Cold Hearted (Cold Justice Book 6) (10 page)

Not where her thoughts wanted to go, on any level.

Erin sat down and retrieved her notebook from her pocket. Then held up her digital voice recorder. “Do you mind if I record this?”

Tanya shook her head.

“But it isn’t admissible as evidence,” Alicia insisted.

“Evidence? I’m just trying to piece together the timeline from last night. It’ll be easier to refer to the recording than track you down every time I have a question. Yes?”

Alicia looked away and nodded. She obviously regretted throwing herself into Erin’s arms last night. Erin wouldn’t hold it against her.

“What time did you go out last night, Tanya?”

“I left just after eight. Probably five minutes past. My friend Jillian picked me up, and we went to a party across the road from here.”

“Mandy and Cassie were both in the house when you left?”

Tanya sniffed and her eyes started streaming again. “Mandy was in her room writing a paper. Cassie was lying on her bed reading a magazine. She said she didn’t want to come to the party because she had an assignment due, but really she didn’t want to see anyone who reminded her of Drew.”

Erin hadn’t seen a magazine in her room. She saw Darsh’s gaze sharpen. He was probably thinking the same thing.

“What frame of mind were they both in?”

“Mandy was desperate to get an A to keep up her GPA. She was hoping to get into the honors program with Professor Huxley.”

“He’s a criminology professor here at Blackcombe,” Erin told Darsh.

“Cassie was down over Drew.”

The glare sent in her direction was duly noted and ignored. “Did you lock the front door when you left?”

Tanya’s mouth dropped open. “Are you trying to blame me?” She averted her gaze to the ceiling and muttered, “Fucking bitch.”

“Tanya!” Mrs. Conway reprimanded sharply as she entered the room with a tray of fresh coffee and a glare for her charges. “That’s no way to talk to the detective.”

Tanya hunched down into her seat.

“Detective Donovan is trying to figure out how the UNSUB got into the house.” Darsh’s voice was velvet smooth. “There’s no sign of forced entry so the door was either unlocked, picked, or the UNSUB had a key.”

Both girls’ eyes went wide, and matching expressions of horror stretched their features.

“I locked the door handle, but I didn’t turn the deadbolt,” Tanya admitted. “It’s what we all did.”

“The back door was also locked?” Erin asked.

“Yes. We always kept the back door dead-bolted. We don’t go out there much in the winter except to put out the garbage.”

“Was the party you went to last night common knowledge?” Erin asked.

Tanya shrugged and looked at her friend. “I dunno. I always hear about them because Jillian dates a guy who lives there. They aren’t secret, but not everyone is allowed in.”

Erin looked at Alicia. “You were in the library studying?”

The girl nodded. “We have exams at the end of January.”

“Did you tell people you were going to be out of your house?” Erin pressed.

Alicia looked at her like she was crazy. “My study group knows, and my housemates. Who else would I tell? People see me there, sure, but I don’t put my location on social media. I’m not an idiot.”

How had the UNSUB known there were only two women to deal with, or had he gone in prepared to kill all four? Two showed a high degree of confidence. The idea he’d been willing to handle four scared the crap out of Erin.

“You often stay at the library until closing?” she pushed.

Alicia nodded. “Until 10 PM every weeknight. Not Fridays, Saturdays, or Sundays. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk.”

“You walk alone?”

“Only from the bottom of our street. One of my study partners lives a street over.”

Darsh interrupted. “Did you see anyone in the street, or any cars you didn’t recognize?”

Tanya shook her head. “I wasn’t paying attention. I was happy to see Jillian after the Christmas break, and I was talking about Cassie, and how sad it was she was wasting her life on a guy who was stuck in prison.” A harsh sob ripped out of her throat, and she covered her mouth as if trying to stuff it back inside.

“Did Cassie correspond with Drew Hawke?” Darsh asked.

Erin threw him a grateful look. If she brought up Drew’s name, she was liable to be spat on. Having the fed around might come in handy.

