Scene of the Crime: Black Creek

She glanced over at Mick. At least she didn’t have to worry that a pretend honeymoon would make her fall crazy in love with him. She recognized on a base level that he threatened everything she’d worked so hard to maintain, that inviting him into her life in any way would be the biggest mistake she’d ever make.

As they crested a hill the small town of Black Creek appeared in the valley below, and as they drew closer it was obvious that honeymoon madness had possessed what had once probably been a quaint little place.

The road they were on went right through the main business district, with shops and restaurants on either side. The Wedding Cake Café, Bride and Groom Boutique, Newlywed Night Shop for Adults, all the storefronts looked as if a pink and red and white froth had exploded all over the buildings.

Interspersed amid the honeymoon-themed businesses were others that indicated the mayor hadn’t been completely successful yet in the formal renaming of Black Creek to Honeymoon Haven. The Black Creek Bank rose up three stories, stately and gray next to the Black Creek Grocery Store.

Mick turned into an entrance that led to the Sweetheart Suites and parked in front of the building marked as the office. As he got out of the car to go inside and get the key to their unit, Cassie looked around the general area.

Tiny mauve-colored cabins were nestled amid tall, fully leaved trees, and on the opposite side of the office was a swimming pool complete with a grotto and a waterfall.

An edge of anxiety pressed against her chest and she turned to look in the opposite direction. Cassie liked water only if it was contained in a bathtub.

For a brief moment she was thrown back in time and the water surrounded her as she flailed helplessly, going under the surface as her lungs threatened to burst. She reached the surface. The only sound she heard was her own frantic gasps for breath and her parents’ crazy laughter before the water pulled her down once again.

She now pulled in a deep breath of the fresh-scented air, sat up straighter in her seat and shook off the memory as Mick returned to the car.

“Lucky number seven,” he said and handed her the key on a heart-shaped key ring.

“This whole town feels kind of cheesy, don’t you think? All the hearts and flowers and lace kind of make me want to gag,” she said.

“Cassie, where’s your sense of romantic spirit?” he asked as he put the car into gear and headed to their cabin. “I think it’s kind of charming.”

She looked at him in surprise. “I’d never guess you for a romantic kind of guy.”

He smiled. “Actually, I love romance, I just don’t want it to mislead any woman into thinking I want anything to do with marriage.”

“We’re definitely on the same page there,” Cassie replied. “I never want to get married.”

“Never say never,” Mick replied, parking the car in front of their little cottage. “Home, sweet home, let’s grab the bags and check things out.”

Imagining a honeymoon cottage and actually being in one were two very different things, Cassie thought as the two of them entered unit seven.

It was one large room, with a king-size bed resting on a platform that made it the focal point. The bedspread looked as it had been made by a thousand lace doilies sewn together. Scattered across the top of the white lace were delicate pink rose petals.

A dresser with a flat-screen television on top sat at the end of the bed with a chair next to it. The only other furniture in the room was a love seat behind a coffee table that sported a fruit-and-muffin basket obviously intended as a continental breakfast and a bottle of champagne chilling on ice in a silver-plated bucket.

Cassie dropped her suitcases on the floor and walked over to the bathroom. She gasped as she peered inside, where a Jacuzzi tub big enough for four people sat in the center of the room. The glass-enclosed small shower, sink and stool seemed to be incidental.

“Definitely not the average motel room,” Mick said from over her shoulder.

It was Cassie’s nightmare. The room breathed of intimacy, of items and furniture placed specifically to promote sexuality and love. She was grateful when Mick stepped back from her and walked to the love seat.

He sank down and pulled out the paperwork that Sheriff Lambert had given them. He spread out the pieces of paper on the table before him.

“According to this information the three agents next door are Sam Hunter, Jacob Tyler and Bob Hastings.” He looked around the room. “Let’s see if they’re ready for us. Agent Hastings, if you can hear me, please walk outside your cabin door and let me see you.”

