Scene of the Crime: Bachelor Moon

by Carla Cassidy

  Jeff must have sensed the barely suppressed rage inside Sam. Sam hadn’t missed the quick over-the-shoulder glance Jeff had given before stepping out on the porch. Sam knew with a gut certainty that there was somebody else in the house.

  For a long moment the two men stared at each other and finally Jeff stepped away from the door. “I don’t want a scandal,” Jeff said as Sam entered the house.

  Sam didn’t give a damn what Jeff wanted or didn’t want. All he needed was to find Daniella and Macy and get them home where they belonged.

  He’d only just entered the living room when he heard the creak of floorboards from upstairs. Were they up there locked in a room? Unable to get out or call for help?

  His heart crashed against his ribs as he raced up the stairs. He didn’t give a damn if Jeff tried to make a run for it. They would find him wherever he tried to hide. At the moment all that was important was getting to Daniella and Macy.

  At the top of the stairs he saw that all the doors to the bedrooms were opened except one, and it was to that one that he ran.

  He threw open the door and froze in stunned surprise. Tina from the café squealed in surprise from the bed where she lay. She clutched the sheet up to her bare chest, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

  Sam nearly fell to his knees in disappointment. “Were you here all night?” His voice sounded hoarse, alien to his own ears.

  She nodded, her eyes wide as she saw the gun in his hand. “What are you doing in here?”

  “Nothing.” He tucked the gun back in his waistband and headed down the stairs where Jeff stood at the front door.

  “Tina and I had a few drinks last night,” Jeff said. “Things kind of got out of control. I would prefer you not mention this to anyone. This is a small town, and I don’t want people thinking less of Tina.”

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” Sam replied. Emotion tore up the back of his throat.

  “You’ll let me know about Daniella and Macy?” Jeff asked.

  Sam nodded and then hurried to his car. He pulled out of the driveway and down the block and a cold wind of despair blew into him.

  It was such an icy blast it brought tears to his eyes, and he had to pull over against the curb. He’d been sure. He’d been so sure that Jeff was the one behind it all, and he’d been wrong.

  Now he had no idea which way to turn, which direction to look for them. He was an FBI agent—a profiler, for God’s sake—and he was utterly powerless to help the people he wanted to help most.

  Unable to shove down the grief that clawed at him, he lowered his head to the steering wheel.

  DANIELLA HAD LOST ALL track of time. She had no idea how long it had been since she’d awakened. Macy had apparently gone back to sleep, for she’d been quiet for the past hour.

  She and Macy had talked through the door for a long time, chatting about happy days and favorite things. Daniella had been desperate to waylay any fear that Macy might feel.

  Unfortunately nothing she said to Macy diminished the fear that gnawed like cancer inside Daniella. Surely everyone knew by now that they were missing. Sam would be frantic and Jim would be investigating.

  But how could they find out who was responsible when she didn’t even know who it was? How was Sam going to find them when she didn’t even know if they were still in Bachelor Moon?

  A sound came from outside the door at the end of the room. Somebody was coming! Her heart beat so fast she felt light-headed as she waited to see who was behind the door.

  There was the sound of the key in a lock and then the knob began to turn. Daniella held her breath, wondering what a monster looked like in the flesh.

  Frank. The monster looked like Frank. For a moment her brain couldn’t make sense of it as he stepped into the room and smiled at her, the same kind of smile he’d given her every day since he’d first come to work for her.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” he said, as if he were greeting her in her own kitchen.

  Daniella stood from the bed. “Frank, what’s going on? What are we doing here?”

  He gestured toward the small table. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  She didn’t want to sit with him. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw herself at him and claw out his eyes. But she didn’t know his frame of mind, wasn’t sure what he was capable of, and the last thing she wanted to do was make him angry with Macy locked behind a door.

  Cautiously she moved to the table and sat. He sat across from her and smiled once again. “This has been my dream,” he said. “Having you seated across a table from me as we talk about our day.”

  She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. She stared at him blankly. Frank?

  “I know I’ve surprised you with all this, but in time you’ll understand that we were meant to be together, the three of us, as a family.” He leaned back in the chair, his gaze not leaving her. “I still remember the first time I ever laid eyes on you. You probably don’t remember, but Johnny and I were working at the factory and you brought him lunch. You were wearing a light blue blouse and shorts, and I fell in love with you at that very moment.”

  Daniella didn’t know what to say. Words refused to come to her lips, to her brain. She was beyond stunned. Frank had been her right-hand man, the one she depended on to help run the business. He’d been the one who she had counted on to drive Macy to playdates.

  He looked at his watch. “I only have a minute or two for now. I just wanted to let you know that the guests have arrived and are all settled in. I’ve got dinner ready to go. I’ve got everything under control for you, Daniella.”

  His words let her know that they were very close to the bed-and-breakfast. “Where exactly is this place, Frank?”

  He got up from the table. “Nice, isn’t it? It’s going to be our new home. It’s an underground bunker that I built over the years. We’ve got everything we need here to make a happy life.”

  My God, he’d been planning this for years, she thought. “Was it you who attacked me in the bait shack?”

