Ripped in Red (11 page)

19

M
ary Jones checked into a motel in the next town and cursed The Dragon. She immediately repented. She couldn’t stay mad at the man who gave her back her purpose in life.

She tossed her suitcases in the corner and threw herself across the bed. How had the cops found out about her? Draco had promised there was no way to be discovered. It had to be because of her hateful sisters. They were at the root of all her problems.

Well, no more. She laughed, the sound manic in the small room. They couldn’t create problems for anyone anymore.

She glanced at the water-stained ceiling. What did she do now? She had no others on her list. Most people were kind, if not sympathetic to Mary’s plainness. It wasn’t her fault she had mousy hair and mud-colored eyes. Nor was it her fault she’d struggled with being overweight her entire life. Her mother had been attractive, her father handsome. It was nothing more than the luck of the draw.

Sighing, she pounded the mattress and dug her cell phone out of her purse. “What do I do now?” she asked the moment he answered. “I have no other purpose.”

“Find one.” Draco’s deep voice resonated over the air waves. “But we don’t kill those who don’t deserve it. You must remember that. Find a new identity for yourself. All the information you need is in the packet I gave you at the first meeting. Our time of working together is complete.”

“No.” Her heart beat in her throat. “I want to continue helping you. Tell me what to do. Please.”

“Find your purpose again, Mary.” Click.

She grinned, knowing exactly what she would do. Something that would make her Draco’s favorite.

~

Rosie seemed to suffer no ill effects from being tazed, much to Cassidy’s relief. She sat on the porch of Allison’s house, her arm around the dog, and waited while Ingram and the crime scene investigators prepared her and her family to be moved.

A navy Toyota Camry pulled into the driveway. A harried man shoved open his door and, leaving it hanging open, bounded up the porch steps, not sparing Cassidy a glance. Mr. Carson, she presumed.

Colin met the man at the door, saying something to him in a low, soothing voice. Her partner would be a wonder in hostage negotiations. He had a way about him that put the most anxious person at ease. Except for her. The deep rumble of his voice sent her senses into overdrive instead of soothing them.

Since The Dragon seemed to be mirroring Cassidy’s steps, Ingram had asked her and Colin to take the Carsons to the safe house and leave the rest of the investigation to the FBI. The order raised the hackles on the back of her neck. This was her case! It was personal. The last thing she wanted was to be hidden away in some mountain cabin with a guard watching her every move.

“But, my job. Our life,” Mr. Carson argued. “We can’t leave it. This killer isn’t after us or he would have harmed my wife and son.”

“Sir, it’s only until he’s caught. It’s a precaution. Think of your family.”

Cassidy turned her head as Colin placed a consoling hand on the man’s shoulder. She pushed to her feet. “The killer wants me, Mr. Carson. Rest assured we’ll do everything in our power to keep us all safe.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Yet, you’re the officer going with us, right?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve been ordered to hide the same as you.” She motioned for Rosie to follow and pushed into the house. She approached Ingram. “I’d like permission to go to my home and pack a few things.”

“Smith and MacKenzie, take Monroe to her place. Be back in an hour. We’re wasting daylight.” He gave Cassidy a nod and marched to the kitchen where Allison packed a box with food. “Ma’am we only have so much room in the jeep.”

“My babies have to eat.”

Cassidy smiled and joined her bodyguards outside. An hour later, a few changes of clothing, toiletries, her mother’s journal and her case notes, and Cassidy sat in the idling jeep while FBI agents she had yet to meet loaded her vehicle with everything a family thought they couldn’t live without. When the jeep was full, they loaded the family’s silver mini-van. She shook her head. A lot of baggage to cart up the mountain.

“This is ridiculous,” Colin said, getting into the driver’s seat. “That woman doesn’t want to leave anything behind.”

“She wants her family comfortable.” Which would be a lot more than she and Colin would be. The two bedroom safehouse left the two of them sleeping on the floor in the front room in much too close proximity to each other. Still, the family would provide a safe buffer between the tension radiating between her and her partner no matter how much they tried to pretend as if nothing was happening between them.

“It bothers me that Ingram is removing us from the case, so to speak.” Colin backed out of the drive. “We were beginning to make headway.”

