Ripped in Red (6 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Hickey

BOOK: Ripped in Red
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9

“S
tay.” Cassidy commanded Rosie to remain in the car and shut the door, leaving the window open against the warm morning, then turned to survey the hectic scene.

Flames billowed from the storefront and ate at the roof. Glass littered the sidewalk like confetti. “Was anyone injured or killed?”

One of the first responders, an EMT she had yet to meet, answered, “No. Just an explosion.”

“Any witnesses?”

“That baker over there came running over a minute ago. He’s waiting to talk to someone.”

She nodded and headed for the man in a white apron. “Sir, I’m Detective Monroe. Do you have information for us?”

He glanced toward the alley. “I’m not sure it’s related, but right after the explosion, I saw a man in a dark Mercedes speeding out of the alley. I called to him to stop, but he kept going. Customers are not allowed in the alley.”

“License plate?”

“Too dirty to see.” The man frowned. “That was the strange part. The rest of the car, and the man, were immaculate.”

“Rosie!” Cassidy motioned for the dog and Colin to join her. “Thank you, sir. You’ve been very helpful.”

Rosie bounded from the car window and sprinted to Cassidy’s side a second before Colin joined her. The three of them headed into the alley as Cassidy explained what the witness saw.

The alley was empty of all but a few cars, none of them a Mercedes. Not that Cassidy expected to see the perpetrator still hanging around. While Colin studied the tire tracks, she began the arduous task of knocking on business doors.

She hit pay dirt on door number three. An elderly lady who smelled of chocolate answered.

“I saw a rusty pickup truck pull away from across the street seconds before the explosion,” she explained. “It had two men inside. I think they were men.”

“Why didn’t you report this when the authorities showed up?” Cassidy’s pencil poised over her notepad.

“I didn’t know if there would be more explosions. I’m a simple candy store owner, not a vigilante. Finding these people is your job.”

“Yes, ma’am, and we’re doing our best but we can always use the help of the community.”

“That’s not what my tax dollars pay for.” She slammed the door.

Cassidy shook her head. Two vehicles, one luxury, one not, were seen fleeing the scene. Which one, or both, were involved?

She scanned up and down the alley. “Do you think it’s The Dragon?” How she hated that name.

“No clue. He didn’t leave us much to go on, if it is.” Colin straightened and snapped a picture of the tire tracks. “Let’s head back to the station. I still need to look through the morning’s paper, and you can get started on the old issues.”

She nodded and glanced in the direction the Mercedes had gone. A sheet of paper danced on a slight breeze. Following her instinct, she darted for it, chasing the paper until it stopped against a cement wall. She lifted it by the corner. Printed on it were the words:

 

Detective Monroe:

Are you enjoying our little game? Can you prove yourself worthy to be my assailant? We have more in common than you know.

 

Draco

 

“It
was
him.” She said, hurrying back to Colin and handing him the note. “He’s playing a silly game.”

Colin’s mouth twisted in thought. “No one died, which leaves me to believe he didn’t want them to. When he kills, it’s personal.”

“Personal to his accomplices, too.” Cassidy sighed. How could she keep up with the man without clues? A single sheet of paper and a set of tire tracks wouldn’t reveal his identity. “I can look for someone in the system named Draco, but I’m sure it’s an alias.” They didn’t even have enough for Rosie to track. She bit back a curse. Her mother had once told her that if you had to curse to be interesting, then you weren’t interesting to begin with. Still, times that like this made it difficult to keep a civil tongue.

Most people in law enforcement cursed with regularity. Cassidy was determined to be different. Not only in the way she handled herself, but in how she did her job. She glanced heavenward.
I could use some help right about now
. From her mother, from God, she wasn’t picky.

After letting Agent Ingram know about the note and statements from the witnesses, Cassidy opened the door to the jeep to let Rosie in, then climbed in herself. The note proved The Dragon was responsible. Thus, the FBI could supervise casing the scene, freeing her and Colin to head back to the station.

