Shattered Souls (7 page)

Jason dragged in a deep breath. His fingers drummed over his lips. “Sam heard the message.”

A brief nod. “Must have thought I’d been involved.”

“Not as the killer, I hope?” His lips curled in a stiff smile.

She lifted her shoulders. “There was so much blood. He came to my apartment and dragged me out of bed. Must have checked my clothes and bed first. He knew I couldn’t have been there.”

“But you don’t really know.”

“Not for sure.”

“How was he killed?”

“That’s the tricky part. You’re gonna have to take a leap of faith here, same as Sam did.”

Jason’s eyes sharpened. “This gonna be one of your ‘special’ cases?”

“Yeah.” Cait sighed. “Henry wasn’t in the room when we arrived. But his blood was all over it. There was a handprint in the mirror. The forensics guys from the bureau’s lab took it back to process. But something happened in the lab. Looked like an explosion went off. The mirror was shattered, and Henry’s body was there—in little bits.”

Jason’s brows furrowed together. “You know more than you’re telling me?”

“It’s all you need to know right now. When I’ve got something that makes sense, I’ll fill you in on the rest. In the meantime, it looks like our two cases might be related.” She held up the key. “Let’s hit the girl’s apartment and kill two birds with one stone.”

Sam stood behind a tech running a print from the lone digit Cait had found through the FBI’s fingerprint ID system.

“Got anything yet?”

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Leland. “Not yet. DNA testing will take awhile, but we’re hoping to get a hit on the fingerprint. If it’s Henry’s, we’re gonna work on the assumption that the rest of the body parts are his.”

“You get hold of any of his buddies in Vero Beach?”

Sam nodded. “I contacted the local police and had them canvass his neighbors. He was working a case. A missing person. They didn’t know the name, but I’m hoping something will pop up while the team’s looking through his belongings. We already found a cell phone. Jimmy’s calling everyone he contacted within the last couple of days.”

“You have someone looking at recent missing persons reports?”

“On it already,” Sam said, stifling the urge to bite back because Leland was checking after him like he was a rookie.

Leland clapped Sam’s shoulder. “Good work. What’s Cait working on?”

The one thick brow Leland lifted had Sam tightening. “We’re going to meet tonight, compare notes. This hit her hard. She knew Henry better than anybody. Her dad and Henry were tight. She’s known him since she was a kid.”

“Better keep her close.”

Sam nodded, irritated at yet another reminder of Cait’s uneven track record. He still needed to make that trip to her apartment.

“Got a hit,” the tech said, sliding away from the screen.

Leland and Sam leaned close. Sam’s stomach took a slow dive south. He’d known what they’d find, but he’d still held out some hope.

“Well, we got our answer,” Leland muttered. “Now if we could just get an explanation for how Henry’s body ended up frozen and looking like ground meat, we might get some sleep tonight.”

“Might be hard to explain to the DA’s office.”

“Just figure out something that won’t get us plastered on the front page of the
National Enquirer
.”

So Leland had an inkling something supernatural had occurred. Sam wondered what had swayed him—the odd conflagration of clues left in the hotel room or the shattered body? Sam cleared his throat. “Cait and I will find out what really happened, then we’ll figure out how to spin the story.”

Leland rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn shame. He was a good cop. He didn’t deserve this. Shoulda been kickin’ back, drinkin’ beer on his front porch.”

Sam sighed. “Yeah, well, the only way we can make this right is to find the bastard who did this. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“I want this closed. Want it wrapped up tight. No leaks to the media.”

He couldn’t agree more. “I’ll make sure my guys know to keep it close. But you’ll have to take care of the lab rats and the uniformed patrolmen who were the first responders.”

“I’ll handle that end. Keep me in the loop, hear?”

“Really want to know everything?”

Shaking his head, Leland grimaced. “Just anything that might make the evening news.”

Chapter Seven

“Can I get you the usual?”

Pauly, the bartender, was already reaching for her favorite scotch. So damn easy just to let him follow through, but Cait cleared her throat. “Just a Coke.”

A shaggy eyebrow rose. “You takin’ the pledge?”

She snorted. “As if. I’m on the job.”

“Damn, there goes tonight’s take.”

Inwardly grimacing, she chuckled and walked away. Cait breathed deeply, inhaling the familiar and comforting scents of O’Malley’s: alcohol, perfume, and cologne intermixed with wood polish and Pine-Sol. This had been her father’s pub—not that they’d ever shared a drink here. Patrick O’Connell had died in the line of duty when she was twelve. She could imagine his spirit here and hoped he was one of the many voices blending amiably into white noise.

Still, being in O’Malley’s nursing a Coke was a lot like wearing a hair shirt. Morin might have cured the physical craving, but she still wanted a kick in her drink.

Jason sat at their regular booth, a shot of whiskey in front of him.

Cait eyed her own glass and sighed as she took her seat. “We should hit it early tomorrow morning. We don’t have much to go on so far,” she muttered.

A blond brow arched. “Early morning?”

Cait gave him an “eat shit” glare and then ignored his smirk.

They’d combed through Lisa Farmington’s apartment, looking for clues. Cait had kept the girl’s planner, which contained her schedule and address book. Come morning, she’d start making her own calls to everyone in the book living locally.

“What about the list?” Jason asked, holding the folded scrap of paper that contained five names, apparently all members of one family. The list was short and headed by the name Jonas Worthen with “Edgemont” scrawled at an angle beside it. Four female names set off by hash marks followed Jonas’s name.

“It probably doesn’t mean a thing, but we can check the phone book tomorrow and call every Worthen we find.”

He gave her a tired smile. “You know the start of any investigation is wide open until we get that first hit. We should probably check Worthens near Edgemont Cemetery first.”

“It’s as good a lead as any, I suppose,” she replied.