Together, Cassie and Mick peered out their front window to the cabin next door. The door opened and a tall blond man walked outside. He stretched with arms overhead and gave a small but perceptible nod of his head, then returned back inside his cabin.

“Okay, so we’re wired for sound,” Mick said as they both moved away from the window. “I suppose our next order of business is to get unpacked and figure out what we’re going to do with what’s left of the day.”

“I never unpack when I travel,” she said. “I prefer just living out of my suitcases.”

He gazed at her curiously. “Funny, I would have definitely pegged you for the kind of woman who has to iron and hang everything the minute you check in someplace.”

“That just goes to show you how little you know about me,” she replied. There had been far too many times in her childhood that she’d been roused in the middle of the night to run from some motel or rented room with only the clothes on her back, leaving everything she owned behind because they weren’t in a suitcase she could carry out. But she wasn’t about to share the madness of her childhood with anyone, especially Mick.

“Well, I’d better get my shirts hung up, otherwise everyone will wonder why you married such a wrinkled man.” As he began to hang his shirts in the closet just off the bathroom, Cassie thought about the clothes she had packed.

Her entire wardrobe consisted of clothing that didn’t need to be ironed, that could be pulled from a suitcase and put right on. She sank down on the love seat. She didn’t want to think about clothes.

She also didn’t want to think about sharing that big bed with Mick, surrounded by his scent, warmed by his body heat. There was no way she wanted to go there again.

What she wanted to focus on most of all was what came next in their quest of catching the eye of a killer and hopefully getting him off the streets before he killed again.

It would be nice if they’d gain his attention today and he’d try to strike at them tonight, before she had to climb into that bed with Mick.

* * *

“I THINK OUR FIRST order of business is to take a little stroll down Main Street,” Mick said once he’d hung his shirts and shorts in the closet. “A fish has to see the bait before he’ll bite on it.” He checked his watch. “We can take a stroll, visit a couple of shops and then end up having a nice intimate dinner at the Love Nest Fine Dining Restaurant.”

“Somehow it’s difficult for me to imagine love nest and fine dining in the same sentence,” she said dryly.

Mick laughed and grabbed her by the elbow. “Come on, my lovely new bride. It’s time to get to work.”

He felt the tension that radiated from her at his simple touch. As they left the cabin he released his hold on her elbow and instead grabbed her hand with his. “You’re going to have to do better than that, cupcake,” he said beneath his breath as he squeezed her cold, lifeless hand.

Her cheeks grew pink and she returned his squeeze. He knew this all was going to be difficult on her. She obviously hated him. It was like she blamed him for somehow taking advantage of her the night they’d fallen into bed together.

He wasn’t about to take on that responsibility. She might protest that she’d been drunk, but the bottle of wine had been small and she hadn’t appeared inebriated in any sense of the word. It had been mutual desire, not booze, that had driven them into bed together.

As they left the Sweetheart Suites grounds and hit the main drag, they joined a throng of couples wandering the street and drifting in and out of shops. Laughter filled the air and everywhere Mick looked there were public displays of affection.

As they walked he glanced in the shopwindows they passed, not looking inside the stores themselves but rather eyeing their reflection in the glass to see if anyone in particular followed them.

It was probably too soon for that, but he did wonder if one of the agents from the cabin next to theirs would be shadowing their movements. He hoped not—a stranger walking the streets alone in this town of couples would possibly draw some attention and might scare off the person they wanted to follow them.

He consoled himself with the fact that neither of the murdered couples had been killed outside of their rooms, so he seriously doubted they had an FBI shadow. They would be closely monitored when in their cabin, but there was no reason to believe that any danger would come at them on the streets.

He noticed that Cassie appeared hypersensitive to their surroundings, her gaze flitting first one direction and then the other, as if expecting the killer to jump out at them.