Once there, she made a pot of coffee, filled two mugs, and joined her partner in front of the case board they worked on with the FBI. After handing Colin his coffee, she tacked up the note and two cards with the descriptions of the vehicles. Perching on her desk, she sipped her coffee and studied the board. Nothing but murders and games.

She sighed and sat at her desk, opening her laptop and logging into the site that gave her access to old newspapers. She typed in her mother’s name and started searching.

She stopped on the article about her mother’s rape. Not a rape by a stranger, but one at a college fraternity party. Her mother said she hadn’t known the man, but had fought back until several other college young men heard the ruckus. By that time, Mom was covered in blood…not hers.

Cassidy needed to find the young men who found her. No names, but someone at the college had to know something. She picked up the phone and called Arkansas State. Fifteen minutes later, she had the name of a teacher who had been there at the time of the rape who agreed to speak with her.

“Let’s go to college.” She grabbed her purse and weapon, clipped the leash on Rosie’s collar, and headed out the door.

“I really hate when you do that,” Colin said, jogging to catch up.

“Do what?” She cut him a sideways glance.

“Take off like I’m going to follow like an obedient puppy.”

“Aren’t you going to follow?”

“That isn’t the point.” He scowled, his brows lowering over his amazing eyes. “It’s rude.”

“Sorry. I’ll try to do better, but we have an appointment.” She explained what she found. “Maybe this teacher saw or heard something that will take us a step further in this investigation.”

~

They parked in front of the administration building, then asked the receptionist inside where to find the cafeteria. She glanced at Cassidy’s badge before pointing them in the right direction. She frowned at Rosie, but didn’t say anything, then turned back to her work.

The cafeteria was virtually empty that time of day. Cassidy headed for a man who looked to be nearing his retirement years. “Mr. Laraby?”

“Yes. I presume you’re Detective Monroe.” He waved them to the two empty chairs at his table. “Beautiful dog. A service animal?”

“In a sense.” Cassidy took her seat. “You knew Maureen Monroe?”

“She was one of my students. A very bright girl. I was saddened to hear of her murder.” He straightened in his chair and crossed his arms. “You believe her rapist killed her?”

Cassidy nodded. “What can you tell us about the night she was attacked?”

He sighed. “It was a frat party. Your mother came with a friend. The other gal ditched her and ran off with her boyfriend. Not sure how Maureen occupied herself. All I know is that three young men came running, one of them carrying her. She was covered in blood. We discovered it wasn’t hers. When the cops arrived, she told them what happened and that she cut her attacker.” He gave a wry smile. “She was one tough girl.”

“We know all this. I was hoping you could tell us something new. Who were the boys?”

“Only one is alive right now. One died in a car crash, the other in Desert Storm. Bruce Main lives a few blocks from here.” He scribbled an address on Cassidy’s notepad. “I doubt he can tell you much more. I don’t think anyone got a good look at the attacker.”

“Was he as student here?”

“Very possible. It wasn’t a secret party, but you did have to be enrolled her to attend. Still, it wouldn’t have been impossible for someone to sneak in.” He slid a thick book across the table. “A yearbook I ‘borrowed’ from the library. Good luck.”

Cassidy shook his hand, thanked him, and glanced at Colin. “Ready to make one more stop?”

“No stone unturned.” He grinned.

~

Colin stared at the small white house. A tricycle sat on a well-manicured lawn. If the man was married with children, he might not be happy to dredge up something horrible from his past. Still, Cassidy deserved to know as much as possible. He shoved open the car door.

“Stay.” Cassidy left Rosie on the front porch and rang the doorbell. The yearbook was tucked under her arm.

A man in a business suit opened the door. “I’m heading to work. Not buying whatever you’re selling.”

Colin flashed his badge. “We have a few questions. Are you Bruce Main?”

Surprise registered in the man’s eyes. “Yes, but…” He closed the door and joined them on the porch. “I really have no idea why you’re here.”

