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He refocused his attention on his boss, listening to the plans for the next day. “You will be checking into the Sweetheart Suites tomorrow night as newlyweds Cassie and Mick Crawford. Your new identification and background information is also in the folders. But before that, you are to meet Sheriff Lambert at the Dew Drop Café in Cobb’s Corner at two. He’ll tell you the rest of the arrangements that have been made for the two of you. This isn’t about how well you can investigate the murder. Leave that to the local law enforcement and the other agents I’m sending in. Your job is to strictly play to the victimology of the killer and nothing more. Be a couple of happy honeymooners and let the killer come to you.”
Mick hazarded a glance at Cassie, who still looked slightly shell-shocked. He had worked undercover many times, but he was relatively certain that Cassie never had before. There were hazards and tricks she would have to learn, and he wasn’t sure she would be a willing student or a quick study. Time would tell.
He once again focused his attention on Forbes, who was finishing up the details of the assignment. “By the time you check in tomorrow afternoon we’ll have a surveillance team in place in the cabin next to yours. We’re not about to throw the two of you in the path of a killer without a little backup.”
“And that’s what I like about you,” Mick said with his usual humor. Cassie didn’t crack a smile. Mick sighed inwardly. He had a feeling this was going to be a brief but difficult marriage.
Once the meeting was finished, he and Cassie stepped out of the office. “This should be interesting,” he said.
“I just want you to know that I’m not happy to be working with you again,” she said, her bright blue eyes flashing a cold ire. “Working the Samuel case with you was an unpleasant experience I’d rather forget.”
“There were moments of it that I’ll never forget.” He knew they were the wrong words to say the instant they left his mouth.
Her cheeks flushed a bright pink and her blue eyes narrowed slightly. “A momentary lapse of judgment on my part that will never happen again. I’m going home to pack and get ready for this charade. I’ll meet you here at seven in the morning.”
She didn’t give him an opportunity to reply, but rather spun on her heels and hurried down the hallway away from him. He watched her go, his head filled with myriad thoughts. At least she hadn’t pretended she didn’t remember that night with him.
Of course, it would have been hard to forget the morning after, when she’d shoved him from the bed to the floor and told him to get out of her apartment. “Forget this happened,” she’d said. “Forget my address. In fact, forget my name.” She’d chased him from the bedroom to the door in a state of barely contained rage.
“Don’t forget to pack your bathing suit,” he now called after her. Her only response was a visible stiffening of her slender shoulders as she continued on her way.
When she disappeared from the hallway, Mick shook his head ruefully. It was definitely the first time he’d had a reaction like that from a woman he’d had sex with, a woman he’d spent the night with.
Minutes later as he left the field office and drove north toward the house he’d bought a year ago with the intention of renovating, he turned his thoughts to everything that would need to be done before taking off in the morning.
It was already after four. He’d go home, throw some clothing in a duffel bag and then spend the rest of the evening studying the files he’d been given.
There was nothing Mick liked better than hunting killers, and he was good at what he did. Unfortunately, this time he wouldn’t be the hunter, and if all things went the way they were supposed to, he and Cassie would be the hunted.
The whole operation was risky. It was possible the killer wouldn’t take them as bait, possible that another couple would wind up dead in their place.
The drive to his home took twenty minutes, and by the time he pulled into his driveway he couldn’t wait to study the particulars of the crime.
He stifled a mental groan as he pulled up in his driveway alongside his eldest sister’s car. At forty-two years old, Lynnette had lost her husband a year ago in a tragic car accident. The two had never had children, and once the initial grieving stage had passed she’d taken to nurturing Mick like she had when they’d been kids.
“Something smells good,” he said as he walked through the front door. He headed directly to the kitchen, where he knew he’d find Lynnette.
“Some of my baked ziti and garlic bread.” Lynnette turned from the oven and smiled at him. “I fixed too much yesterday and thought I’d bring some of the leftover to you.”
He set the folder on the table and sat as she motioned him down in the chair. “Let’s see, two days ago you made too much meat loaf. Before that I seem to remember some beef stew magically appearing in my refrigerator.”
“What can I say? I like to cook and I always cook too much.” She placed a plate in front of him, the scent of her homemade tangy tomato sauce creating a rumble in the pit of his stomach.
“You do realize I’m thirty-four and pretty well grown. You don’t have to cook for me,” he said, picking up his fork and digging into the tasty pasta dish.
She flashed him her beautiful smile as she sat across from him at the table. “To me you’ll always be that five-year-old little charmer that Patsy, Eileen and I worked so hard on to curl your hair and paint your fingernails in an effort to make you our fourth sister.”
Mick shot her a mock scathing look and reached for a piece of garlic bread. “You know that experience scarred me for life and was the reason I decided to get one of the most macho jobs on the planet.”
Lynnette laughed. “But you did make a really pretty sister.” She sobered slightly. “Of course what we’d really like is for you to get married and give us a lovely sister-in-law.”
Mick shook his head. “I’ve told you all that’s not in my plans. I have no interest in ever pursuing love and marriage.”
