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Scene of the Crime: Black Creek
Carla Cassidy
Baiting a serial killer is risky enough. But FBI Special Agent Mick McCane knows he's in real trouble when he and by-the-book Cassie Miller have to pose as loving newlyweds to do it.Ever since their one sizzling night together, she's determined to keep their relationship strictly business–even as an undeniable attraction pulls them deeper into their undercover personas. Then their real identities are discovered and the hunters become the hunted. Now, the only way for Mick to protect the woman he can't live without is to sacrifice the life he was used to putting on the line–and the badge he never thought he'd have to.


BANG, BANG BRIDE AND GROOM
Baiting a serial killer is risky enough. But FBI Special Agent Mick McCane knows he’s in real trouble when he and by-the-book Cassie Miller have to pose as loving newlyweds to do it. Ever since their one sizzling night together, she’s determined to keep their relationship strictly business—even as an undeniable attraction pulls them deeper into their undercover personas. Then their real identities are discovered and the hunters become the hunted. Now, the only way for Mick to protect the woman he can’t live without is to sacrifice the life he was used to putting on the line—and the badge he never thought he’d have to.
“You need to relax,” Mick murmured softly in Cassie’s ear.
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, Mick slung an arm around her shoulder, instantly rewarded by Cassie stiffening against him. “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.”
Cassie looked at him, her blue eyes simmering with emotions he couldn’t begin to discern. “Sorry.” She drew a deep breath and her body relaxed. Her gaze softened as her lips curled into a smile that instantly fired a ball of heat in the pit of Mick’s stomach. “Better?” she asked.
He was almost breathless....