  He frowned. “Stupid of me. I thought maybe I could bring you here then, but then Macy showed up and screamed and I had to get out of there fast.”

  “And you killed Samantha?”

  His frown deepened. “That girl was nothing but a piece of trash. She came out to talk to me, told me she’d pay me double what you were paying if I’d come to work for her in her new bed-and-breakfast. She was trouble and she intended to make trouble for you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  His frown transformed to a smile of delight. “But all’s well that ends well. We’re together now and eventually you’ll love me like I love you.”

  He was crazy. If he thought he could keep her and Macy down here long enough to make them love him, then he was insane. Not only that, he was dangerous. He’d already killed a woman, and even though she was afraid to ask her next question, she had to know.

  “What about Johnny?”

  “He wasn’t the man for you. He didn’t love you like I did. That night he went out to get diapers I met him in the driveway. I told him I was in love with you and he got mad, tried to fire me. I knew I’d never get my dream of being with you unless he was gone. Johnny thought he was big and tough, but I snapped his neck like a twig, then weighed down his body and threw him in the pond. I got in the car and drove it south, left it behind an old abandoned building and then hitched back here.”

  Grief roared through Daniella. She’d known it; she’d known it all along. Johnny hadn’t left her and Macy. He’d been ripped from them by a monster.

  “I’ve got to get back,” Frank said, and started for the door.

  Daniella jumped up from her chair. “Frank, before you go, will you unlock the door so I can be with Macy? She’s afraid, Frank. She needs to be with me.”

  He nodded and walked toward the door that separated the two rooms. As he bent over the padlock and fumbled with his key ring, Daniella wanted to fling herself on his back, slam him over the head, do whatever it took to
destroy him.

  He’d snapped Johnny’s neck like a twig. Frank had a big chest and strong arms, and she feared that if she attacked him without a weapon he’d win. She didn’t want to imagine the consequences.

  Instead she watched as he unlocked the door and turned to face her. “As long as you behave yourself like a good woman should, then I’ll keep this door unlocked. If you give me trouble, I’ll see to it that you and Macy can’t be together until you get into line. There’s food in the refrigerator. I’ll see you tonight.”

  As he left the room Daniella looked into where Macy was sound asleep on top of the pretty pink bedspread that covered the twin bed. How was she going to tell her that the monster had them and this time no princess crown was going to save them?

  Chapter Twelve

  For most of the afternoon Sam had driven the streets of Bachelor Moon, looking for something or somebody who could give him a clue as to what had happened to Daniella and Macy.

  His heart was nothing more than a cold chunk of ice in his chest. He kept in constant contact with Jim, but the lawman had little comfort to give him. No prints had been lifted from the window where the perpetrator had entered. At least at the moment no evidence had been discovered that might solve the crime.

  It was just after dinnertime when Sam pulled back into the driveway of the bed-and-breakfast. Darkness would fall soon, and he couldn’t imagine going through a night of not knowing if Daniella and Macy were still alive.

  Several strangers sat in the chairs on the porch, and Sam nodded as he went into the house. It appeared like business as usual at the bed-and-breakfast except for the fact that the owner and her daughter had been kidnapped.

  Sam found Frank in the kitchen cleaning up after the evening meal. “Nothing?” Frank asked as he turned around from the sink.

  “Nothing,” Sam replied flatly.

  “I told the guests that she had a family emergency and had to leave town for a few days,” Frank said as he plunged his hands into soapy water in the sink. “I figured the littler they knew about what was going on here the better.”

  Sam watched as Frank moved several large knives and a huge bowl into the water. It should have been Daniella standing in front of the sink.

  Maybe everyone had been right about him. Maybe he was so burned out that he was no longer an effective profiler. He couldn’t help but believe he’d missed something, that the answers were right in front of him but he couldn’t see them.

  The worst part was he didn’t know what to do to fix this. He didn’t know where to look for them, and sit ting at the table where he’d spent so many hours with Daniella was a particular form of torture.

  Frank finished with the dishes and put them all away except for a small paring knife he carried to the table. “I figured in about an hour I’ll head home for the night. I told the guests if they needed anything you’d be around. I hope that’s okay.”

  Sam nodded. “I guess I’ll be around. I don’t know where else to go.”

  Frank sank down in the chair opposite Sam. “Jim and his men checked out the property, including my place. When he left here he said he intended to do a house-by-house search in town.”

  “You thinking about stabbing me?” Sam asked as he gestured toward the knife.

  “Nah, this thing is dull. I’m going to take it back to my place and sharpen it. I have a whetstone I use to give everything around here a really sharp edge.” Frank leaned forward. “Jim will find them. Somebody has to find them.”

  Once again a wind of despair whispered through Sam. He’d worked enough cases in his career to know that wasn’t necessarily true. Sometimes people disappeared forever.

  “Have you eaten?” Frank asked. “There’s some leftover roast in the fridge. I could make you a sandwich.”

  “No thanks, Frank. I’m not hungry.” Although he hadn’t eaten all day, his stomach was far too twisted in knots to want any food.

  “I’m going to go check on all the guests and then I guess I’ll call it a night. I’ll be back here around six in the morning to get started on breakfast.” He rose from the table, grabbed the knife and put it in his pocket.