Lynnette leaned back in her chair, her pretty features filled with sadness. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” she said softly.
Mick set down his fork and reached across the table to cover one of her hands with his. “I’m so sorry,” he said. They were meaningless words that had been spoken often to Lynnette in the past year.
She nodded. “You can’t let one bad experience close off your heart.”
He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand and tried not to think about how devastating he’d found his one real foray into love. “If you had it to do all over again, knowing the outcome, would you still have married Albert?” he asked as he pulled his hand back from hers.
“Absolutely,” she replied without hesitation. “A cruel blow of fate took Al away from me far too soon, but nobody can take away my memories of loving and being loved.” She cleared her throat and got up from the table. “Now eat before it gets cold,” she commanded.
Lynnette hung around long enough to feed Mick and clean up the dishes. “I’m going to be out of town for a little while starting tomorrow morning,” Mick said as he walked her to the front door.
“Where are you headed?” she asked.
He smiled teasingly. “Now, you know if I tell you that I’ll have to kill you.”
“So, it’s a new assignment. You will take care of yourself,” Lynnette said with concern. “You know the three of us worry about you every time you have to disappear for work.”
“And you know what I always tell you, I’m the invincible man with the unbreakable heart,” he replied. He kissed her on the cheek and shooed her out the door. “Don’t worry, and I’ll call you all when I get back in town.”
Minutes later, after throwing what clothes he thought he’d need for a “honeymoon,” into a large duffel bag, he hunkered down at the kitchen table and began to read through the files that had been prepared for him.
It took him only minutes to become completely immersed in the dark world of murder. The evening hours were eaten up as he studied crime-scene photos and read reports.
One thing he would say about the Arkansas sheriff’s department, they’d done a professional job in collecting and processing evidence. The crime-scene photos were clear and captured the horror of the crime. The interviews that had been conducted following each kill appeared to be appropriate.
Midnight came and went, and finally he felt as if he had all the details he needed to walk into the situation. All he had to do to feel confident in this assignment was learn the final elements of the crimes and his and Cassie’s role undercover from Sheriff Lambert the next day.
What he wasn’t sure of was how prepared Cassie would be to play her part in the charade. There was no question that a part of him anticipated working with her again, that she’d been one of only two women in his life that had been difficult to get out of his mind.
The first woman had professed to love him and then had committed what he considered an unforgivable sin. He would never give a woman that kind of power in his life again.
Unfortunately, he was preparing to go into battle with a woman who he believed wasn’t ready for the task ahead, and in this case he wasn’t putting his heart on the line, but rather his very life.
Chapter Two
He was late.
Cassie checked her watch for the third time in the past ten minutes. She really wasn’t surprised. Mick was the kind of man who would be late for his own funeral.
The last time she’d worked with him his tardiness had definitely been an issue that had driven her half-insane. He’d come in sleep-eyed and tousle-haired for morning meetings and had often drifted in late to noontime briefings.
Cassie was always early. She considered it the height of rudeness to keep people waiting, but apparently Mick was cut from a different cloth than she’d been.
She impatiently tapped her foot against the pavement of the FBI building parking lot. It already was beginning to heat up beneath the mid-July sunshine.
If they were going to meet with Sheriff Lambert in Cobb’s Corners at two, then they didn’t have a lot of time to waste this morning. It was a full six-hour drive to their destination.
The smell of the heating asphalt shot a faint memory through her head, a childhood memory of standing on a hot sidewalk while her parents begged people walking by for spare change.
She shook her head to dispel the painful, shameful memory. She tried never to think of those years of her youth. They brought with them only the tight press of anxiety in her chest and bad dreams at night.
As she checked her watch once again she heard the sound of Mick’s little red sports car roaring into the parking lot. A moment later he parked next to her four-door sedan and got out of the driver’s seat.
“Good grief, Cassie, you look like you’re going to a funeral rather than on a honeymoon,” he exclaimed.
Cassie looked down at her casual black slacks and the crisp white short-sleeved blouse she wore and then back at him in his khaki shorts and wildly flower-printed shirt. “Excuse me for not meeting your questionable standards,” she said coolly. “I’ve never been on a honeymoon before.”
He grinned at her and then reached into the backseat of his car and withdrew a large duffel bag. “Don’t worry about it, when we get to town I’ll help you do a little shopping.”
She stared at him in horror, her mind instantly filled with a vision of herself in Daisy Duke shorts and see-through blouses. Shopping with Mick McCane? She didn’t think so, at least not in this lifetime.
He dropped the duffel next to where she’d parked her medium-size suitcase and smaller overnight bag. “Have you been inside? Do we need to check in or anything?”
“I already did.” She held up her left hand that now sported a diamond wedding band.
“Wow, looks like I’ve got good taste. Wheels?”
She pointed to a nearby navy blue sedan and held up a key. “The paperwork has been done. It’s registered to Mick and Cassie Crawford from Kansas City.”
“Great, let’s load up and hit the road.”
They stored their luggage in the trunk and then she slid into the passenger seat as he took the wheel. She was instantly conscious of the scent of his cologne, that spicy scent that evoked memories of twisted sheets and hot kisses and sinful caresses that had driven her out of her mind.
