Guns and Roses (44 page)

“Police,” he shouted. He rushed in with his weapon at the ready. He cleared the small room and bathroom in less than five seconds. He turned to holster his gun and stopped dead in his tracks. There, on Rebel’s pillow, was Katie Burkhart’s heart pendant with a red fresh Mr. Lincoln rose lying beside it.

“Oh, my
God
!” Rebel said from behind him. “I was next!”

Cash whirled around, furious she had defied him. Again. “I told you to wait until I gave you the all clear, damn it!”

“I was afraid. I felt like someone was watching me. I’m sorry.”

He resisted the urge to comfort her. It would only make her think it was ok to ignore his rules. “Rebel, I’m going to my car for my kit. Can you stay right here without touching a damn thing?”

“I’m going with you.”

She followed him down to the car and Cash about lost it. The trunk was open and the evidence bags he’d been carrying with him all day were gone.

He bent over, swiping his hand across his face and turned to throttle her within an inch of her life. “You left keys the in the car and now my evidence is gone!”

“I’m sorry, Cash. I—you think he’s watching us?” she asked, looking around them.

It was all Cash could do not to strangle her himself! He was a fool to have thought she would listen to him. And because of his incompetence, his evidence was gone! Not only would it make solving this case near impossible, but it could seriously jeopardize his job with the State Bureau of Investigation. Once they got wind of this, he may very well get dropped from their program.

He swiped his hand across his face a second time and glowered down at Rebel. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“I’m sorry, Cash. I was afraid.”

He inhaled deeply and let it out very slowly as he mentally counted to ten, then to twenty. Her safety was as important to him as it was her. For all he knew, the killer who seemed to be one step ahead of them would have killed her to get to the evidence.

“Please don’t hate me, Cash. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“I’m going to take my kit upstairs and collect the pendant and rose. I want you to come with me and look around and let me know if there is anything missing or added or disturbed. Can you do that?”

“Yessuh.”

Less than an hour later, they were sitting at Liddy’s eating a late dinner. Cash didn’t have much to say and Rebel was unusually quiet.

“Did you lock up the evidence?” she quietly asked without looking up at him.

“Don’t you worry about what I did with it.”

Rebel picked at her sandwich while Cash sipped his coffee. He’d lost his appetite. So had she. He knew she felt terrible. But not even close to how terrible he felt. “My phone broke when I was running away. Can I borrow yours to call Mrs. Pontif and ask if I can stay downstairs with her tonight?”

He speared her with a glare. “You aren’t going back to that house tonight.”

“I don’t want to do that, either, Detective Cash, but I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Cash narrowed his eyes at her and sipped his coffee. “I have a spare room.”

Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, and Cash felt his blood light up. He didn’t know what he wanted to do more at that moment, strangle her or kiss her. “It’s not going to be like that, Rebel. So don’t get any notions.”

“I already told you, Detective. I’m not that kind of girl.”

He sat his coffee cup down and leaned into her. “What kind of girl are you then? I mean you’ve made your attraction to me clear. You’ve been bold, in fact. Are you just a prick tease then?”

Rebel stiffened. “There’s no need to get crude.”

“I’m just a little pissed off right now, Rebel. And you’re at the root of all my frustrations at the minute, so I’m not going to apologize for saying what’s on my mind. You certainly don’t.”

“I understand you being all mad. I don’t blame you. But I didn’t do it on purpose, and as far as my flirtatiousness with you goes, I won’t lie and say my boldness is normal for me. It’s not, but I can afford to be bold with you because you have made it perfectly clear you won’t cross whatever line it is you’ve drawn.” She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “So I feel safe in the knowledge that I can say exactly what’s on my mind without fear of having to deliver.” Her smile widened and she batted her eyelashes at him. “Besides, it’s good flirting practice for when I find a man who
does
find me attractive enough and smart enough to consider for a date and who I feel reciprocating feelings for.”