Pulling her closer, he slung an arm around her shoulder, instantly rewarded by her stiffening against him. “You need to relax,” he murmured softly in her ear. “Right now you’re acting like an FBI agent on the hunt. Remember, that’s not our role here. You’re a newlywed. Try to look happy.”

She looked at him, her blue eyes simmering with emotions he couldn’t begin to discern. “Sorry.” She drew a deep breath and her body next to his relaxed. Her gaze softened as her lips curled into a smile that instantly fired a ball of heat in the pit of his stomach. “Better?” she asked.

He was almost breathless. He nodded and got them walking again. For the next few minutes they nodded and greeted other couples they passed as Mick kept his attention off Cassie and instead got the lay of the land.

The center of town was basically three blocks long, with side streets sporting signs pointing to other charming shops and eateries catering specifically to newlyweds that were located off the main drag.

On the surface the town appeared to have already made the transition from Black Creek to Honeymoon Haven, but there were definitely signs of a town divided.

The bank and the grocery store weren’t the only buildings that still held their Black Creek identity with the town name plastered across the front of their buildings. The post office, a Chinese restaurant and a dress boutique all still held the Black Creek name.

Flyers stuck to street signs they passed protested the new name and asked for the mayor’s resignation. “Looks like trouble in paradise,” Cassie said apparently observing the same things he had along the way.

“Mayor Jamison definitely appears to have his hands full,” Mick agreed. He pointed just ahead and on the opposite side of the street where a storefront at the very end of the block was plastered in the same flyers and large signs that read Stop the Madness.

“Looks like a place we should check out,” Cassie said as she moved from beneath his arm. He was surprised to realize that he’d enjoyed the warmth of her curves against him and the clean, slightly floral scent that emanated from her.

He followed just behind Cassie as they crossed the street, unable to help but notice the slight sway of her hips beneath the tailored slacks. It was obvious she was much more relaxed without any physical contact between them. That was definitely going to have to change.

He hurried to catch up with her as they reached the building. The doors were locked, but a sign indicated that it was the headquarters of an organization fighting the name change of the city.

A metal rack just outside the front door held flyers and Mick picked one up, folded it up and tucked it in his back pocket to look at more closely later.

“How about we find that restaurant and grab some dinner.” Cassie nodded her agreement and they started back the way they’d come, seeking the Love Nest Fine Dining, a place where both of the murdered couples had enjoyed a meal.

He once again took Cassie’s hand in his as they walked. She was still tense, as if she didn’t like the feel of his skin against hers.

He shot her a quick glance and she looked neither happy nor honeymoon-like. He released a deep sigh. “Am I going to have to remind you all the time that we’re on stage here, that you have to play your role at all times? I know you don’t like me, but you’ve got to suck it up and pretend otherwise.”

She sidled closer to him. “I’ve just been focusing on everything and everyone around us.”

“I told you that’s not our job. We need to give the impression that we’re focused only on each other. Remember, we just got married and can hardly keep our hands off each other. We don’t want to screw up this assignment because of personal issues.”

“I don’t have any personal issues with you,” she protested.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at her in disbelief. “Is that your final answer?”

“If I say yes do I win a chance at the speed round?”

He smiled. “Nah, I just get the satisfaction of knowing we don’t have any dramatic baggage lingering between us.”

They stopped at the door of the restaurant and Mick looked at her expectantly, surprised to realize he wanted an answer from her. He wanted to know why she’d been so cold toward him after the night they’d shared together, why she’d acted so violently after they’d made love. He’d thought about it far too often in the months since it had happened.

Her gaze skittered away from his. “That night was a mistake, Mick. I just don’t like to mix business with pleasure,” she finally answered. She looked back at him, a touch of steely strength in her eyes. “Now, let’s leave it at that and get on with our assignment.”

He wasn’t really satisfied with her reply, but recognized that she had no intention of talking about it any further.

The Love Nest Fine Dining Restaurant was comprised of semicircular booths covered on the outside with a faux strawlike material that gave them the impression of nests.