“You’ve got your new identification?” he asked as they both buckled their seat belts and he backed out of the parking space.
“In my wallet,” she replied, thankful that he’d broken the unwanted direction of her thoughts.
“I’ve got identification and a credit card to use for everything,” he said. “I guess we need to come up with a backstory for ourselves.” He turned out of the parking lot and onto a street that would eventually carry them out of Kansas City and toward Arkansas.
“If we’re on our honeymoon, then I guess we just got married yesterday?”
“Sounds good to me. Most people get married on Sundays, but we decided to have a Monday evening ceremony because we like to be different.” He flashed her a quick glance. “Well, if anyone presses the issue we can say I like to be different and I pressured you in to a Monday marriage.”
“I suppose you want to tell people we met rollerblading on the moon,” she said dryly.
He laughed. He had a nice laugh, deep and robust, not that it mattered to her. “Actually, I figured we’d tell people we were introduced by mutual friends.”
For the first time since she’d gotten into the car Cassie began to relax. “Okay, that sounds good. How long did we date before you popped the question?”
“Six months, and then we had a small, intimate ceremony with just friends and family.”
“Six months?” She frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a very long courtship.”
Once again he gifted her with his confident, charming smile. “I know a good thing when I find it, so I didn’t waste any time when it came to putting a ring on it.”
Cassie started to protest, but instead clamped her mouth firmly closed. What difference did it make what they told anyone who asked? The people in Black Creek were strangers and she and Mick were simply there to do a job. Once that job was done she’d never see any of those people again.
And she had to focus strictly on the work. She couldn’t be distracted by the fact that from the moment she’d first met him almost a year ago something about Mick had made her breath catch just a bit in her chest.
“Fine, you moved fast and I fell for your charm,” she finally said.
His grin grew downright cheeky. “So, you admit it, you do find me charming.”
“Stuff it, McCane,” she retorted irritably. She’d known this was going to be difficult. They were scarcely out of the city limits and already she wanted to jump out of the car and leave him behind.
He seemed to sense that he might have pushed her far enough. He repositioned his hands on the steering wheel and stared out the front window. “The cover story is that I’m a carpenter and work for a big remodeling company and you’re a receptionist in a dental office.”
“Okay, that sounds fine. Did you read the files?”
“Yeah, I was up most of the night looking at them.”
“What were your first impressions?” Cassie asked, even more comfortable as the conversation turned to murder. She didn’t want to think about what that said about her social skills or lack thereof.
“Confusing. We know the motive isn’t sexual because the women weren’t raped or didn’t appear to be molested in any way. We also know there was no robbery involved because nothing appeared to be stolen from the rooms or the victims. The men still had their wallets and cash in their pockets and the women still had on their wedding rings. So, right now the motive is up for grabs.”
It was always more difficult to solve crimes when the motive wasn’t obvious, Cassie thought. “A silencer had to have been used when the men were shot. Otherwise somebody in the area would have heard the gunshot, and according to everything I read nobody in the cabins nearby heard anything.”
She smoothed a hand down her slacks, grateful for the cool air that blew through the vents. He was right, she should have dressed even more casually, at least worn a pair of shorts instead of the long slacks.
“What I wasn’t able to figure out by reading the reports and looking at the crime-scene photos is who the real victims were in each case. Both husband and wife were killed, but in two different ways, one shot, one stabbed. Which one was the primary target?”
“If we had a motive we might have a better answer to that question. Maybe it’s possible they both were the primary targets,” she replied. “Hopefully we’ll learn more from Sheriff Lambert when we get to Cobb’s Corners.”
“What I don’t get is how the perp managed to get the woman trussed up with duct tape on the bed and control the man at the same time.” He frowned, the gesture doing nothing to detract from his handsome features.
“He had a gun. That’s a definite control mechanism.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But you’d think if a man came into your cabin brandishing a gun, somebody would yell or scream and yet the people in the cabins on either side indicated they’d heard nothing when the murders were taking place.”
“There was no sign of forced entry into either of the cabins.”
“All that means is either the doors were unlocked or they opened the door to the killer. Maybe they knew him, maybe they didn’t. Then there’s the possibility that it wasn’t one man working alone. There’s no way to know that at this time.” He cast her a quick glance. “Where do you work, Mrs. Crawford?”
“I work for Dr. Davidson, a dentist in Kansas City,” she replied without hesitation. “Do you think you need to test me?”
“Just checking.”
They fell silent as the wheels of the car continued to thrum against the highway, clipping off the miles that would take them to the small town where four tragic murders had occurred.
Cassie stared out the passenger window, her thoughts occupied with the files she’d read the night before. Director Forbes had been right. She and Mick fit the profile of the victims to perfection.
Jim Armond and Bill Tanner had both been physically fit, dark-haired young men with sculpted handsome features. There was no question that Mick looked a lot like the two dead men.
Susie Armond and Jennifer Tanner had both been pretty blonde, petite women with blue eyes. They hadn’t looked so pretty after having been bound up on the beds and stabbed.