  As he left the room Sam leaned back in his chair and released a deep sigh. He knew from talking to Jim that afternoon that nothing had been found at Matt’s house in town, that Frank’s cottage hadn’t yielded anything, and he himself knew that Jeff wasn’t responsible. So who?

  It had been his experience that often stalkers who left gifts hung around to see the response of the person receiving those gifts. They were embroiled in the life of the person they professed to love.

  Jim had told Sam he’d assigned several deputies to check out the people who made regular deliveries to the bed-and-breakfast. Sam couldn’t fault Jim’s investigation.

  He faulted himself for not seeing this coming, for not thinking that it was possible for somebody to crawl silently through a window and whisk away the two people he loved.

  Love. The alien emotion welled up inside him, bringing new tears to his eyes. He loved Daniella and Macy like he’d never loved before in his life, and the fact that they were in trouble or could already be dead nearly broke him.

  He would have never done anything to follow up on his love for them, but he wanted them safe, here where they belonged. When he went back to Kansas City he needed to know that they were building their happy life here. He had to believe they were still alive.

  He rubbed a hand across his forehead, where a headache was starting to pound. He closed his eyes and allowed everything that had happened over the past two weeks to fly through his head.

  It had all begun with Samantha’s murder. As Jim had said, she’d been killed with an ordinary butcher knife as sharp as a scalpel.

  I have a whetstone I use to give everything around here a really sharp edge. Frank’s words rolled around in Sam’s brain and he snapped his eyes open, headache forgotten.

  That’s what I do, I take care of things for Daniella.

  Was it possible that the culprit had been under their noses all the time? But Jim had checked Frank’s cottage and Daniella and Macy hadn’t been there, a little voice protested.

  But maybe he has them stashed someplace else. Thoughts whirled through Sam’s head at a dizzying speed. That day that Daniella had been attacked in the bait shack Frank had come running from the direction of the pond.

  Was it possible he’d attacked her, then run in that direction only to run back when Macy had screamed? Had he hurried back to make sure that Macy wouldn’t be able to identify him?

  For the first time since he’d left Jeff’s house a burst of adrenaline surged up inside him. He got up from the table and moved to the door of the common room, where Frank was telling several of the guests goodbye for the night.

  Living so close to the main house it would have been easy for Frank to leave the gifts on the porch without being seen. He took care of things for Daniella—things like weeding and cutting brush and killing Samantha.

  Sam’s blood ran cold. It was possible that he was wrong about Frank. But it was also possible that he was right. There was only one way to find out. He had to follow Frank and see if during the night he might lead Sam to wherever he had Daniella and Macy stashed.

  The worst that could happen was that Sam would lose some time, but at the moment time was all he had, time and the burning need to find Daniella and Macy.

  When Frank finally went out the front door to head home, Sam waited a couple of minutes and then stepped out on the porch. He could see the man making his way toward the cottage in the distance, and after another minute Sam followed.

  He moved silently through the grass, trying to use the trees and overgrown brush as cover in case Frank happened to look behind him.

  When Frank disappeared into the small cottage he called his, Sam took up residency behind a nearby large tree trunk. He sank to the ground and stared at the cottage.

  Maybe this was nothing more than a wild-goose chase. But somehow, as he’d put
all the pieces together, all the fingers on the hand of accusation pointed to Frank as a major suspect.

  Frank would have known that the windows in Macy’s room were accessible. Even if Macy had awakened she wouldn’t have screamed at the sight of her buddy Frank in her room.

  It all made a horrifying kind of sense.

  Sam leaned with his head back against the trunk. The only thing he could hope at this point was that Frank would eventually lead him to them.

  He had to believe they were close. Sam looked around the area. Thick woods surrounded Frank’s cottage and extended to someplace unknown to Sam. It was possible there was a shed, a shanty or some other structure where they could be kept on the property or nearby on somebody else’s property.

  Darkness was starting to fall, and Sam felt it in his bones, in his heart. Was Macy someplace in the dark? Afraid of monsters and without her princess crown?

  Sam was a monster chaser, a monster destroyer, and he prayed that he was on the right track here with Frank. He knew more than anyone that monsters could wear a variety of disguises. They could be ex-boyfriends, coworkers or fathers. They could be the neighbor, the preacher’s son or a handyman.

  When darkness came it slammed down and shrouded everything except a small light coming from the front window of the cottage.

  Sam had known grief before. After the traumatic death of his mother he’d grieved long and hard. But he didn’t remember it being as intense, as devastating, as what he felt now.

  He shifted positions, wondering if he’d made yet another mistake, if maybe he was wasting precious time that could be spent elsewhere.

  He wasn’t sure how long he sat behind the tree trunk, his heart filled with thoughts of Daniella and Macy, when the door to Frank’s cottage opened.

  In the spill of light that seeped out on the porch Sam saw Frank leaving the place. Instantly adrenaline pumped through Sam. He crouched, ready to shadow the man, who clicked on a flashlight as he left the porch.

  Where would Frank be going at this time of night with a flashlight in hand? He certainly wasn’t headed back toward the house, but rather deeper into the woods.