Cold Truth (22 page)

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Authors: Mariah Stewart

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Cold Truth
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She wanted blinds built, he built blinds. Not one or two or three, but an entire series of them, strategically placed throughout the acres that made up the sanctuary. She’d hooked him up with a contractor who’d offered to help build the structures, and he gladly gave up his weekends to labor on something that pleased her so much.

“You’re amazing,” she’d said once, after having climbed the ladder to one of the blinds. “I can’t believe you did this. How many have you built now? Four? Five? Simply amazing. I can’t thank you enough.”

Sure you can,
he remembered thinking at the time.
I know how you can thank me. We both know how. And we both know you want to.

Love and lust had mixed inside him, a heady brew. She must have felt it, too. No one could feel that way about someone who didn’t feel the same about him. Of that he was certain. The feeling was way too big. It dominated everything in his life. She had to know. She had to feel exactly the same about him. It wouldn’t have been fair otherwise.

And wasn’t it meant to be? After all, the offense his father had wanted to punish him for, well, that hadn’t been much of anything, right? No one was hurt, right? No harm, no foul.

It wasn’t as if he’d actually touched that girl.

He stood beneath the blind and jumped up to grab the under-support beams, then hoisted himself up to the floored area. Leaning over the railing, he gazed out at the deepening shadows. It had been so many years since he’d stood in this spot, this very spot, where he’d listened to her talk about the bird counts they were doing down in Cape May.

“Thousands upon thousands of songbirds and seabirds, can you imagine what that looks like, thousands of birds feeding on the shore?” She’d shaken her head, and that black ponytail had swung seductively. “I’m thinking about taking a van of kids down next year. If you’re home from school, maybe you’d like to go.”

He’d nodded.
Sure. Sure, I’ll go . . . I’ll go anywhere with you.

But of course, he hadn’t. Oh, he’d come home from school in May, but there was no trip to Cape May for Jenny that year. Or any year after.

“You brought it on yourself, Jenny.”

He said the words aloud, certain she heard him.

His thoughts turned to Cass. She had ruined things for him once again. First with Jenny, then with the other one.

He sighed deeply. She was going to have to be punished. Maybe if he wiped her out, it would be all right, like wiping a slate clean.

He found the image of wiping the slate clean with Jenny’s daughter’s blood highly appealing.

Maybe then he could find the one he’d been searching for and they could be together for always. She wouldn’t try to run from him, and he wouldn’t have to hurt her.

Well, he was just going to have to take care of it, once and for all.

He reached up to a low-hanging tree branch and snapped it off.

Snap. Just like that.

T
wenty-two

“Annie.” Rick stood on the single brick step that passed for a porch at the Bowers Inlet Municipal Building. “Want to catch some dinner?”

Halfway to her car, Annie turned to him. “Thanks, but I’m on my way up to the Landry farm. Mitch wanted me to look over the reports he’s been receiving over the past few days. Apparently a lot has come out of the woodwork. I want to see what he’s got before I have to head back to Virginia.”

“When do you get to see that fiancé of yours?” He was smiling as he walked toward her.

She smiled back. “We manage. He’s a detective. We both know the routine.”

“Think you can build a life around schedules like the ones you two have?”

“We’re going to do our best.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“We haven’t set a date yet. I’m thinking maybe around the holidays. Neither of us wants to put it off too much longer.” She juggled her car keys, and they clanged softly against each other as she tossed the key ring from one hand to the other and back again.

“Sure hope I’m on the guest list.” He grinned. “I have my heart set on catching that bouquet.”

She laughed. “You catch the bouquet, you gotta back it up, Cisco. Is there something I don’t know about? Last I heard, you hadn’t had a real date since Livy Bach slammed the door in your face one night after . . .”

“Ouch.” He winced at the reference to a relationship with a fellow agent, one that never got off the ground. “That’s cold, McCall. Really cold.”

“Your luck,” she said as she unlocked her car door. “Livy’s not your type.”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Livy is the quintessential party girl. You need a rock, my friend. Livy’s a doll and more fun than just about anyone I know, but she has heartbreak written all over her. Not only for you, for anyone who tries to get too close. There are walls there I’m afraid no one can climb.”

“Well, thanks for the analysis, Dr. McCall.”

“I call ’em as I see ’em.” She slid behind the wheel of her car. “I love Livy dearly, but she has a lot of problems, Rick. A lot of baggage. She’s not what you need.”

“I am not going to bite, I swear I’m not.” He slammed her door for her, then stood back while she rolled the window down. “I’m not going to ask what you think is my type or what you think I need. The last thing I want right now is to have you—”

“Hey, Cass.” Annie waved to Cassie as she walked toward them. “Are you feeling all right?”

“A little tired, but I’m fine. Thank you.” Cass stopped next to Rick and leaned in the window slightly. “I don’t think I thanked you for . . . well, for working with me. It sounds silly to say thanks for hypnotizing me, but I’m so grateful to you for doing that.”