“Mr. Main.” Cassidy stepped forward. “You helped a woman who was attacked almost twenty-five years ago at a frat party. That woman was my mother. She was later murdered. I’d like to know what you can tell us about that night.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not much. Me and the boys heard her scream. When we got there, a dark-haired man was running into the bushes. I gave chase, but he got away. I’m afraid I’d been…intoxicated, and not too quick on my feet. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Is there anything else you can tell me about her attacker? Did you recognize him? Would he be in this book?” She held out the yearbook.

Main glanced at Colin. “Man, this is bringing up some stuff I never wanted to think about again.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s important.” Colin took the book from Cassidy and handed it to Main. “Please. Is there a place we can sit?”

“There’s a table on the back porch. My wife has already left and the babysitter is inside. Will that suffice?”

“Perfect.” Colin took Cassidy by the elbow and escorted her after the man. They sat quietly while he flipped through the thick book.

“I think it might be one of these two men.” He tapped two pictures. “Loners, both of them, but they were at the party. I hate to accuse anyone when I didn’t get a good look at his face, but the profiles…yeah, it could be one of them.”

Colin glanced at the names. Daniel Haler and Vince Smith. Could one of them be the man they were looking for?

“Neither one of them returned to school after that night. With as much blood as Maureen had on her…” Main shuddered. “She hurt her attacker. If he would have come back to school, we would have known.”

“Thank you.” Cassidy stood and offered her hand. “You’ve been a big help.”

He returned her shake and offered his hand to Colin. “I hope so. That’s a night I’d rather forget. One more thing. There was a knife next to Maureen. We left it there. I’m not sure whether we ever told the cops. Like I said, we were drunk.”

“Can you tell us how to get to where the attack took place?” Colin asked.

“Sure. It isn’t far, but nature would have taken over. Or the police could have found the knife.”

Cassidy shook her head. “Nothing in the files about a knife.”

He gave them directions. “I really need to go. Good luck.” He bounded down the stairs and to his car.

Cassidy grinned. “We’re getting closer to slaying a dragon.”

10

C
assidy knew the chances of finding the knife her mother used after that many years was slim. Still, she wanted to see the place she was conceived in violence. The place that changed everything she thought her life growing up had been. She glanced around the small patch of trees behind the college.

How dark it must have been. How frightened her mother must have been. Still, she’d fought for her life, not preventing her rape, but wounding her attacker. Fatally? Perhaps, but not likely. He was seen fleeing the scene. “I want to check emergency room and hospitals for knife wounds on that night,” she said, turning to Colin. “If he’d been injured badly, he would have had to seek medical attention.”

Colin glanced toward the college. “Not the first aid office here, most likely. We can make some calls back at the office.”

She glanced around the area, trying to envision what had happened that night. Years of nature reclaiming her territory would have covered the knife in dirt and leaves. Without the proper equipment, if the knife was still there, they’d never find it.

“I’m ready to go.” With a gentle tug on Rosie’s leash, she headed back to the car.

They stopped for lunch at a fast food burger place and took their food to the conference room where the FBI agents waited for them. “About time,” Ingram said.

“We were following a lead to nowhere.” Cassidy opened her food sack and explained about their visit to the college.

Ingram frowned. “You think your biological father is this Dragon?”

She froze. She hadn’t put the thought into words, but now that he said it, it made sense. “I don’t know. Who else had a reason to kill my mother? The man she injured. If he’s killing pretty people, maybe his knife wound was disfiguring. I’m going to check hospital records for that night.”

“MacKenzie, what do you think?”

Colin exhaled sharply. “It’s all connected somehow. Why else would The Dragon be focused on Cassidy?”

Ingram shrugged. “We’ll go with it for now. Monroe, get a DNA sample on you. We’ll have something to compare this Draco with if we ever get lucky. Maybe your DNA will match with that on the first victim’s shoe.”

She nodded and bit into her burger. “I really hope I’m wrong.”

Colin opened the morning’s paper while he ate. The agents left the room to process anything found at that morning’s bombing and, hopefully, pursue Cassidy’s hunch about Draco. Figures that she’d found out her biological father wasn’t a military hero, but rather a sick, twisted killer.