Tanya cleared her throat. “Yes, she wrote him every day.”

“He write her back?” Darsh asked.

Alicia sneered pointedly in Erin’s direction. “He doesn’t have much else to do, does he?”

“She’d got a letter from him that day.” Tanya frowned as if remembering. “She was reading it on the bed.”

So where were the letters? She and Darsh exchanged a look. Had the UNSUB taken them? Was he fixated on Drew Hawke? Or had they been partners?

“Is there anyone new in your lives? Friends, boyfriends, neighbors?”

Alicia crossed her arms. “No.”

Tanya shook her head. “We’ve been pretty subdued these last few months. We haven’t been out much.”

Erin scrolled through some photographs on her phone and carefully found one of the rope. She zoomed in so Cassie’s body wasn’t visible.

“Do you recognize this rope?” First she showed Tanya, who shook her head.

Alicia blanched as she recognized it from the crime scene last night. “No. It’s not from the house that I know of.”

Erin nodded and slipped her phone back into her pocket. She turned off her recorder and snapped her notebook closed. “That’s all we need for now.”

“How long until the girls can move back home?” Mrs. Conway asked. Ever the practical one of the bunch.

Tanya huddled into her blanket. “I’m never living there again.”

“It’ll be at least a week until the crime scene is released.” Erin addressed the house mother. “But I can have an officer escort the girls to pick up some of their belongings today if they like. I’d really like you to think hard about seeing anyone in the street or hanging around last night—”

“It’s the same guy who raped those girls last year, isn’t it?” Tanya turned accusing brown eyes on her. “Drew’s innocent, isn’t he? Cassie was right, and the bastard killed her to prove it.”

Alicia covered her mouth and sobbed. “Poor Mandy. She wanted to help catch these assholes. But we all know Mandy wasn’t the main target. I saw the bodies. She was collateral damage the same way Tanya and I would have been if we’d been home.”

“Don’t talk like that!” Tanya gasped.

“It’s true.”

The sound of the front door crashing open reverberated throughout the house. Erin braced herself when she heard shouting in the hallway.

“Where is she? Where’s that bitch!”

Here we go.
She went into the main hallway, conscious of Darsh at her side. Would he back her up or watch the situation play out? Jason Brady and a bunch of Blackcombe Ravens football players stood in the doorway. Brady spotted her and immediately strode across and leaned down until they were nose to nose. Stale beer saturated his breath.

“I just heard two girls were raped and murdered last night in the exact same way you arrested Drew for.” He jabbed two fingers into her chest. She gave him that one. “Is that enough evidence that he didn’t do it?”

She shoved his hand away. “You need to calm down, Brady. This is an ongoing investigation, and you were not invited to this interview.”

“Back off, pal.” Darsh pushed against Brady’s shoulder.

“Who the fuck are you?” Brady swiped at his arm.

“Agent Singh, FBI.” At least the fed sounded cool under pressure. “Let the detective do her job.”

“If she could do her fucking job, Drew wouldn’t be rotting in a fucking prison cell.”

“Back off, Brady. That is your last warning,” she told him.

Jason Brady played wide receiver and was six foot four inches of pure muscle. His pals were wider and meaner looking. Brady leaned so close his stale beer breath brushed over her face. “Or what, bitch?”

It was the spittle on her cheek that sealed the deal. Two seconds later, she had Brady flat on the floor with his arm pinned high behind his back as she dug the cuffs out of her pocket.

“Jason Brady, I’m arresting you for threatening behavior. Assault of an officer.” She snapped the cuffs around one thick wrist. Jesus, the guy was strong. She didn’t ease up on the grip she had on him even though it had to be excruciating. The knucklehead seemed oblivious to pain. She checked behind her and half-expected a riot, but Darsh stood planted in front of her, stance wide, weapon in hand in a come-and-get-some-if-you-dare challenge. A huge guy who played defenseman lay on the floor, out cold.

Mrs. Conway took control and started hustling the students out of her hallway—more effective than either the cops or the FBI in restoring order.

