Scene of the Crime Read online

  He gave her a curt nod and then left the room. Jordon locked the door behind him. There was no dead bolt, only the simple lock in the doorknob. Apparently security had never been a real issue before the murders. She was vaguely surprised dead bolts hadn’t been installed since then.

  She sank down on the chair next to the fireplace, her thoughts consumed by the man who had just taken his bedroom eyes and his heady woodsy scent with him.

  She had no idea how well they were going to work together. She wasn’t sure yet how open he was to hearing anything she might have to say about the cases. But the bottom line was she had a job to do and she would do her best with or without his cooperation.

  She pulled herself up off the chair and opened one of the suitcases on the bed. It took her only minutes to unpack and then place her toiletries in the bathroom.

  She set up her laptop computer on the small coffee table in front of the fireplace and for the next half hour typed in notes and impressions while things were still fresh in her mind.

  By the time she finished, she was still too wound up even to think about going to sleep. She should just pull her nightgown on and go to bed, but she had a feeling she would just stare at the dark ceiling while sleep remained elusive.

  Although the idea of going outside in the cold night air was abhorrent, she pulled on her coat and snow boots with the intention of retrieving one of the flavored coffees that tasted like dessert from the guest shed.

  The path to the shed was lit by small solar lights in the ground, and despite the frosty air, she kept her coat open and her hand on the butt of her gun. The night was soundless, the eerie quiet that thick snow cover always brought.

  All of her senses went on high alert. There was no way she intended to be careless on her first night or any other night she stayed here.

  A faint scent of pine lingered in the air and she noticed through the bare trees that the main building was dark. She was all alone on the Diamond Cove grounds.

  When she reached the guest shed and stepped inside, a light blinked on and the bell tinkled overhead. She made sure the door was closed firmly behind her and then checked behind the door that hid the washer and dryer to make sure nobody was hiding there. She then moved to the storage room. With her gun in her hand, she threw open the door and breathed a small sigh of relief.

  Assured that she was alone, she picked out a chocolate-flavored coffee, placed it in the coffee machine and then faced the door as she waited for the foam cup to fill.

  This was what poor Rick Sanders had done. He’d come in here seeking a nice cup of hot chocolate and instead had ended up stabbed viciously in the back.

  When the coffeemaker whooshed the last of the liquid into the foam cup, she turned and grabbed it and went back out into the quiet of the night.

  She was halfway to her cabin when the center of her back began to burn and she had the wild sense that somebody was watching her.

  She whirled around, her sudden movement sloshing hot coffee onto her hand as she gripped the butt of her gun with the other. Nobody. There was nobody on the path behind her.

  There was no sound, no sign of anyone sharing the night with her. She hurried the rest of the way to her room, unlocked her door and went back inside. She set her coffee on the low table in front of the fireplace and then moved the curtain at the window aside to peer out.

  Despite the fact that she saw nothing to cause her concern, she couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody had been out there, somebody who had been watching her...waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

  * * *

  GABRIEL WAS UP before dawn, his thoughts shooting a hundred different directions and making any further sleep impossible. He got out of bed, pulled a thick black robe around him and then padded into the kitchen to make coffee.

  As it began to brew he took a quick shower, dressed for the day and then sank down at the kitchen table with a cup of hot coffee before him.

  He should be thinking about murder. He should be thinking about the interviews he’d set up for the day, but instead his head was filled with questions about the long-legged, green-eyed woman who had blown into his case...into his town on a gust of cold air.

  Could she accomplish what he hadn’t been able to do? Could she somehow identify the killer, who had remained elusive so far to him, and get him behind bars? If she could, then it would be worth whatever he had to put up with to work with her.

  All he wanted was to get this murderer off his streets. He’d never dreamed when he’d left the Chicago Police Department behind three years ago to take this job that he’d be dealing with a serial killer in the town known as America’s family destination.

  He’d also never imagined he’d be working for a mayor who was contentious and petulant, a man who was also a pompous ass and passive-aggressive. It was no wonder the last chief of police had quit after only less than a year on the job. More than once throughout the past three years Gabriel had considered walking away from here and starting over someplace else.

  Once again his thoughts went to Jordon. There was no question that he found her extremely attractive. He even admired the fact that she’d called him out on the jabs he’d shot at her. But that didn’t mean he was going to like her and it certainly didn’t mean he was going to work well with her.

  She already had one strike against her. He hadn’t approved of her decision to stay at Diamond Cove. She’d known he didn’t like it and yet she’d done it anyway. She was placing herself in the eye of a storm, and as far as he was concerned, it was an unnecessary, foolish risk.

  By the time he finished two cups of coffee and his scattered musings, the morning sun had peeked up over the horizon and it was almost six thirty.

  He made a call to arrange for a patrol car to be taken to the bed-and-breakfast for Jordon to use and then pulled on his coat to head out.

  It was going to be a long day. Diamond Cove employed four people full-time and he’d arranged for all of them to be interviewed today along with a few others away from the bed-and-breakfast, as well.