“I agree. If one of us had to go into hiding, it should have been me, leaving you to continue the investigation.”

“No way.” He frowned. “Where you go, I go. It’s been that way since day one.” He took her hand. “I’d go crazy not knowing how you were or whether Blake was getting close.”

His words warmed her to the bone. “I appreciate the thought, but I trust you to help me more than anyone else.”

He grinned. “I don’t intend to stop investigating completely. I’ll just be doing it through cyber space. Everyone leaves a trail. We just have to find Blake’s.”

“Don’t forget Mary.”

He chuckled. “How could I forget our crazy Plain Jane? No, I’ll be searching for her right along with her leader.”

“Why do you think none of his other followers have come forth? He has to have them. Why else have an armload of jackets? Do you think he’s working with them one-by-one? Other than Mary, we’ve only met the one posing as a photographer and nothing on him since.” Nothing about this case was easy. It was one for the history books. They could have saved so much time if her mother would have mentioned her attacker’s name in her journal.

Why hadn’t she? Why keep it a secret? Had her mother had a personal vendetta against Blake that led to a showdown she lost? So many questions, so few answers.

“What do you think about Ingram sending the Carsons to the safehouse?” she asked. “If Blake had wanted to harm them, he had the opportunity. At least with the little boy.”

“Allison is a good-looking woman. I don’t think Ingram wants to take any chances. Maybe Blake has a few morals and doesn’t harm children. But, if he wanted to go after their mother…well, you know what it’s like to have your mother murdered.”

She did. Her later teen years had been ones full of difficulty, pity, and rebellion. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone. “I still don’t like being sent away.”

“We’ll manage.” He squeezed her hand and pulled free as he turned the jeep down a side road that didn’t look as if anyone had driven there in a long time.

Weeds covered the dirt road, hiding the ruts. The jeep bounced over one hole after another until Cassidy thought her teeth would break from clacking together. She breathed a sigh of relief when they pulled in front of the rustic cabin. “Home sweet home for however long we’re destined to stay.” She opened her door, then Rosie’s. “Check it out, girl.”

The dog bounded away, nose to the ground as Cassidy turned to survey their surroundings. Thick trees and underbrush provided plenty of places for a person to hide. Someone should have kept the place up a bit more. It might prove to be more of a danger than a safe place.

She scanned the tree line. The sun barely cut through the thick branches overhead. Several trees hung low over the cedar roofed cabin. There’d be no fires until they were trimmed back. It was a good thing it was summer and not winter. “I’ll head inside and open the windows to air the place out,” she told Colin as the mini-van pulled behind the jeep.

She marched to the front door and pushed it open with a loud squeak. Two mice darted across the floor, leaving tracks in the thick dust on the floor. At least she’d keep busy cleaning.

Who was she kidding? She didn’t want to clean. She wanted to hunt down and confront her murderous father.

20

C
assidy and Allison had the cabin liveable by nightfall. Then, boredom quickly set in. While Colin worked his magic on the internet, Cassidy set her mother’s caseboard up in the cabin’s dining space. She hoped that by taking everything down and putting everything back up, she’d discover something she might have previously missed.

“What is that?” Bill Carson stood next to her, arms crossed.

“A case board on a cold case related to the one we’re working on now.” She leaned against a small wooden table and stared at the board.

“These photos look old.” He peered closer at the ones saved by Cassidy’s mother. “Is the killer here?”

Cassidy pointed him out. “We have no idea where he is now.”

“That’s Blake Russell. I went to high school with him.”

“What?!” She whirled, sloshing hot coffee on her hand. She hissed and wiped it on the leg of her jeans.

“Yeah. He comes from a rather influential family, at least for this area. A bit of a spoiled brat, smart, and athletic. Leader of the popular group. Last I heard, he’d made a bundle of money for himself in real estate.”

She couldn’t believe their luck. “You wouldn’t happen to know the name of his company, would you? He’s changed his name since you knew him. He goes by Russell Ball.”

“Wyvern Incorporated.”

Of course. Cassidy clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you.” Maybe being locked up with the Carsons wouldn’t be so bad after all. She headed to the living room where Colin sat hunched over his laptop. “Look up Wyvern Incorporated. Bill said it’s Blake’s corporate name.”

