Damn. Her confidence melted with each of his glances. On red alert, Kerry too, eyed every driver who passed by. It didn’t matter no one paid attention to them. Her anxiety refused to go away.
They’d driven about fifteen minutes in silence when he reached across the seat and touched her hand. “You going to be okay?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” She didn’t need to let him know how scared she was. He’d probably insist she stay away from work, which she’d refused to do.
More than ever, Kerry was determined to identify these women—even if it was the last thing she did.
“It’s okay to be afraid, you know. Actually, it’s a good thing. It keeps you on your toes. Keeps you smart.”
The man was a mind reader. Talk about scary. She turned her head toward the side window so he wouldn’t see the tear trickle down her cheek.
Five minutes later, Hunter pulled into his sister’s drive, and cut the engine. “Come on.”
“I can stay out here. Are you going to be long?”
“No, but there’s no telling who’s out there.”
Kerry swiped her cheek dry. She twisted around and checked the back seat. The precious child was sound asleep.
“Do you think Melissa is safe at your sister’s?”
“Jen’s husband is with the Special Forces. He’s on leave for the next month and promised he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.”
He opened the back door of the cruiser and picked up his sleeping daughter as Kerry grabbed Melissa’s small suitcase. His daughter snuggled in Hunter’s arms. Kerry was going to miss the energetic little girl.
Before Hunter’s finger reached the bell, Jen pulled open the door. Worry lined her face. Her gaze shot to Kerry and smiled.
The resemblance between Hunter and his sister was remarkable. Both were tall with a golden skin tone. Each had an athletic build, though Hunter was all muscle and Jen’s weight was more evenly distributed.
“You must be Kerry. Come in.”
For the first time in days, Kerry relaxed.
Kerry decided Cade’s cabin and the surrounding acreage was probably beautiful, but in the dark, the moss hanging from the trees looked like evil fingers reaching out to grab her. The area gave her the creeps, but she didn’t want to make Hunter’s life more miserable by complaining.
Thank goodness he’d parked in front of the house and not by the large barn that sat off to the side. A bare bulb glared from the top of the large wooden structure, casting spooky shadows on the building.
“What’s in there?” she asked, pointing to the barn. Kerry climbed out of the front seat not letting her gaze wander from the mystery building. She had no idea why she needed to know, but the old place reminded her of Halloween—not the candy part, but the bad part.
“Cade is an old car buff. He restores classics.”
“Oh.”
Not evil at all. The dark must be making her mind imagine all sorts of things. Rather strange for a person who digs up bones for a living. She should be used to creepy things. Kerry inhaled deeply to help her relax. The air was sweet with jasmine, along with a hint of pine.
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she studied the large lake that bordered the property. The half moon glinted off the water and a few well-lit homes winked in the darkness far across the lake.
Hunter said nothing more as he carried his suitcase and one of hers into the house. She followed, lugging the other case.
Once inside, cool air met her. The relief of being out of sight helped calm her.
Hunter pointed to the small galley style kitchen they passed as they entered the cozy living room. “Cade told me he stocked the kitchen already. He made an extra trip up this evening and bought more food. Remind me to buy him a good bottle of scotch.”
“That was very generous of him, especially since you only called him a few hours ago.”
“That’s Cade for you. He’s the most proactive person I know.”
Kerry put her suitcase on the scuffed wooden living room floor and looked around. The furniture was old but functional. One plaid couch, two leather chairs, a coffee table and two bookcases, filled to the brim with books, took up the entire living room. A small television was perched on top of a metal stand.
“You can stay in Cade’s sister’s room. I’ll take Cade’s room.”
“I don’t care if I have to sleep on the floor. Right now, I’m having a hard time standing.”
“Come on. I’ll show you where you can put your things. You can freshen up first if you want. There’s only one bathroom.”
One bathroom? Yikes. That might put a bit of a strain on their relationship.
Phil leaned back in his office chair and glanced over at Gina talking to Janet Hill, a vice squad detective. He had to hand it to her. During the first three weeks of her internship, Gina hadn’t once mentioned she wanted to quit. He admired her spunk. However, she had yet to be exposed to the nasty side of death.
Harold Reismann, a gawky new recruit, dropped a folder on Phil’s desk. “Lab results from the tool mark found at the gravesite just arrived.”
“Oh yeah? What does it say?”
“I dunno. Boss just asked me to deliver it.”
“You didn’t peek?” Harold already had proven himself to be the department snoop. “You know the case has earned quite a lot press. It isn’t every day we have a possible serial killer on the loose.”
“I know.” Red rushed up his face. “Okay, I did look, but only a little. The report mentioned something about a shovel, but that didn’t seem very earth shattering.”
Gina was convinced the long, smooth mark on the side of #1’s grave belonged to a shovel owned by Willie Wyble. Not that she’d seen Wyble anywhere near a shovel, but her gut told her he’d dug the grave. She wasn’t willing to go so far as to claim he’d killed anybody. She liked him for some reason. It was the whole cheer for the underdog thing, she’d said.
Phil grabbed the envelope from his desk, undid the clasp and read the report. Apparently, the shovel used to dig the grave had a bent corner. Other than that, it had no distinguishing marks. No brands were listed. It sounded like a dead end to him.
“Does it help?” Harold asked, as he shifted his weight from side to side and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Doubt it.” Phil skipped to the next page. “Oh, here we go. They processed a belt loop I found near #3’s grave.”
“Do you think it belonged to the killer?” The guy’s voice rose half an octave.
“No telling. It came from a pair of Wrangler Jeans though.”
“Oh. So nothing real good.”
“Nope.”
Pimply-faced Harold dragged back to the hole he’d come from just as Gina walked over. Phil had been angry about the babysitting job at first, but she was proving herself rather astute. Not to mention hot.
“What’s up?” she asked, leaning a hip on his desk. Her skirt rode up on her thigh.
He’d reached his limit. She was a siren determined to get him in bed, but Phil was no dummy. Sleep with Gina—lose his job. He tugged on her skirt, but the fabric didn’t budge.
“Hey.” She swatted his hand away and leaned over. “You sure you want to go there?” One eyebrow lifted. “Taking my clothes off in public, Detective Tedesco, can be quite dangerous.”
“I was doing quite the opposite.”
Her sly smile almost made him forget about the shovel and the belt loop. “You are incorrigible.”
As he was about to toss back a comment, Phil glanced up at the sound of pounding feet. “Ah, Gina. I think there’s someone’s here to see you.”
Gina’s uncle slipped around some desks and barreled right up to her. Jack Andries tapped her shoulder. Gina turned around and lost the color in her face. She was on her feet in a flash.
“It’s not what you think,” she blurted out.
Jack’s lips curled downward. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I need to speak to Phil. Alone.”
17
Jack Andries faced Phil, his neck muscles straining. “We found Willie Wyble with a bullet in his head. I want you to be principal on this one.”
Oh shit. “Tell me what you have.”
“The cemetery owner, Jeff Lamont, found the body under some trees. I don’t have any other details”.
“Thanks, Captain.”