First Born (31 page)

Aw hell.
“Just...stay there. Please.” Her breathing had quieted, but her face remained wet with tears. She was as still as a statue, except for a slight tilting of her head as she studied him with her intense eyes. They burned into him.

“Seth would never intentionally hurt someone.”

“It was a stupid move,” he said.

“I know. He wasn’t himself.” She looked away as if ashamed.

“I want to help you Lily. Can...can you get down off of there; you’re giving me a heart attack.”

She met his eyes, her lips pressed tight.

Caldwell returned the stare. His eyes took everything in: the short blonde hair, her smooth uninjured skin, and her muscular legs. Then he noticed her feet. They were misshapen, like...claws. He looked back at her pretty face and pretended he hadn’t noticed. “You need to trust me, Lil— Ms. Moore.”

Something in her eyes flashed. “I thought I could trust you.” Her face dropped.

“You can.” He meant it, but doubt clutched at him.
What am I doing?
People were dying and he was standing on the balcony trying to catch a cornered, unpredictable woman,
creature
.

As if she sensed the change in him, the doubt, an ugly net he was extending, she turned her body sideways to look out again into the sky.

He was losing her. He decided to grab her.

Her eyes flashed again. Something struck his chin and he saw stars. That was the last thing he remembered.

Caldwell leaned against the door frame of Tiny’s office. Tiny reclined in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk talking to KPD’s crime scene investigator over the phone. They were going round and round about tire tracks. When Tiny hung up, Caldwell felt someone behind him.

He watched as Tiny dropped his feet from his desk while attempting to sit up straighter in his chair. “May I help you?”

Caldwell turned around and came face-to-face with Georgia Bureau of Investigation Agent, Rebecca Scott. He recognized her. They had worked briefly on a homicide ten months ago that involved two juveniles. It had been an ugly case. Of course, what homicide case wasn’t ugly? “Agent Scott?”

“Detective Simms. How are you?”

“Okay. You heading up to see the lieutenant?”

“Of course. Looks like we get to put our heads together about this Moore family,” she said. She wore her dark hair pulled back, revealing a Slavic heritage in the bone structure of her face and the shape of her eyes. Her blue shirt matched her eyes. She wore dark slacks over legs that went on and on and on. Caldwell knew Tiny would notice.

“I’m Rebecca Scott,” she said stepping into Tiny’s office.

“Tiny.”

“Pardon me?”

Tiny hopped down from the chair. She was wearing sensible low-heeled shoes, but Tiny still came to her bust line.

“My name is Tiny.”

“Oh. I’ve spoken to you on the phone, briefly.”

Tiny just stood there staring at her. Caldwell cleared his throat.

Scott raised her eyebrows.

“Uh, I’m going up to see the Boss man, now. I’ll walk with you,” Tiny said.

“Very good,” she said with a smile.

“Did you see the
Lord of the Rings
movie?”

“Honestly, I fell asleep,” she said.

“Oh no. Well I was in it.” He led her down the hallway. “I was a hobbit extra.”

“That’s funny I don’t remember seeing any black hobbits.”

“Well, I’ve never seen any good-looking GBI agents, but it doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

Caldwell rolled his eyes up in his head as he followed behind them.

In any other situation, he would be glad for the input from the GBI, but he didn’t want Scott’s nose in the Moore family business. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t be objective. He had been so relieved to see Lily Moore alive last night, but then the guilt kicked in. He should have told Lake about her visit, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Caldwell didn’t want to believe that she had hurt anyone.
Had she?
His thoughts continued to circle back to the sight of her strange feet and his stomach churned.

He grabbed a Coke from the machine in the breakroom. Katie Quinn would be arriving shortly for questioning. He needed to have a clear head.

Caldwell felt clammy under the lieutenant’s intense scrutiny. The lieutenant could read him like his mother could. “What happened to your chin?” he asked, scowling.

“Tree branch got me when I was jogging,” Caldwell said. He was working hard to keep up with Lake who was plowing down the hall. Lake stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t lie to me, Simms. I know all your tells,” Lake said. He shook his head then continued to the observation room to look through the glass. Caldwell came up next to him. He couldn’t tell Lake that he caught a toe nail/claw in the chin.