“Wyvern as in dragon? How dense could we be?”

“In our defense, I didn’t expect him to be a wealthy owner of anything.”

Colin’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “The company was sold for five million dollars last year.” He leaned back on the sofa. “Another dead end.”

“No.” She sagged next to him. “He planned this. He built up the business, sold it, and started creating havoc.”

“He has the money to lay low for a while, too.” He started typing again. A few minutes later, he groaned. “Most of his funds are in an off-shore account.”

“Of course, they are.” They were never going to catch him. Not usually given to self-pity, Cassidy blinked back tears. She’d been sad and cried at her mother’s death, devastated for months, but these were tears of frustration and helplessness. Sometimes, when the day seemed darkest, she almost turned to the God her mother believed in.

Colin put his arms around her and pulled her close. “Please don’t cry. Don’t give up on me, sweetheart.” His thick brogue smoothed the edges of her pain.

She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. If only she could stay there. If only she were worthy of having a career and love. But, she wasn’t. It took everything she had to do her job the way she thought it needed doing and in one fell swoop, Blake Russell took that all away. Now, even if she felt there was room in her life for romance, she couldn’t foist her bloodline on anyone. Most of all any possible future children.

Squeezing her eyes tight, tears trickled down her cheeks. Enough pity. She swiped the tears away and sat up. “What’s our next move?”

~

“We pass on any information we have to Ingram.” Colin felt an immediate loss when she pulled away. At least she was no longer treating him as if he were going to attack her or give her some fatal disease. It seemed as if she’s chosen to pass off their…misunderstanding and continue as friends, if not close partners. He’d take what he could get. There was plenty of time for more in the future. “At least we’ve gone a few days without another death.” She pushed to her feet and spread a sleeping bag on the floor. “I’m bushed, Colin. I’m going to sleep.”

He nodded. “I’ll take first watch and wake you in four hours.”

While she settled in the close area between the sofa and the wall, Rosie curled up next to her and the rest of the cabin’s occupants headed to their prospective rooms. The Carson’s youngest wailed in protest at going to bed but settled down within minutes. Soon, soft snores drifted from Cassidy’s makeshift bed.

He shifted in his seat so he could see her in the light of the laptop monitor. Shadows flickered across her face. Long lashes rested on soft cheeks. Lips, begging to be kissed, parted slightly in sleep. Her beauty did things to him that no other woman had ever done. Not only her outward appearance, but the beauty within. Her strength and determination. Still, he saw her vulnerability and knew he’d die protecting her if it came to that.

A board creaked overhead. Bill Carson most likely paced the floor in his own attempts to protect his family. Moments later the man joined him downstairs.

“You should sleep, Mr. Carson.” Colin closed his laptop to prevent the man from seeing confidential information.

“I can’t. Not when there is a madman out there who might want to harm my wife.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Agent Ingram let me bring my pistol. I haven’t fired the thing in years.”

“Can you shoot another person?” A lot of people couldn’t.

“If it means them or my family, I won’t hesitate.” He pulled up one of the four straight-back kitchen chairs and swung it around, straddling it and resting his folded arms on the back. “I hope it doesn’t come to violence.”

“We’ll do our best to keep it away from you.” Colin glanced at Cassidy. “It’s her he wants, not your wife. If he were to go after your wife, it would be to get to the detective.”

“It upsets me to think the FBI would put my family in more danger by sending the detective with us.” The corners of his mouth turned down.

“She’s good at what she does. If we’re wrong, and the unsub has targeted your wife for a reason known only to him, Detective Monroe is an asset you want on your side.”

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it, won’t I?”

Colin understood the man’s anger. He felt his own. “You should get some sleep.”

The man smiled. “I know a dismissal when I hear one. Good night, Detective.” Bill replaced the chair and headed back up the stairs.

Colin watched him leave then opened up his laptop. He needed to find the one needle in the haystack that would give them the upper hand in a case quickly growing out of control.

“Don’t blame him for being angry,” Cassidy mumbled from the floor. “I’m angry, too. None of us asked for this.”

