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Authors: Alexa Grace

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BOOK: Profile of Terror
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"I spent most of the night at the crime scene and then the autopsy," Brody replied.

 

"You should have called me to the crime scene when it was first discovered."

 

"We had too many people at that crime scene as it was, putting the forensic evidence in jeopardy," said Brody, annoyed that Lucas felt it was his right to be at a crime scene, even though he was a civilian.

 

"Next time anything like this happens, you call me first," Bradley commanded, his face red and blotchy with anger.

 

"The victim is Destiny Cooke."

 

"The beauty queen?"  Bradley interrupted.  "Shit.  Nothing like taking out the county darling.  What kind of animals did this?"

 

Shrugging, Brody continued, "Where we found her on the veranda of the Morel Hotel is the secondary crime scene.  She was murdered somewhere else, then the killers brought her to the hotel and duct-taped her body to a rocking chair."

 

"Well, the surveillance tape should tell us who did it."

 

"Sure would, if any surveillance cameras existed at the hotel.  But none do.  The owners are spending their money on renovating the building, not security."

 

Lucas shook his head with obvious frustration.  "Well, shit.  What else do you know?"

 

"Just like Abby Reece, Destiny died of asphyxiation when she was smothered inside the plastic bag we found covering her head."

 

Grimacing, Bradley said, "What a way to die."

 

"We think there are two killers.  One secures the plastic bag with duct tape around her neck, while the other one holds her down as she struggles to breathe."

 

"Any prints?"

 

"We got a partial print on the duct tape wound around Abby Reece's neck.  No prints at all in Destiny's case."

 

"Any hits on the partial print?"

 

"Nope, which means at least one of our perps doesn't have a criminal record, making it that much harder to find the bastards."

 

"Speaking of Abby Reece, I heard a rumor that your brother, Gabe, was involved with her."

 

Glaring at him, Brody answered, "My brother was cleared of any involvement with her murder by a detective with the Indiana State Police.  And you knew that before you asked me the question."

 

"You won't hear about either of my sons being involved with a murder investigation.  The brother of the county sheriff shouldn't be either.  It puts a suspicious cloud over the entire department."

 

"That so?"

 

"I have to tell you I am getting a lot of complaints about your performance with the Ryder case.  I mean, the killer was a deputy in your own department.  People are asking me why it took so long for you to catch him."

 

"What do you tell them?"

 

Ignoring his question, Bradley said, "I'm up for re-election next year.  Don't expect me to fall on the sword for you, Brody.  Not going to happen."

 

"I've never asked you to put your neck out for me."

 

"If these killings continue, it's a matter of time until the board asks for your badge."

 

"If the board thinks they can do a better job, they can have my fucking badge."

 

Both tempers at a flashpoint, Brody knew they'd accomplish nothing by continuing the conversation so he changed the subject.  "How are your sons?  I heard one of them got a touchdown at the game last Friday night."

 

"Dev almost won that game single-handedly," Bradley boasted. "He should have no problem getting an athletic scholarship for college."

 

"How's Evan doing?"

 

"He's still holding his own grade-wise.  We're hoping he can snag an academic scholarship."

 

<><><> 

 

Kaitlyn followed Gabe inside the hangar on their property.  The structure was giant and held the sheriff department helicopter, as well as several vehicles.

 

"Who flies the copter?" Kaitlyn asked.

 

"I do, when I'm needed.  All three of us are licensed pilots."

 

"Is there anything you can't do, Mr. Chase?"

 

"I plan on showing you what I
can
do later tonight, Ms. Cat," A broad grin split Gabe's face.

 

Giggling, Kaitlyn pointed to three vehicles parked next to her VW, which they'd hidden here earlier.  "Which of those did your brother say we could use?"

 

"They all have tinted glass, so you can pick.  Which one do you want?"

 

"I like this one.  It's a Mercedes, right?"

 

"Yes, this is the Mercedes SUV GL-550 in steel gray.  Nice choice, Cat."

 

"I always wanted to test-drive a Mercedes SUV.  Not that I'll be buying one anytime soon on a teacher's salary."

 

"Here's the deal," said Gabe.  "I'll drive you to school each morning and pick you up in the afternoon."

 

"Then we'll go to your office, right?"

 

"No.  There is a good chance the killers saw you coming in or out of my office, so we're staying away from it.  I have enough computer equipment to work from home, so that's what I'll do."

 

"Okay, but what if they are watching the school?  They'll see me enter and exit."

 

"We're going to talk to Carly about disguising you.  She's worked a lot of undercover assignments."

 

"Hey, did I hear my name?"  Carly entered the hangar and joined them near the SUV.  "Welcome, Kaitlyn.  I'm so glad you'll be staying here.  I need a little help breaking up all the testosterone on this property."