Mick requested seating by the front window and they were led to one of the “nests” where they could be seen by people out on the street while they enjoyed their meal.

It took only a few minutes for them to order a glass of wine and then select their meal from the menu, which offered meals for two to share.

When the waitress left, Cassie leaned toward Mick. “Did you notice anyone suspicious? Anyone paying special attention to us?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the eagerness that lit her eyes. Only somebody like him could get excited about catching the attention of a killer.

“I didn’t notice anyone.”

“I don’t think we have a tail,” she replied. “I guess since the murders were accomplished in the cottages where the couples were staying they decided not to put a tail on us when we’re out in public.”

“That’s the same conclusion I came to,” he replied.

“If the first two murders were about two weeks apart, then our killer should be ready to pop off again.” She paused as the waitress arrived at the table with their drinks.

“Tell me, Cassie, what made you choose to become an agent?” he asked once the waitress had gone. In the time they’d spent together working previously they’d never really had a chance to talk about their personal lives.

They’d worked the case hard and then had celebrated with the fall into her bed. She’d then kicked him to the curb and there had been no time for really getting to know each other. He figured this was as good a time as any to find out more about her. Maybe sharing a little bit between them would loosen her up a bit.

She neatly aligned her silverware next to her plate before looking at him and replying. “Unlike a lot of people who enter law enforcement, I didn’t have any family members who worked in the field and none of my family had ever been victims of a violent crime. It was the discipline that drew me, the knowledge that there were definitive rules to adhere to and set procedures to follow. I like that in life. I like structure, both in my professional and in my private life.”

“I kind of figured that out about you,” he replied dryly.

“What about you?” She reached out and grabbed the stem of her wineglass. He noticed that her fingernails were short and neat and appeared to be painted with clear polish.

She was definitely low maintenance when it came to personal appearance, so unlike the woman who had stolen his heart and then shattered it years ago.

He shoved away thoughts of Sarah. She had no place in his thoughts anymore. She didn’t deserve to be in his thoughts at all.

“Actually, I joined the academy to escape three older sisters who, when I was young, tried to transform me into another sister and now all think they are my mother.”

She smiled, a quick gesture that lasted only a moment. “Your mother is gone?” she asked.

He nodded. “A long time ago. She died of cancer when I was seven. My dad worked hard to take care of things, but the maternal stuff all came from my sisters. Dad passed away three years ago from a heart attack and since then my sisters have all stepped up their mothering of me. What about you? You have family somewhere?”

“None,” she replied without hesitation. “What do you think about our unsub? Maybe his parents got a divorce when he was young and he blames them for ruining his life so now he’s killing newlywed couples before they can become Mommy and Daddy and screw up another kid’s world.”

Mick didn’t miss how smoothly she’d deflected the conversation away from anything personal about herself and back to a professional topic. “Maybe, who knows? Maybe he just likes what he does and we’ll never know a motive that makes any kind of sense to anyone. Maybe he just does it for the thrill of it.”

She frowned thoughtfully. “Those are the hardest kind of killers to catch, but I don’t think that’s what we’re looking at here. The fact that he’s already established a pattern in his victimology tells me there’s a reason for the murders, and we just need to crawl into his head to find it.”

“It’s not our job to get into his head,” Mick reminded her. “Our job is to hope that he gets us into his head and sees us as his next victims.”

“There’s no question that we’re his type. I just hope that there are a lot of brunette women on the streets over the next couple of days. That would definitely make it easier for him to spot me. I want him to make his move on us as quickly as possible.”

Mick reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “Trying to get rid of me so fast?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “Just remember that the better we play our parts the faster we’ll make it happen and then you won’t have to pretend that you’re in love with me any longer.”

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the waitress with their food. While they ate they kept the conversation neutral, mostly talking about the sights they’d seen earlier while strolling down the streets. Several times Mick tried to learn a little about her past, about her parents and where she’d come from, but she deftly managed to respond to his questions without giving him any real answers.