Damn it all to hell if he didn’t want to be that man. He cocked a brow and leaned slightly toward her. “What if I changed my mind?”

The flush in her cheeks deepened, but she leaned as much toward him as he did her. “Well then,” she softy said, her warm breath mingling with his, “I suppose I’d have to give your proposition some serious consideration.”

“There’s nothing for you to consider,” he said sitting back.

She mimicked his move. “You are a true gentleman, Detective.”

“Finish your sandwich. I have work to do.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You said you were.”

“I’m not anymore,” she said, pushing her plate away.

“Hey, Cash,” a familiar voice said. “Miss Rebel.”

Rebel shivered as Sorrel Nelson came shuffling up to their booth. She’d never liked the way his shifty eyes were always darting about. He was in his campus security uniform. She had to admit, it was clean and well pressed.

“On your way to work, Sorrel?” Cash asked.

“Yep, the midnight shift calls.” He waved to Liddy who was bustling behind the counter. “You have any fresh baked donuts tonight, Miss Liddy?”

“I sure do, Sorrel, give me a minute,” she said.

Sorrel leaned a hip against the end of Rebel’s booth seat and said to Cash, “How’d your visit to West Jefferson go?”

“How’d you know I was there?”

Sorrel shrugged and began to unscrew his thermos cup. “I stopped by the PD earlier an’ Sara told me you were gone for the night.”

“Why’d you stop by the PD?” Sorrell scratched his head and reached past Rebel for the coffee pot behind her. His cologne was strong, and she could have sworn she got a whiff of—

“I had some information for you. Not sure if it means anythin’ or not, but it sure seemed kind of queer to me.”

Rebel’s nose twitched. She would swear on a stack of gran’s bibles that Sorry smelled all fragrant like a rose. But that could be because there were single stem roses on each of the tables.

“I’m all ears, Sorrel,” Cash impatiently said.

“Well, I had gone to take some things to my desk an’ on a hunch took a stroll ‘round campus. As I entered the gymnasium, I heard some voices comin’ from the locker room, which is kind of strange on a Sunday, so I went to investigate.”

“And?”

“Well, they were angry voices, sounded like a jealous lover’s spat. Then it got quiet, so I walked ‘round the corner an’ I saw Colette Prebe an’ one of the other coaches kissin’.”

“What’s so queer about that?” Rebel asked.

“It were a girl coach.”

Shaking his head, he filled his thermos cap with coffee and took a sip.

“You’re saying you saw Colette Prebe kissing another woman after you heard them having what sounded like a lover’s spat?” Cash asked for clarification.

Sorrel nodded and took another sip of his coffee. “Yessuh, an’ it got me to thinkin’, maybe it weren’t Drew who killed poor Jami, but his sister. She’s as big an’ strong as a man.”

“What would be her motive?” Rebel asked him before Cash could.

“Maybe she wanted Jami for herself.”

“Do you think she wanted Katie Burkhart, too?” Cash asked.

“Katie who?” Sorrel said.

“The girl who was killed five years ago.”

“I wouldn’t know nothin’ bout that.”

“Really?” Cash drawled.  “Wasn’t that right about the time you came on as a Reserve Officer?”

“Yessuh, but I was goin’ to Conrad Community College full time, an’ didn’t have much time for police work.”

“I hear you. I’ve been working full time here as a detective and going to college full time to boot. It’s exhausting.” Cash took a sip of his coffee. “I started over at Conrad before transferring to night classes at Gilman because the schedule was more flexible with my job. I don’t ever recall seeing you there.”

“Maybe our schedules were opposite?”

“Maybe.”

“Miss Rebel,” Sorrel said, handing her his thermos cap. “Would you mind pouring me anothah cup, so I don’t have to bend over you?”

Rebel nodded and took the cup and smelled that same whiff of rose. She poured the cup of coffee, but before she gave it to him she leaned over and smelled the rose on the table. Barely a scent.