 

"Hi, Carly.  It is good to see you again," Kaitlyn said, as the two women hugged.

 

"Gabe is right.  I have some ideas on disguising you so the killers will have a hard time determining whether it is you.  Come with me to the Honeymoon Cottage, and I'll show you some of my wigs and makeup tricks."

 

<><><> 

 

Kaitlyn followed Carly up the staircase to the loft, where one of the walls was a floor-to-ceiling window that offered a beautiful view of the trees and lake beyond.  The large bed had an oak, vintage Eastlake headboard with geometrical elements and lightly incised carvings.

 

"That has to be the most beautiful bed I've ever seen," Kaitlyn exclaimed.

 

"It belonged to Dr. and Mrs. Chase," said Carly.  "Did Gabe tell you the story behind the Honeymoon Cottage?"

 

"No." Kaitlyn shook her head.

 

"Dr. Chase built this house as a wedding present to his bride.  They lived here until the main house was built."

 

"That is so romantic."

 

"I agree.  The little touches he added to the house says a lot about how much he loved her."

 

Carly went to a closet and dragged a small trunk to the middle of the room.  Pulling open the lid, she waved for Kaitlyn to join her on the floor as she withdrew some dresses. 

 

"We look to be the same size, so these dresses should fit you.  I was a school teacher in one of the roles I played, so there should be some appropriate clothing for you."

 

Kaitlyn withdrew a long halter dress with sparkling rhinestones on the silky black fabric.  She held it against her. "Why do I have the feeling that this sexy number wasn't used in your school teacher role?"

 

The memory of the last time she wore the dress was not a good one. In fact, she thought she'd destroyed it.  Carly took a deep breath and shook her head.

 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

 

"About what?"

 

"The bad thing that happened the last time you wore this gown," said Kaitlyn softly.

 

"I'm sorry.  It's not something I talk about."

 

"But it still bothers you, right?" she asked.  "We've only known each other for about a minute, but you can trust me.  What's put in the vault, stays there.  I promise."

 

"I was with the Bureau," Carly began.  "We were chasing a very evil man who trafficked people and drugs.  My supervisor found out he had a preference for women with dark hair and eyes like mine.  So I was chosen to go undercover wearing a wire sewn inside this dress.   At his favorite bar, I was to flirt with him, to get him to talk about something that could be used to indict him."

 

"But there's more to the story, isn't there?"

 

"Yes.  My best friend, who was also an agent, went undercover and let the traffickers abduct her.  Amy was wired and her cell had GPS on it, so we always knew where she was and what was going on."

 

"Go on," Kaitlyn gently urged.

 

"One day, she was in the back of a van driven by the traffickers, with three other women.  I was following them at a safe distance, when the driver ran a red light during rush hour and I lost them." 

 

"Is it normal for the FBI to have only one agent on surveillance?"

 

"This was during the time that budget cuts ran rampant."

 

"I see," said Kaitlyn.  "Did you eventually find Amy?"

 

"Yes, I had her on GPS and could track where they were going.  Once I reached the house, I hid the car and listened.  They'd discovered Amy was wired.  There was a lot of yelling.  I called for backup and received direct orders not to move until additional agents arrived.  I waited and waited and no one arrived."  The thought made Carly's throat ache with regret.  If only she hadn't followed orders and waited for backup.  If only
 . . .

 

"Oh, no. What happened to Amy?"

 

"I heard a blood-curdling scream and her cries for help.  I could hear the other women in the room crying hysterically."

 

"I had one handgun in my holster, and grabbed another from the glove box of my car that I shoved in my boot.  I ran as fast as I could.  When I reached the house, the women were being loaded into the van.  I waited until the vehicle left, and then I stormed the house through the back door.  But I was too late.  Amy was dead.  The traffickers made an example of her to keep the other women terrified and obedient.  They'd beheaded her."

 

"Oh, God, Carly.  I'm so sorry."

 

Carly wiped across her face with the back of her hand, surprised to feel the wet tears streaming down her cheeks.  Revealing this to Kaitlyn had freed a lot of memories Carly had tried to lock away.  She'd never forgotten what happened to Amy.  Recurring nightmares made sure of that.

 

"I heard a sound at the back of the house and withdrew my gun from my holster.  They'd sent a man back to clean up.  He pulled a knife on me and I shot him, killing him instantly.  After an internal investigation, I was ordered to see a battery of shrinks.  I soon left the Bureau."  She paused for a second, and then added, "I never had a chance to wear the gown because the leader of the traffickers disappeared, but every time I see it, I remember the day I lost my best friend."

BOOK: Profile of Terror
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