Scene Of The Crime: Means And Motive. Carla Cassidy

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      * * *

      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 never 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 СКАЧАТЬ