  As he got into his car he swallowed a sigh of frustration. Everyone they would be interviewing about the latest murder were people he’d interviewed at least twice before with the first two homicides.

  He was desperate for some new information that might lead to an arrest, but he really wasn’t expecting to get any that day.

  Thankfully, the road crews had handled the snowfall well and the streets had been cleared for both the locals and the tourists who braved the winter weather for a vacation.

  There was another snowstorm forecast for early next week. Jordon better enjoy the next few days of sunshine because, according to the weather report, the approaching snowstorm was going to be a bad one.

  Maybe they’d get lucky and solve the case before the storm hit. She could keep her date with the Florida beach and he could get back to dealing with the usual crimes that always occurred in a tourist town.

  He arrived at the bed-and-breakfast at ten till seven and parked next to the patrol car that Jordon would use. He retrieved the keys from under the floor mat and then headed to the dining room.

  Jordon was already seated at a table and he didn’t like the way his adrenaline jumped up a bit at the sight of her. Once again she was dressed in the black slacks that hugged every curve and a white, tailored blouse—the unofficial uniform of FBI agents everywhere.

  “Good morning,” she said. Her eyes were bright and she exuded the energy of somebody who had slept well and was eager to face a new day.

  “Morning,” he replied. He took off his coat and slung it over the back of a chair and then got himself a cup of coffee and sat across from her. The scent of fresh spring flowers wafted from her.

  “Are you a morning person, Chief Walters?” she asked.

  He looked at her in surprise. “I’ve n
ever thought about it before. Why?”

  “My ex-husband wasn’t a morning person and he found my cheerful morning chatter particularly irritating. If you need me to keep quiet until you’ve had a couple of cups of coffee, that’s information I need to know.”

  “How long have you been divorced?” he asked curiously.

  “Three years. What about you? Married? Divorced? In a relationship?”

  “Single,” he replied, although he’d always thought that by the time he reached thirty-five years old he’d be happily married with a couple of children. That birthday had passed two months ago and there was no special woman in his life, let alone any children.

  “Here are the keys to a patrol car you can use while you’re here.” He slid the keys across the table.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it,” she replied.

  “Good morning, Chief,” Joan said as she came into the room carrying two plates. “We heard you come in and I figured you were both ready for some breakfast.”

  “Oh my gosh, this is too pretty to eat,” Jordon said as she gazed at the huge waffle topped with plump strawberries and a generous dollop of whipped cream.

  “Speak for yourself,” Gabriel replied as he grabbed one of the pitchers of warm syrup from the center of the table. “As far as I’m concerned, Joan makes the best waffles in town.”

  “Appreciate it, Chief,” Joan replied with a smile of pleasure. She poured herself a cup of coffee and then joined them at the table. Within minutes Ted also appeared to drink coffee while Gabriel and Jordon ate their meal.

  For the next half hour the conversation remained light and pleasant. Ted and Joan told Jordon about the various shows and attractions offered at the many theaters and establishments along the main drag.

  “If you have time to do anything, you should go to the Butterfly Palace,” Joan said. “It’s one of my favorite places here in Branson. It’s like walking in an enchanted forest with different species of butterflies everywhere.”

  “That sounds nice, but I don’t plan on having any downtime to enjoy the local flavor while I’m here,” Jordon replied. “I’ve got a vacation planned in Florida next week so I can get away from the cold and the snow.”

  “So you think you’ll be able to have this all solved by the end of next week?” Ted’s voice was filled with hope as he looked first at Jordon and then at Gabriel.

  The frustration that had been absent while Gabriel had eaten his waffle returned to burn in the pit of his belly. “Unfortunately, I can’t promise to solve this case in a timeline that would accommodate Agent James’s vacation plans.”

  “And certainly that isn’t what I meant to imply,” Jordon replied with a slight upward thrust to her chin. “Vacation plans can be postponed. I’m committed to being here as long as I need to be in order to be of assistance to Chief Walters.” She gave him a decidedly chilly smile.

  “And I appreciate any help that I can get,” he replied, hoping to diffuse some of the tension that suddenly snapped in the air.

  “Speaking of help...” Joan looked out the door where housekeeper Hilary Hollis and her daughter, Ann, stomped their boots before entering the building.

  Joan cleared the table and then she and Ted disappeared into the office so Gabriel and Jordon could get down to work.

  The interview with the two women didn’t take long and Gabriel let Jordon take the lead. It had been twenty-one-year-old Ann who had found Sandy Peters’s body when she’d entered the room to clean it.

  The young woman’s eyes still held the horror of the gruesome discovery as she recounted to Jordon the morning she would never forget.

  Jordon took notes on a small pad and handled the interview like the pro she obviously was, not only gaining the information she needed from the two women, but also earning their trust, as well.

  “Do you intend for me to conduct all the interviews?” she asked when the women had left and she and Gabriel were alone in the room.

  “If you’re comfortable with that. I’ve already spoken to these people several times before with the previous two homicides. Maybe you can get something out of one of them that I couldn’t get.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you being sarcastic?”