Erin radioed for backup and a cruiser to transport Brady to the station. She jerked the young man unceremoniously to his feet and marched him out the door into the frigid January air. A growing crowd of onlookers was forming on the grass outside; murmurs grew into yells of outrage when they spotted Brady in cuffs. The atmosphere became downright ominous.

No time to wait for backup. Darsh opened the rear door of his rental, and she stuffed Brady inside, secured his seatbelt, surprised when he didn’t struggle. He glared at her with such intense hatred in his eyes it made her stomach clench.

“Get in,” Darsh ordered her.

She glanced up to see some of the football players coming purposefully toward them. She slammed the door and walked calmly to the passenger door and climbed in. The fed immediately pulled away from the curb, and she turned in the seat to keep an eye on their prisoner.

“Were you born a misandrist or did you grow into it?” Brady asked with a sneer from the back seat.

“Fancy words,” she said, eyeing him thoughtfully. “I always forget you’re a smart guy under the Neanderthal. The only word I usually hear come out of your mouth begins with ‘c’ and rhymes with grunt.”

“You’re going to regret this. I haven’t done anything wrong. Then again neither did Drew, did he?”

Darsh eyed him in the rear view mirror. “You crossed a line back there, pal. You received several warnings and still put your hands on a police officer. This is your own fault.”

“You must be fucking her to defend her,” Brady said bitterly. “I always wondered how any guy could get it up for such a cold bitch. Despite the hot little package, I bet it’s like nailing a corpse.”

Erin glared.

Darsh thankfully said nothing.

But Brady wasn’t done. “Your husband couldn’t stand it, could he?”

Erin’s flesh turned to ice.

“Blew his brains out rather than face life with you.”

Erin ignored the stiffening of Darsh’s hands on the wheel and forced herself to hold the student’s vitriolic gaze. Never show fear. She raised her chin. “Keep talking, Brady. It’s all fodder for the police report.”

At that he shut his mouth, but insolently looked her over like he could see her naked. He hated her all right. She stared right back as her brain ticked over. Her cell rang. She checked it and mentally groaned. The Dean of Students was on the line. The guy had been very supportive of the rape victims last year, but with two new murdered students and the fact she’d just arrested another of his football players, he wasn’t likely to be happy.

She let the call go to voicemail.

It crossed her mind that Jason Brady had been in the courtroom almost every day last fall. He knew every detail of the crimes, and he would do almost anything to get his buddy out of prison. Would that include killing Hawke’s girlfriend? The idea ticked like a bomb in her brain. If it went off, the whole town was gonna explode.

H
e drove up
to the old farmhouse, careful to keep his tires in the established ruts. The snow was compacted almost to solid ice. The tires on his vehicle, even if they left tread marks, were so generic they weren’t likely to be traced in the unlikely event Erin noticed them and became suspicious.

She’d be tied up for most of the day with the investigation, but he was still taking a risk coming here. A calculated risk.

Taking care of Mandy had been more difficult than he’d expected. As much as he’d wanted to cover her face afterwards, he couldn’t risk it. Depersonalizing the victim revealed too much about the killer. Even so, he hadn’t been able to strip her or touch her the way he’d originally intended. Thankfully, he’d been able to do the deed without her seeing his face.

Killing Cassie hadn’t been hard at all—what a
bitch
. His waist still stung from where she’d clawed him with her inch-long nails. Hitting her had been surprisingly arousing—an unexpected result from his change in tactics. He’d taken out his anger and frustration on the irritating bitch and enjoyed every fucking moment. It had been messier than he expected. He’d made her pay for that.

The look on her face when he’d had her all tied up. The understanding in her eyes when she realized what he’d done, and what he was about to do. It was enough to make him hard all over again.

Smoke poured out of a chimney, telling him the furnace had kicked on. He turned off the car engine and got out. Raised his face to the perfect blue of the sky as the cold wind whispered across his cheeks. It was quiet here. Peaceful. He’d visited a few times. He liked it.