Jason stuffed the list in his shirt pocket. “Might not be anything at all, but we’ll follow it until it goes cold.” He lifted his glass and drained it. “I better head home. I might get on the Internet tonight and see what I dig up.”

Cait took another sip of her drink and made a face. She’d wait until the bar closed, but she’d kick Sam’s ass if he didn’t show tonight. She was itchy being here without a scotch to soothe away the rough edges. At least with him here, she’d have something else to think about—like how the new lines etched on his stony face only made him that much sexier.

Jason slid across his seat to go, and then his eyes widened. His lips thinned as though he were trying to hide a smile. “We got company.”

Cait glanced over her shoulder to find Sam striding toward them. His tie was askew, jacket gone, his shirtsleeves rolled up his thick forearms. His expression was dark and moody. Cait’s body thrilled to the challenge.

Sam halted beside their table. “Scoot over, Cait.”

“No please?” she asked sweetly but moved, giving Jason a quick glare because his smile was widening as he settled back in his seat, in no hurry to leave now.

Sam lifted her glass and took a sip, holding her gaze all the while.

“Just Coke,” she drawled. “Want me to order you something stronger?”

“I’m not thirsty. You fill Jason in?”

Cait nodded. “Yeah, although we got a little sidetracked today.” She kicked Jason under the table to make sure he didn’t share just what they were working on. She wanted to string out this encounter as long as possible. Holding back, even for a few minutes, would irritate the crap out of Sam.

Why she wanted to get on every last one of his nerves she wasn’t sure. Playing with Sam was like teasing a hungry bear. She could only expect to be mauled. And perhaps that was the point.

Sam’s cheeks billowed as he released a deep breath and slumped in the seat beside her. “Henry was here working a missing person case. We narrowed the possibilities down to two recent reports of missing girls, both in their early twenties. We’re trying to contact the parents now to find out who might have hired him.” Sam glanced sideways, his expression losing its grumpy edge and softening. “Cait, we got a match on the fingerprint from the body in the lab. It’s definitely Henry’s.”

Cait gave a quick nod, then sniffed and straightened her shoulders. Didn’t matter really that Henry had ended up looking like something passed through a meat grinder. Dead was dead.

Jason’s foot smashed down on her toes, and he glared across the table.

Cait angled her body toward Sam and cleared her throat. “Henry came to look into the disappearance of Lisa Farmington. That’s one of your girls, right? Her parents showed up in our office today. Henry had given them my name.”

Sam blinked, and then his gaze ripped into her. “And you couldn’t have called me today to let me know? I’ve had a whole team trying to figure out what he was working on.”

Cait shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Dammit.” Sam slipped a hand into his pants pocket. “I’ll be right back. Have to call the guys and let them know so they don’t have to stay at it all night.” He slid from the booth and stalked away.

Jason leaned across the table. “Why didn’t you call him?”

Her gaze wouldn’t meet his. “I needed a break. I spent the whole morning with him manhandling me and making demands.”

“Manhandling?”

“He dragged me out of bed and tossed me into a cold shower.”

His eyebrows rose and hazel eyes sparkled. “Think I’ll head on home. I don’t want to get in the middle of the fireworks.”

“Think there’ll be some?” she murmured, feeling heat creep across her cheeks.

“You didn’t see his face when he was walking toward the table.” Jason slid to the end of the bench and stood. Then he leaned down and kissed her cheek.

She jerked back and scowled. “What was that for?”

“He’s still watching,” he whispered, sauntering past.

Cait didn’t dare glance behind her to watch the two men’s exchange. She sipped her Coke, wishing it was something stronger, something that would anesthetize her emotions, because she was in deep trouble. No one turned her on like Sam.

The kiss they’d shared outside the station house had fueled her imagination all day long. Her body had come alive. Even now, her heart thudded against her chest. Her belly tightened, heat ripening her core. Her nipples beaded, poking against the scratchy lace of her bra.

Get a grip, Cait!
Tonight she knew she was destined for disappointment. She would spend hours tossing and turning restlessly because too many thoughts swirled in her head—about Henry and the Farmington girl, about Sam’s reappearance in her life. But mostly, she’d lose sleep because she’d be thinking about sex—with Sam—reliving the old days and wishing for the thousandth time she’d done things differently.

“Let’s get out of here.”

She jerked and then glanced up at Sam standing beside her. His expression was shuttered, his eyes cold. Had he seen Jason kiss her? Or was he still angry because she hadn’t called earlier to tell him she had a lead?

Deciding now wasn’t the time to press for an answer, she followed him out of the bar. Rain was beginning to fall, and she scrunched her nose as she peered up into the dark sky. “I can catch the trolley home, you know. I won’t melt.”

“I’ll drop you off.”

His tone left no room for argument, so she caved, ungraciously. She grunted and walked ahead of him out onto the street. He’d parked his car close to the entrance. She waited while he hit the automatic unlock before sliding into the passenger seat. The drive to her building, a long row of connected, one-story apartments, was made in silence. She cast wary glances his way, but each time she did, his jaw flexed.

A sure sign he was angry.

Well, she wasn’t a mouse. And anger was better than disinterest. When he pulled into the parking lot, she flipped the door latch and climbed out, throwing a casual “G’night” over her shoulder and walking briskly to her door.

The parking brake grated. A car door slammed behind her.

She grinned, careful to wipe her face clear of amusement as she unlocked her apartment door. Before she could push it open, a hand reached past her and shoved it wide. Another hand slid around her waist and forced her over the threshold.

Shrugging away from his hold, she pretended to resist. The door slammed behind her, and before she could face him, his wet body crowded hers against the wall of the foyer, hands gripping her wrists and gliding them upward.

“Gonna pat me down?” she gasped, wishing those hands were caressing her.