Terrorbyte (38 page)

“Do you have any suspects?”

“Only you,” Darren replied.

Caine bristled. “SSA Conway was not involved in this unfortunate incident.”

“I'm not in the habit of killing my friends and I sure as hell wouldn't beat someone to a pulp then call police,” I muttered at Darren. “And I don't wear combat boots. You find a shemagh anywhere? Are my eyes different colors?”

He shook his head.

“We only have the description you gave. My officers weren't able to confirm it with the deceased.”

“You need to look elsewhere.”

“I'm starting with what's in front of me,” Darren replied.

It felt as though he wanted me to be involved. My annoyance intensified. “What else do you have or are you content to waste time with me?”

“Did Cassandra have a partner? A boyfriend? Anyone she's been dating?”

Nothing then.

“No one permanent. She dated a guy from Alexandria a few times but said it wasn't going anywhere.” My brain started to kick in. “Have you looked for her day planner – his phone number will be in there.”

“There was no day planner that we've found.”

“It might be in her car. Or maybe she uses her laptop as a day planner. That's in her home office.”

My cell phone chirped. I looked at the screen. Chrissy. I looked at my clothes. Blood soaked. Time to go home and shower.

“I have to go. I'll write my statement tonight and email it to you.” I took my card from my pocket and handed it to Reid. “You can reach me anytime. Keep me informed.”

He shook my hand. “Don't leave the country.”

“If I were you I'd start checking for bugs and wireless cameras. Something is not right here,” I said, barely keeping a nasty edge from my voice.

“You Fed's think everything is about terrorists and spies,” he scoffed.

“I'll walk you out,” Caine said, turning me toward the door before I could snap a retort at Reid. My hand strayed to my hip. My fingers brushed the grip of my Glock. It took real will power to shove my hand in my pocket and not decorate the room with Reid's blood.

“Is he for real?” I snarled at Caine as we stood on the driveway. “Don't leave the country; it's all about terrorists and spies. Who the does that fucktard think he's dealing with?”

“I'll handle him.”

“Thanks.” I looked at him. “Cassie was a federal employee – can Delta B investigate?”

I knew Delta A couldn't. It'd be like investigating a family member's murder. Not good to be so close.

“No reason why we can't run a parallel investigation. I have the impression you are not filled with confidence by Mac's old buddy?”

“Nope.”

“You sure you're okay?”

Hell no.

I avoided the question. “I gotta go clean up and visit a high school.”

Cat lives in Upper Hutt, New Zealand, with her husband and the youngest three of their seven children. She is a long time member of Backspace.org, (an online writers group). Cat is very active on MySpace, as are her two main characters (Ellie Conway and Mac Connelly), which is proving to be a lot of fun. In the last few years her short stories have appeared in ThrillerUK, Mystericale, Bewildering stories, T-zero, The Writers Post Journal and Conceit Magazine. Currently Bewildering Stories are considering another of her shorts.

The idea for her first Conway novel, Killerbyte, came about after Cat received a string of death threats while co-running a poetry chat room, back in the days of MSN chat. The thought that people could get so nasty online fascinated her. The second novel, Terrorbyte, grew from a conversation about living with a mentally ill parent with the real life model for Mac Connelly.

Cat worked in a voluntary capacity for the Police, for five years, going out on late-night patrols, learning and implementing surveillance techniques, and even wangling her way into search and seizure operations, etc. This provided a great source of information for her writing (and still does). She carried out extensive research of locations and procedures (picking the brain of a Special Agent friend), including having friends visit and document the locations she chose – in Virginia.