Rebel handed Sorrel the cup of coffee and asked, “Do you know much about Mr. Lincolns, Sorrel?”

“The president?”

“No,” Rebel slowly said, “The type of rose.”

“I don’t know much ‘bout roses, except they’re nice to look at.”

“Did you know that some roses have no fragrance at all while others do, and that each type of rose has its own unique fragrance, just like a girl has her own unique scent?”

He sipped his coffee. “If you say so.”

“For instance, this rose here on the table is a primrose. It has barely any scent at all. You have to put your nose right in it to smell what little it offers.”

“Okay.”

Rebel caught Cash’s questioning stare, indicating he wondered where she was going with this. It was all she could do to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. How coincidental was it that Sorrel smelled like a Mr. Lincoln and the killer just left one on her pillow? Ever so subtly, Rebel inclined her head toward Sorrel, hoping Cash would get it that she was suspicious of him.

“Now those Mr. Lincoln’s they have a bold distinct scent. Some call it Damask. I call it heady musky. You could blindfold me and put a hundred roses under my nose and I’d be able to pick out that one Mr. Lincoln.”

“Well, ain’t that a talent,” he said, setting his cup down. “Would you mind fillin’ this thermos up for me, Miss Rebel? I’m gonna be late for my shift if I don’t get movin’ soon.” Unwaveringly, he held his hand holding the thermos under her nose. She had the urge to grab it and whack him with it, but she didn’t. Cash would have her hide if she were wrong about Sorrel. Even though she knew she wasn’t. Rebel snatched the thermos from him and filled it, then handed it back to him. “Much obliged.” He looked at his watch and then to Cash. “I need to light outta here if I don’t want to get fired.”

“Well, you’d best get on then,” Cash said.

Rebel kicked him hard in the shin. He grunted in pain, but made no move to go after Sorrel.

After Sorrel grabbed a bag of fresh baked donuts, paid his bill, and said goodnight, he exited the diner.

Rebel turned to Cash. “I smelled Mr. Lincoln on his hand! He did it! I know it.”

“Simmer down, Rebel.”

“I don’t know what tipped you off, but you suspect him, too. Even without what I just told you. I could tell by the way you were leading him around with your questions. Add to that the fact he smells like a Mr. Lincoln, you have enough to arrest him.”

Cash shook his head. “The last place I’m going to apprehend a suspected killer is in the middle of a diner. But don’t you worry. I’m going to go after Sorrel my way, on my time.”

Rebel growled frustrated. “You’re gonna keep this close to your chest? After all we’ve been through?”

“I’m not taking any chances with a woman who doesn’t understand a simple command,” Cash said as he stood and threw some bills on the table. “C’mon.”

Five minutes later, Cash pulled up in his driveway, wishing he could lock Rebel up for her own good. Short of that, as he ushered her into his house he said, “Rebel, I want you to swear on your mama’s heart you will not leave my house until I get back. If you won’t swear I’m going to lock you up in the courthouse jail.”

She turned around with her hands on her hips. “What if the Sorrel tries to break in and kill me?”

“Call 9-1-1.”

“You have an extra gun?”

“You know how to shoot one?”

“You’re looking at a bona fide NRA Expert Riflewoman.”

It didn’t surprise him. Nothing about her did. “There’s a .38 in my top dresser drawer. It’s loaded.”

Cash should have felt more anxious leaving Rebel alone in his house with a loaded gun, but he didn’t. Call him crazy, but his gut told him she could handle that thing better than him. Besides, if his hunch was right, she wasn’t going to need it.

He left the house and drove to the PD and went to the main computer on the Chief’s desk. He went back five years and looked up the chain of evidence to see who it was that took the box of evidence to the post office. “Damn it!” No signature. How’d that get overlooked? Or had it been deleted? Who had access to the computer? Everyone in the office; including volunteers like Reserve Officers.