remembered hearing her singing that under her breath. “Everybody loves the King, right?”

  She grinned. “What about books? Do you like to read?”

  Heat teased his face. “I do. I’m an avid reader.”

  “Let me guess: true crime?” She chuckled.

  “Ah, but you’d be wrong. I love science fiction.”

  She frowned. “Like outer space stuff?”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. “Yeah. Like Dune. 2001: A Space Odyssey. All those kinds of works. Let me guess, not your thing?”

  “I like to read inspirational romantic suspense. Where something bad happens but everything goes on in the end. And that there’s hope. Always hope.”

  Her strong religious ideals were coming out to play again. “You like hope, huh?” He grinned, hoping to disarm her.

  “I do.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What about you? Are you a Christian, Nick?”

  He hated this question. Didn’t know how to answer it honestly, r
eally. “I believe in God, Maddie. I believe in His son, Jesus. But I’m having a hard time just accepting what happens. Too many times, I think, God sleeps on the job.”

  Her eyes widened. “How can you say that?”

  “Because I can.” His tone hardened, even though he really had no intent of doing that. “I mean, let’s just say I’m having a hard time dealing with some of the things God lets happen. Can we leave it at that?”

  “Okay.” She took another sip of tea and nodded. “What about your family? You already know mine.”

  “Dad’s retired Marines. Mom always the homemaker. They live in Florida now. Moved there when I was just out of college.” They’d needed to get away from the memories, at least that’s what Mom said. He’d always figured Dad was the one who needed to get away.

  From Nick. From the reminder that Roger was taken but Nick was left behind.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Maddie’s chin was back in her hands with her elbows propped on the linen tablecloth. “Terrible pests that they can be.”

  His throat clogged. He took a sip of tea. “I had a brother. Older. Roger, Junior.” He took another sip. “He was a Marine. Died in Iraq, Desert Storm.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Maddie reached across the table and laid her hand over his, squeezing.

  “It’s okay.” He sure liked the feel of her hand on his. Made him almost forget the ache that he was always second to Roger in every way imaginable. And Dad had never let him forget it.

  “No, it’s not. I’m really sorry, Nick. I know how it hurts.” The empathy in her eyes nearly had his heart and stomach swapping places. She did know. She could understand.

  Yet another thing they had in common—grief.

  Chapter Ten

  “After a hard day of basic training, you could eat a rattlesnake.”

  Elvis Presley

  “That was perfect.” Maddie set her utensils on the plate. While she’d indicated the food, she also meant the company.

  She and Nick had laughed at movies they both found silly, debated political policies without either getting riled, and talked about the sad state of the nation’s economy.