“You must feel a lot of conflict, though.” Annie watched Cass’s face closely.

“In what way?” Cass stood up and took a step back from the car.

“All these years, you’ve thought you had closure, for your parents’ death and that of your sister. For the attack on you. Now that door is wide open again. It has to make you uneasy, at the very least.”

Cass nodded. “A little. I never thought about that aspect of it, you know? Wayne Fulmer was in prison, he’d never get out. Justice had been served. Though, truthfully, when you’re a child and you’ve lost everyone and everything, justice is merely a concept, one that has very little meaning.”

“I understand.” Annie opened her handbag and took out her wallet. She handed Cass a card. “All of my numbers are listed here. If you ever want to talk, please, call me. Any time, day or night. And if you feel you want or need someone locally to talk to, I’ll be more than happy to help you find someone. As a matter of fact, an old friend from grad school has a practice near Red Bank—that’s not too far from here, right? I’m sure she’d love to speak with you, if you feel you want to do that.”

“Thank you. I might call you, if you’re sure . . .”

“I’m positive.” Annie turned the key in the ignition. “Don’t forget. Any time.”

She glanced up at Rick as she put the car in reverse. “I’ll see you soon. We’ll call you later tonight if we feel we have something that might shed some light on your case.”

Rick nodded and slapped lightly at the fender as Annie pulled away.

“She’s really nice,” Cass said as she waved good-bye.

He nodded. “Annie is one of a kind. She’s the best at what she does, and she’s a terrific person, to boot. Everyone is so happy for her, the way things have worked out.”

“What things?”

“You might have noticed the ring on her finger?”

“How could I not?” Cass grinned. “It’s quite a rock.”

“Annie’s engaged to a great guy. Detective in Pennsylvania; we’re all trying to get him to come to the Bureau. He’s perfect for her.” Rick watched Annie’s car turn onto the main road and disappear at the stop sign.

“That’s nice, that her friends all like him. I’m happy for her, that she found someone so nice.”

“It’s more than Evan being a nice guy.” He started walking toward his car, and Cass fell in step with him. “Annie had been engaged a few years ago, to a guy I went through the Academy with. Dylan Shields was the best in our class. Just a super, super guy in every respect.”

“What happened? Did he break off the engagement?”

“He was killed on a job a few years ago,” Rick said simply.

“Oh, my God, that’s terrible. Poor Annie. No wonder her friends are happy that she found someone.”

“Happy for her, certainly, but truth be told, we’re all—all of us guys who work with her,” he smiled as he unlocked the car doors and they both got in, “we’re jealous as hell of Evan. We’re all just a little bit in love with Annie.”

“I can see that.” Cass smiled, too. “And I can see why. She’s beautiful and smart and there’s something about her . . . a real gentleness, I guess I’d call it.”

He nodded. “You hit it right on the head. That’s exactly it. I couldn’t have said it better myself. She’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met, and yes, one of the smartest as well, but she has this gentle side to her. She’s been a good friend. And I guess that’s why we all love her.”

Lucky Annie,
Cass was thinking as Rick backed out of the parking space. What, she wondered, would it be like to have not one, but a whole passel of hunky FBI men in love with you?

And she was certain they were all hunky, if the others in his unit were anything like Rick. In her mind they were. A whole entire crew of great-looking men was so much more fun to imagine than solemn-looking men in dark suits wearing the requisite dark glasses—though it occurred to her that Rick did look pretty hot in his shades.

The thought of all those great-looking guys lined up made her smile.

The smile faded a bit when she realized this had been the first light thought she’d had in . . . she couldn’t remember when. When had she last wanted to smile, or laugh, or make a joke? The events of the past two weeks clearly had not presented many opportunities for humor.

“Cass.”

“What?”

“I said, what would you like to do now?” He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “It’s almost six. Dinnertime for most folks.”

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to stop at the hospital to see how Lucy’s doing, but beyond that, we need to know if she thinks she’s ready to meet with the sketch artist. Lucy is the only person who’s been face-to-face with this guy and lived to tell about it. The sooner we can get a sketch, the better. Especially now that it appears this might be someone who could be easily recognized by people in town.”

“Say the word, and I’ll have the Bureau’s best up here in a flash.”

“Lucy will tell me if she’s up to it. She seemed to be making progress yesterday. I can’t imagine they’ll make her stay too much longer.”

“We may want to stretch out that hospital stay, if for no other reason than to keep her under lock and key. Denver’s had the guard at her door twenty-four/seven, but once she leaves there, it’s going to be harder to keep an eye on her. I don’t know that the cops in the town where she lives would be willing or able to put her under constant surveillance. We could ask for someone from the Bureau, though.”

“I can’t believe the rat-bastard husband of hers is actually going to take her home with him. Or that she’ll go.”

“What makes him a rat bastard? Other than the fact that he looks a little shifty.”