  He smiled at her ruefully. “No, although I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you think I am.” His smile fell into a frown as he continued to gaze at her. “I’m frustrated by these murders. I’m ticked off at the mayor, who has made me feel inadequate since the moment I took this job, and I guess I’ve been taking all that out on you.”

  The smile that curved her lips warmed some of the cold places that had resided inside him for months. “Apology accepted,” she replied.

  “That’s twice you’ve easily accepted an apology from me. Are you always so forgiving?” he asked curiously.

  “I try not to sweat the small stuff, although I have been known to have a temper. Now, who are we seeing next?”

  Before he could reply, the outer door swung open and groundskeeper Billy Bond walked in. “I don’t know why I’ve got to be here,” Billy said after the introductions had been made and he’d thrown himself into a chair.

  He looked at Gabriel, his dark eyes filled with his displeasure. “You’ve already talked to me a dozen times before when those other two people got killed. I don’t know any more now about murder than I did then.”

  “But I don’t know anything about you or anything you’ve told Chief Walters in the past, so you’ll have to humor us and answer some questions for me.” Jordon gave the surly man a charming smile. “Why don’t we start with you telling me what your duties are around here?”

  “I take care of the grounds.”

  “Can you be a little more specific?”

  For the next forty-five minutes Jordon questioned the thirty-two-year-old man who had worked for the bed-and-breakfast since Joan and Ted had opened the doors for business.

  Once again admiration for Jordon’s interrogation skills filled him as he sipped coffee and listened. And as before as he watched Billy closely, as he heard what the man had to say, he couldn’t help but believe the man was hiding something...but what?

  “He’s a charming guy,” Jordon said wryly when Billy left.

  “He definitely lacks some social skills,” he replied.

  She looked down at her notes. “He answered all of my questions fairly easily, but his posture and facial expressions indicated to me that he wasn’t being completely truthful.” She looked at Gabriel. “For most of the interview he refused to meet my gaze and I could smell his body sweat. He just seemed a bit shady to me.”

  “Billy is at the top of my potential suspect list because I have the same concerns about him, but I haven’t been able to find anything to tie him to the murders and I can’t figure out what he could be lying about.”

  “He would be on my suspect list simply because he’s the one who found Samantha Kent in the woods,” she replied. “He could have stabbed her and then waited until he knew she couldn’t say anything to identify him and then played the hero in calling for help, knowing that she was going to die before she could say anything to anyone.”

  He nodded. The same thought had definitely been in his head. “But what’s his motive? There’s certainly no financial gain in him killing the guests and he doesn’t seem to have an ax to grind with the Overtons.”

  “Crazy doesn’t need a rational motive,” Jordon replied. Her eyes simmered with what appeared to be a whisper of dark ghosts and Gabriel fought against a sudden dark foreboding of his own.

  Chapter Three

  It was just before noon when thirty-eight-year-old handyman Ed Rollings sat at the table for his interview. Ed had the face of a cherub, slightly plump and with the open friendliness of a man who’d never met a stranger in his life.

  However, the pleasant man was an
other at the top of Gabriel’s list of suspects. Before Ed had arrived, Gabriel had given Jordon just enough information to aid her in her questioning of Ed.

  “I understand your brother Kevin owned this place before the Overtons bought it,” Jordon now said.

  Ed nodded and a strand of his blond hair fell across his broad forehead. “That’s right. Kev had big dreams for Diamond Cove but he was short in the financial-planning area.” Ed laughed and shook his head. “That’s the story of Kevin’s life... Big dreams and no smarts for the follow-through.”

  “And you weren’t upset when the Overtons took over here?”

  “Why would I be upset? I was just glad they hired me on. I’d been working here when my brother owned it and jobs aren’t that easy to find around here. I don’t have any hard feelings against Ted and Joan. They didn’t screw things up for Kevin. He did that to himself.”

  “What about your brother? Does he have a grudge against the Overtons?” Jordon asked.

  “Kevin has a grudge against the whole world. Most of the time he doesn’t even like me or our brother Glen,” Ed replied with another laugh.

  Gabriel listened to the back and forth and thought about that moment when Jordon’s eyes had darkened so much. Although he shouldn’t be curious, he was.

  He was intrigued about those dark shadows that had momentarily danced in the depths of her eyes. He wondered what had caused her divorce, if her curls were as soft as they looked and what her slightly plump lips might taste like.

  He also wondered if the stress of these cases was making him lose his mind. Certainly his thoughts about Jordon were completely inappropriate.

  As Jordon continued questioning Ed, Gabriel got up from the table and walked over to stare out the window. From this vantage point he could see not only the cabins up on the ridge, but also the guest shed.

  The scene of each murder flashed in his head, along with all of the people he’d interviewed after each one had occurred. Had he interviewed the murderer twice before already? Had he sat across from the person who had viciously stabbed Samantha Kent, Rick Sanders and Sandy Peters and exchanged conversation? Had he somehow missed something vital? That was one of his biggest fears.