Retrieving her laptop from her desk, she set it up on the conference table and began her search for knife victims almost twenty-five years ago. Eye strain set in almost immediately, and her focus wavered.

“Found another advertisement.” Colin handed her the paper. “He’s specifically asking for a red head. You, perhaps?”

She scanned the personal ad. “Red haired model wanted. Competitive pay. Come to 506 Oakwood Drive at eight p.m.” It showed today’s date. “It looks like I have an appointment tonight.”

“Not without me and the agents.” Colin took the paper back and tore out the ad.

“He won’t be there.” She shoved a french fry into her mouth. “It’s a test to see if I’ll show.”

“Doesn’t matter. You still aren’t going alone.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” The Dragon was just crazy enough to kill her.

~

Oh, this was going to be good. Draco rubbed his hands together. He had no doubt sweet Cassidy would show. He’d hide behind a two way mirror and let one of his minions take the fall, if it came to that. A new man arrived to that morning’s meeting, eager to prove his worth. If he could get in and out of a warehouse full of cops trying to hide, he’d be worthy to be a follower. If not, he’d die in a hail of bullets. Draco didn’t care either way.

He placed a folding chair behind the wall size mirror and settled down to wait. That night’s photographer sat quiet next to him, awaiting orders.

“Be vigilant, Mark. A precious woman will soon enter that cavernous room. She’ll be beautiful…and armed. Do not harm her. Convince her that you are a photographer. If you can’t, then find a way to flee. While you won’t see the cops, they’ll be there.”

“I have a way out. A hidden door in the wall behind the backdrop. I won’t fail you.” The acne scarred, balding man met Draco’s gaze. “I’ll do this, then you help me rid the world of a witch.”

“I promise.” Draco smiled with pleasure at the thick scar running from the man’s jaw to his collar bone. Cassidy would think this poor example of himself to be Draco. Imagine her surprise when she finally meets the real Dragon. “Get into place.”

Mark nodded and stood, exiting through a side door as Cassidy stepped into the brightly lit room. “Welcome,” he said, grinning. “My name is Mark, and I’ve a variety of gowns for you to wear.”

~

Cassidy’s gaze landed on the scar running along the man’s neck. Was it possible Draco was actually showing himself? “I’d like a red one. Do you think it will clash with my hair?”

“No, I think it will be wonderful.” His grin never faltered. “There’s a changing screen there. We can start with red and move to other colors. You’ll be a fabulous model. Those cheek bones…” he kissed his fingers.

Cassidy rolled her eyes and stepped behind the screen. What in the hell was going on? This man did not act like a cold blooded killer. Was it possible he really was a model scout? She chewed the inside of her cheek.

Outside, Colin and the others waited for her signal. What if she made a mistake and they converged on an innocent man? She needed to discover a way to determine whether this man was Draco or not?

“How did you get that scar?” she asked, stepping from behind the curtain. The red dress she’d chosen hugged her curves.

Mark turned his head and fiddled with a camera on a tripod. “Car accident.”

“I’m sorry. It really isn’t any of my business.” She stood in front of a background depicting a misty forest. “I think my father has a similar scar.” She forced a smile. “But, I’ve never actually met him. He got his in a fight, I heard.”

Mark turned on a high powered fan. “Sounds like a bad ass.”

She shrugged. “What would you like me to do?”

“Act sexy and stop talking.”

Act sexy? One of the few things she had no idea how to do. She pursed her lips and lifted her hair from her neck while he snapped pictures. This was getting them nowhere.

“Have you been a photographer long? Do you have a portfolio?” She did her best to act empty-headed and flirtatious.

“Why are you talking to me?” Mark’s friendly demeanor faded to be replaced with anger. “Don’t I repulse you?”

She stopped moving. “No, should you?”

“The acne pits and scar doesn’t turn you off?”

“No one is perfect, Mark. Some people’s scars can’t be seen.”