“You caught that? And you don’t even know him.” She leaned back into her seat, a satisfied smile on her lips. “Of course, if she goes home, she’ll get to see her kids, and that’s going to be really important to her. I’m sure he’ll take her to see the boys. They’re away at sports camp.”

“I did sports camps when I was a kid. Of course, we didn’t have what kids today have. Not just the variety to choose from, but the opportunity to learn from professional athletes was never an option for us. Today, these kids can go to football camp or basketball camp or softball camp and actually get pointers from some of the best in the business.”

“Lucy’s boys are at a camp where they do two weeks each of several different sports, and they
do
have pro athletes come in to work with the kids. I know she’s said they’re having a ball. They don’t want to come home.”

“Do they know about the attack on her?”

“No. She didn’t want them told. She figures she’s better off telling them when she sees them. She’ll still be bruised, but at least they’ll be able to see that she’s okay.” Her voice dropped a bit. “It will be important for them to see that she’s okay . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Rick reached over and took her left hand in his.

“This has been a rough day for you. You’ve held up remarkably well. If there’s anything you want to do, or anyplace you want to go . . .”

“Just to the hospital.” She made no effort to pull her hand away. That small bit of closeness seemed to offer reassurance, and made her feel, for the first time in a very long time, that she was not alone. It was part of his job to set her at ease, she knew. She’d played the same role—that of comforter—to others many times in the past. Still, his touch was soothing, and she was grateful for it.

They drove in silence for the remaining four blocks to the hospital. Rick parked in the garage and started to open his car door, when his cell phone rang.

“Mitch,” he answered the call, “what do you have for us?”

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Cass whispered as she got out of the car.

“Wait a minute . . . wait for me. Mitch, hold for a second . . .”

“I won’t be long. I just want to see her, see how she’s feeling. You don’t have to come. Look, there are guards everywhere. I’ll be fine.” She was off before he could loosen his seat belt.

Rick watched her through the rearview mirror, as she disappeared into the stairwell.

He got out of the car and followed her while listening to Mitch’s rundown of victims they’d found from across the country and across the years that matched the MO of the Bayside Strangler.

“Any DNA testing results available?” he asked as he opened the stairwell door and climbed the single flight of steps from parking level B to the lobby.

“How many matches?” He walked into the lobby and crossed to the elevator.

“Are you serious? And no one’s put this together . . . oh, of course, right. You’re right . . .” Rick punched the button for the sixth floor. “So we have a whole long string of offenses that match perfectly, a good number of DNA matches, but no description of this guy.” He shook his head. “He must be incredibly good or incredibly lucky—maybe both—to have kept it going all these years without being seen.”

Rick stepped off the elevator and walked to Lucy’s door, where he nodded to the police officer who’d been assigned the afternoon shift, then leaned back against the door frame and lowered his voice to continue the conversation. From Lucy’s bedside, Cass looked over her shoulder. She locked eyes with Rick for a moment before turning back to her cousin.

“Can you follow up with those?” Rick asked. “Sure. I can be there in the morning. One thing I should mention, though. I’ll be bringing Cass along with me . . . yeah, well, what did Annie tell you?” He glanced into the hospital room as he listened. His gaze fell on Lucy’s husband, David, who sat on an uncomfortable-looking orange plastic chair, his arms folded over his chest. His every effort to join in the conversation between Lucy and Cass having been ignored, he now pretended to ignore them.

“Give me some quick directions . . .” Rick kept his eyes on the scene unfolding in the room. Lucy was wiping her eyes, while Cass appeared to be speaking softly, something comforting, he was sure. How could the woman do that, he wondered, after the afternoon she’d had? Surely, looking back on that horrific day, even from a deep hypnotic state, must have taken a toll on her emotions. He’d figured she was tough, but he hadn’t known she was
that
tough.

“Give me that again,” he was saying, when Cass turned and looked at him. She stood and rested a hand on Lucy’s cheek, then walked toward Rick.

“Anytime.” She mouthed the word, so as to not disturb his conversation.

“Was that a right or a left off Route One?” He indicated to Cass that he could talk and walk to the elevator at the same time. Once inside the car, however, his phone went dead.

“Damn,” he muttered, “I was almost there.”

“Almost where?” Cass asked.

“Almost to Plainsville.”

“What’s there?”

“A meeting I—we—have tomorrow morning. I’ll tell you about it outside,” he told her, as the elevator car filled when they reached the third floor. “In the meantime, would you like to go straight to the Inn for dinner? Or is there something else you’d rather do?”

“As much as I’d love a walk on the beach, I think I’d like to go back to the Inn.” She followed him out of the elevator when it stopped at the lobby. “And you can fill me in on this meeting.”

He took her arm and steered her in the direction of the parking garage. Neither of them noticed that of the seven people who stepped out of the elevator after they did, one trailed behind them, all the way to level B.

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