He nudged her gently with his foot. “I don’t. Go back to sleep. I’m sorry we woke you.”

He eyed the backpack next to the front door. His prescription sleep aids were in there. While he hated to take one, he wondered whether having a nightmare in a houseful of strangers might be worse.

~

Mary backed down the rough dirt road and onto the highway. Cackling, she parked on the shoulder and dialed Draco. “I know where she’s hiding,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“I thought you were going to disappear and start over.”

“I want to help you. Without you, I’m nothing.” Why couldn’t he see that? Start over? He’d given her a new life, a new purpose. Why would she want to be anywhere else?

Silence screamed from the other end of conversation.

“Draco?”

“When I give you a direct order, Mary, I expect you to follow it. Do not engage Detective Monroe. I will deal with her myself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” She understood perfectly. He wanted something done with the detective and the fact she still walked the earth meant he didn’t know what to do about her. Mary could read between the lines better than most people. She understood the need for secrecy. “I’ll do as you say.” Click.

She drummed her hands on the steering wheel in a beat of celebration. When she did what needed to be done, Draco would love her above all others.

~

Imbecile! She was going to ruin everything.

Draco leaned back in his leather chair. What to do about Mary? She was going to ruin everything.

He needed to give her a job to do. One that would get her captured, or better yet, killed. If that didn’t work, he’d have to dispose of her himself. Poor Mary. He saw the look of longing in her eyes. She was so desperate for love she’d take even a disfigured man such as himself. Perhaps there really was someone for everyone in this world. If only she weren’t so…annoying, and a little more attractive. He would never desire a pretty person again. Not after having discovered the ugliness inside them. Still, he wanted someone that he could stomach looking at over the table at mealtime. Perhaps, he was a bit of a hypocrite.

Pushing to his feet, he crossed the small amount of space in the cramped apartment and stared out the window at the mini-mart across the street. He could have rented a much nicer place, but a dump like this one would be the last place the authorities would suspect. Living in the seedy side of town had its benefits and after putting a bullet between the eyes of a young gang member without batting an eye, the locals left him alone.

Draco needed a distraction. He shoved his arms into the sleeves of his leather jacket and headed outside. Even he could buy companionship with the right amount of money. He had ten tons of stress bottled up inside of him and desperately needed a release.

He scoured the streets looking for a woman with a bit of class. So many of them were skanky or shied away when they saw him coming. Unfortunately, the shooting of the gang member had made so many of the women afraid of him.

Keeping the good side of his face to them, he approached a group where a young woman of about eighteen smiled shyly up at him. He didn’t recognize her. While sweet, she wasn’t beautiful in the typical sense and wore tight jeans and a shirt that didn’t show every one of her assets. Just the type of girl to wile away a few hours.

“Are you eighteen, and can you stomach this for a hundred dollars?” He showed her his scar.

Her eyes widened. “As long as you don’t do that to me, I can.”

“I like your style, young lady.” He crooked his arm. “Two hours company is all I desire. Do you prefer red or white wine?”

“Pink champagne.” She batted her lashes.

He laughed. “Then pink champagne it shall be.” He bowed to the other prostitutes. “She’ll be back in a little while, safe and sound.”

After stopping at a liquor store on the corner and keeping his face turned from security cameras, he purchased the best pink champagne the store carried and escorted his little friend back to his apartment.

“Have a seat, darling. There’s a change of clothes on the table. What is your name?”

“What do you want my name to be?”

“Maureen.” He grinned. “You wouldn’t happen to have red hair under that black wig, would you?”

She giggled and yanked off the wig. Strawberry blond curls tumbled to her shoulders.

It might not be the same shade as the woman he’d once idolized, nor was Little Maureen anywhere close in the beauty department, but if Draco turned off the lights, he could pretend they were anyone in the world.

He filled a bowl with ice, shoved the bottle of champagne inside and then lit a candle. “Let’s get this party started.”

“Can you kiss with your lips all twisted like that?” Little Maureen twisted a curl around her finger. “What happened to you?”

“An evil woman took a knife to me.” He sat next to her on the sofa. “If you don’t want to suffer the same fate she did, you’ll stop asking questions.” His blood boiled, and he fisted his hands to keep from striking her.