They studied Katie Quinn, Seth Moore’s girlfriend. She was in a different interview room than the one they had used to question Mr. Moore five days ago. Maintenance still needed to patch the wall from the Seth Moore incident. The thought made Caldwell’s stitches itch.

A jeweled clip secured Miss Quinn’s swept-up golden blonde hair. Her pink blouse clung to ample breasts. Her amber eyes looked worried and she bit her plump bottom lip as she fidgeted with an amethyst pendant. It didn’t surprise Caldwell that Seth’s girl was a looker.

Lake wrinkled his nose as he studied the pretty woman on the other side of the glass. “You think she’s involved in this shit?”

Caldwell just sighed. “Let’s find out.”

“Hi, Miss Quinn, I’m Detective Simms and this is Lieutenant Lake. We’ve spoken over the phone, but it’s nice to meet in person.”

She nodded.

After they recorded the preliminary identifying information, Caldwell leaned across the table toward her in a conspiratorial fashion, “I know this is difficult. Lily Moore is your best friend and you were close to her brother as well. We are just reviewing details; trying to find any gaps in the info we have so far.”

Lake pulled his chair in closer, drawing Quinn’s attention to him. “So have you heard anything from the Moores since Seth’s stunt the other day?” Caldwell glanced at him sideways.
So much for easing into things.

“I don’t know what you mean by stunt—”

“This,” Lake said, pointing to Caldwell’s head.

Quinn’s mouth hung open.

“Assaulting an officer, Miss Quinn.”

She swallowed.

“Your boyfriend assaulted my detective, so you might want to reconsider protecting him in any way,” Lake said.

Okay not the approach I was going for, but you’re the boss.

“I spoke to Seth on the phone the day before his meeting with you,” she said, looking back down at the table.

“How would you describe your relationship with Seth?” Caldwell asked.

Quinn began to smile then seemed to catch herself. “We’ve been dating for a couple of months.”

Caldwell scanned her face. There wasn’t a glint of doubt in her eyes that Seth Moore was innocent.

“You see any changes in his behavior recently?” asked Lake.

“Of course.”

Caldwell leaned in.

“He’s sick about his sister, as am I,” she said.

Lake nodded. “Was Seth taking any particular medications that you were aware of?”

“No.”

“Do you know if he used any medications or drugs in the past?” asked Caldwell.

She manipulated her pendant. “Seth was not a drug user. I hardly ever saw him drink.”

“No anti-depressants after his father’s death?” Lake asked.

“Oh, now he did mention that he took something for a while to address panic attacks.”

“Inderal?” Caldwell asked.

“I don’t remember the name of the medication. I’m sorry.” Her brow furrowed like something just struck home.

Caldwell nodded. “Do you know a woman by the name of Tashi?”

“Tashi?”

“Seth’s been exchanging emails and phone calls with a woman named Tashi,” Caldwell explained. They knew from Larry Jones that the Shih Tzu’s name was Tashi, but he wanted to see Quinn’s reaction.

Katie’s eyes narrowed. “He’s never mentioned anyone by that name.” He could see by her confused expression that they had blind-sided her.

“I know you care about Seth,” Lake said. “But sometimes people have several sides to them. There may be a side that you don’t know. Think very carefully about any emotional outbursts or odd behavior you may have noted in him.”

“I don’t understand. Seth was a pussy cat.”

Caldwell snuck a glance at the lieutenant.

“What do you mean by pussy cat?” Lake asked.

She looked at him, curiously. “Gentle.”

“You ever see a big, white cat hanging around?” Lake asked.

“What?”

“White cat, two different colored ears, bobbed tail,” barked Lake, his own ears red.

Quinn’s brows drew down in confusion.

Lake continued to stare at her.

“Seth rescues a lot of cats. I’ve seen black ones, grey ones, white ones. In fact, he spoke with me the day after Mr. Liu went missing. He had been up late at the vet rescuing a pregnant cat.”

“Which vet?” Caldwell asked. He started to feel light-headed again and he knew it wasn’t the pea green walls of the eight by ten foot room.

She hesitated. “Some vet up in Marietta.”

“A name would be helpful,” Caldwell said, softening his voice, attempting to calm her.