There was a mystery in the depths of her eyes. He sensed secrets in her past, and as far as Mick was concerned there was nothing so inviting as a woman with many layers.

The next couple of days or so should be very interesting, he thought as he eyed Cassie across the table. He wanted to learn a little more about her, unpeel some of the layers to expose the woman beneath the efficient, anal-retentive agent, and if that wasn’t enough, he had a killer to bring down.

* * *

HE WATCHED THEM from across the street, the dark-haired man and the petite blonde eating dinner at a table near the window of the restaurant.

They were perfect.

They were just what he liked.

And they were FBI agents.

By now, Matt and Janice Campbell, who ran the Sweetheart Suites, would have told half a dozen friends all about the three agents who had checked into the suite next to Mr. and Mrs. Crawford and the audio equipment they’d installed in that cabin. Of course, Matt and Janice would have sworn each and every person they told to secrecy, but there weren’t many secrets in Black Creek.

Three FBI agents holed up in a cottage and two more pretending to be newlyweds, and they all were here because of him.

To catch him.

A thrill swept through him, warming his heart, which had been cold for a long time. FBI agent or not, the woman definitely stirred him. She appeared so fragile, so dainty and small of stature. He could imagine the silky feel of her pale blond hair entwined with his fingers, imagine the horror of her blue eyes as she realized she was about to die.

The very sight of her whirled a rage through him that had been born two years ago and had only been sated twice since then, and that had been when he’d killed those other two couples.

Clenching his hands into fists at his sides he watched as she picked up her wineglass and took a sip. It tickled him that he knew they were playing a part specifically to trap him.

He was sure they’d studied all the facts of the other murders, memorized each and every detail of his handiwork. But he’d been good. He’d been very good. He’d left nothing behind to identify him, no trail for them to follow.

And now they thought they were one step ahead of him, dangling the perfect bait right before his hungry eyes. Yes, that definitely amused him.

He knew they were expecting him to strike in their room, just like he’d taken down the others. They would believe that when danger came it would appear at their cottage door late in the evening.

They would anticipate that he’d established a pattern and would continue to repeat that pattern. That’s why they were here. That’s why there were three agents in the cottage next to theirs, to wait for him to take their bait, to watch for him to make his move.

He turned and headed down the street, leaving the two to their “romantic” meal. What they didn’t know was that he was on to them.

They had no clue that all of their preparations, all their anticipation of his next move was for nothing. Oh, yes, he was on to them and all that meant was that it was time to change his pattern so he could take them down.

The fact that they were FBI agents didn’t matter. What did matter was they were a perfect couple…that she was the perfect woman to take away his rage…at least for a little while.

Chapter Four

Cassie awoke just before dawn, superaware of Mick in the bed next to her. The scent of his spicy cologne lingered faintly in the air and even though he was several inches away from her she imagined she could feel the warmth of his body radiating outward to embrace her.

She’d been awake for most of the night, afraid that somehow in her sleep she’d roll over against Mick or worse, snuggle against him while dreaming.

She’d known it would be awkward and it had been, at least for her. Thankfully, when they’d returned to the cabin after dinner she’d gone directly into the bathroom, where she’d changed into a pair of navy blue short-sleeved cotton pajamas, and when she’d come out Mick had already been in bed wearing a T-shirt and a pair of boxers.

She’d slid beneath the sheets on her side of the bed and had held her breath. She had no idea what to expect from him, was afraid that he might try a repeat of what they had shared months ago.

Instead he’d murmured a good-night and within minutes his light snores had filled the air and Cassie had tried her best to relax.

But “relax” didn’t seem to be in her body’s repertoire of tricks, and sleep seemed out of the question altogether. The day’s events played and replayed in her mind. Had the killer already seen them? Was he at this very moment deciding the right time to somehow attempt to gain entry into their room and commit murder once again?