“You seem to be perfect.” He snapped another picture, then glanced at the mirror on the wall.

Cassidy smiled and approached the mirror, holding her fingertip to the glass. Ah ha. A two-way mirror. She turned. “Tell my father to come out and speak to me.”

Mark’s eyes widened.

The lights cut off.

“I need back up!” Cassidy called.

A door slammed somewhere in the dark.

She grappled for something to use as a weapon, her hand closing on the camera tripod. It would work in a pinch. She clutched it in one hand as she searched with the other for the changing screen. Her holster and gun hung on a hook just inside…there. She dropped the tripod and clutched the gun as the lights flickered back on.

Colin raced toward her, grabbed her arm, and tried to drag her from the building. “Let’s get you safe.”

“Wait.” She grabbed her clothes. “It’s the only suit I have.”

They dashed outside as a dark-colored sedan sped away.

Cassidy groaned. “He wasn’t Draco, but the man was there. That mirror is a two-way. What kind of game is he playing?”

Colin’s gaze warmed as it raked over her. “You look very beautiful.”

“Stop it. We’re working.”

~

Colin had listened to the recording coming clear through the wire Cassidy wore with interest. Realizing that Mark the photographer was not Draco The Dragon had been a brilliant move. “I don’t know what game he’s playing, but he’s trying to get you to do something.”

“He needs to face me and stop wasting our time.” She leaned against the jeep as the FBI agents exited the building.

“I thought you looked good in a suit,” Ingram said, grinning. “But, this…ooh, la la.”

“Let’s hurry this up so I can go home and change.” Cassidy scowled. “Did you find anything?”

“A door behind the backdrop. That’s how he got away. Good move on asking him about Draco. He also took the camera with him. Looks like dear old Dad wanted photos of his darling daughter.”

“Let’s go.” Cassidy opened the door to the jeep. “I left Rosie at home and it feels weird without her.”

Colin joined her. The agents would finish with the scene, as always. All Colin and Cassidy were good for was doing the grunt work. “Do you feel as if tonight was a waste of time?”

She shook her head. “We discovered that Draco does, indeed, have others working with or for him. I say that’s a huge discovery.”

They only needed to figure out what to do with the information. Colin started the ignition. “I think you were supposed to think Mark was Draco.”

“He’s not old enough or sure enough of himself. I figured out Draco was there by the way Mark’s eyes kept darting toward the mirror.” She propped her bare feet on the dashboard. “Draco wanted to see whether he could pull my strings. Fine. I’ll play along. Maybe by doing so, we can prevent more deaths.”

“I agree.” But, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. It was a dangerous game. One that could get them all killed.

He cut a sideways glance at the beautiful woman next to him. What were the thoughts and feelings running through her head? They had to be momentous. Finding out your father might be a serial killer had to do things to her head. He reached over and grasped her hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She stared out the window.

“It’s okay to not be fine.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

She pulled it away. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, Colin. Leave it alone. I’ll deal with it all once this maniac is behind bars.”

“Don’t push me away. I can help you through this.” He’d do whatever it took to keep her safe, help her sort out the information that had to have her reeling.

They stopped at a stop sign. He grabbed her hand again and pulled her close, staring into eyes illuminated by the street light.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“Oh, but I’m going to. You need something else to think about.” He pulled her a little closer.

“No.”

“Yes.” He moved his hand to the back of her head and placed his lips on hers. Gently, like a trainer would touch a skittish horse. He deepened the kiss, cupping her face.

She moaned and put her arms around his neck.

A horn honked behind them, pulling them out of the increasingly heated moment.

Cassidy jerked as if stung. “I can’t do this. You can’t distract me this way.”

He chuckled. “I think I can.” He pulled away from the stop sign, fully intending to continue distracting her from the myriad of problems running through her mind. She needed to focus on one thing—catching Draco. Their biological relationship needed to take a backseat right now.

If she sunk into a depressed state, which Colin suspected she was headed toward, they’d accomplish nothing.

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