She looked at her hands in her lap and worried her bottom lip again. “Dr. Gladwell? Something like that.”

“He mention that he had been in contact with his sister?”

“No. He mentioned how worried he was about her.”

Lake tapped his pen in a staccato rhythm on the table while staring at her. “How long have you known the Moores?”

“Since grade school.” She lifted her chin as if to challenge Lake. “I’ve been praying that Lily’s alive. We’ve lost touch a bit since Pete’s death, but we’ve been best friends. She spent a lot of time with my family during the summers, especially after her parent’s divorce.”

“You haven’t heard a thing from either of them?”

“No. Seth hasn’t answered any phone calls, texts, or emails. I even tried calling his mom, but she’s been in China—something about her mother being ill.” A tear escaped the corner of her eye. She brushed it away with her hand.

“We’ve talked about Dr. Hitomi—”

“Yeah, she’s crazy.”

Caldwell held his tongue. “What about Li Liu. Did either of them talk about him?”

“Neither of them had talked about him for some time. But then Seth mentioned that he had contacted him to sort some things out about his father’s death.”

Lake shut the folder in front of him. Quinn sat up in her chair, “Are we finished?”

“For now,” Lake grumbled. “You need to notify us if either of them makes contact with you. They’re in great danger. Keep in mind that aiding and abetting is a major criminal offense,” he added as he escorted her out.

Her face flushed red and her lips pressed tight, but she didn’t respond.

When the elevator doors closed, Caldwell turned to Lake. “That GBI agent making you cranky?”

“Quinn’s gotta have some inkling of where they may hole up. Check back with her later and see if you can pick her brain.” Caldwell followed behind him.

“You all right?” Caldwell asked.

“No, Simms, I’m edgy,” he said glaring. “Too many secrets. People protecting people because they have feelings for them.”

“Okay—”

“I don’t want to find another dead body. I’m worried it’s gonna be Li or one of the Moores.”

Caldwell burped up his breakfast burrito.

“I’ll see if I can track down the vet. You follow up on our other leads,” Lake said. His gray shirt was already wrinkled. “I gotta go see what the hell Tiny told Agent Scott. I feel like I just left Red Riding Hood with the wolf.”

Caldwell chuckled. He was
pretty
sure he meant Scott was the wolf, which left Tiny as Red Riding Hood.

Caldwell had left early around 4:00 p.m. after putting a call in to Sax Ad Agency where Quinn worked. He had planned to catch Katie Quinn off-guard at her condo in Buckhead. She wasn’t home, but her retired neighbor was. They spoke for a while about the Quinn family. She let him know that they went to Sedona every year at this time and she mentioned a cabin in Helen.

That was the spark Caldwell needed. He searched properties under the Quinn name. He hadn’t turned up anything. Then he looked at the marriage certificate and found the stepmother’s maiden name, Hughes.

Several hours later, he paced back and forth in his small living room thinking about the paper work that he found on the Hughes’s cabin. At 8:30 p.m. he dressed in all black, climbed into his blue Ford Explorer and headed north on Highway 19. His Journey CD blared from the speakers as he drove fifteen miles over the speed limit. He worked his Juicy Fruit gum until his jaw ached and caught himself singing off-key to “Don’t Stop Believin’.”

He sweet-talked his GPS, but she still got him lost in the dark. One and a half hours later, he stopped at a Shell gas station to confirm with a local the country road that he needed. On Alternate 75, he passed Hootenany Hills Drive.

After going back and forth several times, he eventually figured out Horton Creek was the road with the sign that read “Pat’s Place.”

He turned off his radio and drove with his parking lights on, attempting to read the addresses. Several times, he caught himself singing the banjo music from
Deliverance,
particularly when he flashed his lights and they illuminated ancient dilapidated school buses stranded in an overgrown lot.

When he came to a fork of two driveways, he stopped while the engine idled. He needed to do the rest on foot. Backing up about five houses, he drove on to the side of a grassy strip next to a high, chain-link fence. It looked like people had parked here before. Once he was satisfied he was far enough off the road, he turned off the engine.

His heart pounded rapidly as the all too familiar rush of adrenaline hit him. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. It was pitch black out his window. He pulled on his hat before exiting the vehicle.