Scene of the Crime: Black Creek
Carla Cassidy


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Carla Cassidy is an award-winning author who has written more than fifty novels for Harlequin Books. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews.
Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Cassie Miller—The lovely FBI agent dislikes three things—chaos, spontaneity and Special Agent Mick McCane—and now she must endure a pretend marriage to him in order to catch a killer.
Mick McCane—He’s never forgotten the night of passion he shared with Cassie and now he not only has to play the role of pretend husband to her, but also keep her safe from a serial killer.
Derrick Dark—A member of the founding family of Black Creek and a man with a motive for murder.
Jimbo Majors—A teenager with a simmering rage. Had that rage exploded, resulting in two couples dead in their honeymoon suites?
Sheriff Ed Lambert—Did the lawman long for the good old days and had that yearning become a dark obsession?
Jack Bailey—A homegrown thug with a reputation for violence.
Contents
Chapter One (#u22eaca3c-b21d-5fd9-9ffd-f70edcb78de8)
Chapter Two (#u7b3daf98-8018-5ef1-bad2-75cd2f593d35)
Chapter Three (#u8a8b6e0e-c19a-52a9-9095-0811296bb7b0)
Chapter Four (#ub9241a37-d2dc-5657-8ed4-c46a2f069489)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Cassie Miller’s low-heeled pumps clicked rhythmically against the tile floor of the hallway that led to her boss’s office. For a special agent with the FBI, a summons to Director Forbes’s office usually brought with it both an edge of excitement and a faint flutter of dread.
Cassie’s excitement far outweighed any dread, for she couldn’t imagine anything she’d done that might have gotten her in trouble. In fact, for the nearly year she’d been assigned to the Kansas City, Missouri, field office she’d never come close to being reprimanded. Cassie made it a point to play by the rules.
She was more than ready for a new assignment. It had been months since she’d done anything more than push papers and read through cold case files for a fresh perspective. She was definitely chomping at the bit for some action.
She paused and straightened her white blouse collar beneath the lightweight navy blue jacket, then self-consciously ran a hand down her pencil-thin navy skirt to make sure it was wrinkle-free. She liked to put her best foot forward when going in front of her boss.
As she began to walk again, her steps faltered slightly. She saw the man approaching the office from the opposite direction. He was clad in tight blue jeans and a navy T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. He carried himself with a loose-hipped gait that instantly spoke of self-confidence and perhaps a touch of arrogance.
There were three things in Cassie’s life that she disliked: chaos, spontaneity and the slamming-hot man approaching in her direction, Special Agent Mick McCane.
As he cast her the lazy, sexy grin that danced lightly in the depths of his green eyes and had over half the women in the building in complete lust with him, her stomach muscles kinked into a tight knot.
Please don’t be going where I’m going, she thought.
She had spent the past six months of her life trying to avoid being anywhere near Mick. She’d spent the past six months trying to forget the one night when control had slipped away from her and she’d allowed spontaneity a night of freedom.
Her heart clunked to her feet as Mick pulled open the door that led to the director’s office. “Afternoon, Cassie.” He said her name like it was something exceedingly pleasant on his lips.
“Agent McCane,” she replied stiffly. She swept through the door, acutely aware of him following right behind her.
Adrianne Warsaw, the secretary to the director, looked up and smiled. “Ah, good, you’re both here. He’s waiting for you.” She gestured toward the closed door that led to the inner sanctum.
Once again it was Mick who opened the door to usher Cassie inside. She gritted her teeth, smelling his familiar cologne, a spice scent that whispered of something slightly wild and wonderful.
“Agent Miller, Agent McCane.” Director Forbes gestured them into the two chairs in front of his massive mahogany desk. “Black Creek, Arkansas,” he said when both of them were seated.
Cassie frowned, trying to keep her focus solely on the steel-gray-haired man in front of her instead of the sexy dark-haired man seated far too close to her. “Never heard of it,” she replied.
“It’s west of Hot Springs, Arkansas, in the Ouachita Mountains. Five years ago it wasn’t even a dot on the map, now the mayor is working to have it renamed Honeymoon Haven, the honeymoon capital of this region.” Director Forbes leaned forward. “Over the last couple of years the town has exploded with cute little cabins and bed-and-breakfast places, restaurants and shops that cater to the newly wed. It’s become a fairly profitable tourist town, and the mayor wants to keep it that way.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Mick asked. He leaned back in his chair, looking as relaxed as if he were sunning himself on the beach.
“Two honeymooning couples murdered in the last month.” Forbes leaned back in his chair, his frown cutting a vertical slash in the center of his broad forehead. “We’ve been contacted by the local sheriff, Edward Lambert, along with Mayor John Jamison, requesting help with the situation.”
A ripple of relief swept through Cassie. It was always easier to work a case when you had the blessings of the locals. Although she didn’t want to believe that she’d be working this case with Mick, there was nothing else for her to think with him sitting right next to her and hearing the same information that she was hearing.
“They’ve managed to keep the murders quiet for the time being, but there’s no question that if word of this gets into the media their main source of income from the tourism trade will dry up. Naturally they’re both concerned about the murders as well and don’t want any more taking place, but because of the similarities of the crime scenes, they don’t believe the unsub is finished there.”
“Couples murdered…does that mean we’re looking at a team of killers?” Mick asked as he sat up straighter in his chair.
“Sheriff Lambert is sure that both couples were murdered by the same person or persons. But at this point it’s unclear if we’re looking at one or more than one person committing the crimes.”
Forbes patted two manila folders in the center of his desk. “I have all of the reports and crime-scene photos here, a copy for each of you. The sheriff faxed me over everything he had on the two cases.”
Cassie tried not to think about the victims. Honeymooners, just beginning their lives together. If she allowed herself to think about them in that way then emotions would emerge, and she preferred to remain as objective as possible when working a case. She’d long ago mastered the art of compartmentalization, and it was that skill that made her an efficient and productive agent.
“This killer or killers are particularly nasty pieces of work,” Forbes continued. “Each of the couples was killed between eight and midnight while in their cabins. In both cases the men were shot execution style in the back of their heads and the women were gagged and bound on the bed and stabbed to death.”
“Sexual assault?” Mick asked, no hint now of his legendary charm in his deep voice.
“Negative,” Forbes replied. “Neither woman was sexually assaulted. The coroner report indicates he believes that the men died first and the woman died minutes after, but he admits the timing is so close it could be the other way around.”
She felt Mick’s gaze on her. Despite her effort to the contrary, Cassie’s heart cringed for the victims although she kept her features carefully schooled to show no emotion.
It was obvious she would be working with Mick, and that in and of itself would be a hair-pulling study in frustration, but she would work with the devil himself if it meant stopping a killer.
“Were they killed in the same establishment?” Mick asked.
“No. The first couple was killed at a place called the Wedding Tree Motel. They were staying in unit seven, a secluded little cabin that caters to the needs of a honeymooning couple. They were killed on their fourth night. The second couple had rented a cabin for two weeks at the Bridal Bouquet Honeymoon Cabins. They were murdered on their seventh night there.”
“Different time schedules and different locations. Probably a local.” Mick frowned thoughtfully as Cassie pulled a small notepad and pen from her pocket.
Mick never took notes. It was one of the things that drove her crazy about him. Within hours of him getting any file of material it would be coffee-stained, probably have pizza sauce dripped on it and the pages would be tossed out of order. Mick McCane was chaos on two long, lean legs.
As Director Forbes shared with them some of the other particulars of the crimes, Cassie took copious notes in the spiral notebook that was as much a part of her wardrobe as her sensible cotton underwear.
On the last case they’d worked together Cassie had asked Mick why he didn’t take notes and he’d tapped his temple and stated that all the pertinent information that was needed was carefully stored in his brain. The aggravating part was that he was right. He seemed to have the memory of a computer.
“When do we leave?” Cassie asked, always eager to get away from the quiet, neat apartment where she lived and into the action of a hunt for a killer.
“Tomorrow morning,” Daniel Forbes replied. “It’s been two weeks since the killer struck, so Sheriff Lambert feels another murder is imminent.”
“I’ll bet we can find us some amazing moonshine in that part of the country,” Mick said. “How does a little firewater sound, Cassie?” Forbes shot him a look of indulgent patience while Cassie gave him a cold, caustic stare.
It hadn’t been moonshine that had caused her to completely lose her mind and self-control six months ago. It had been a bottle of Dom Perignon that had made her crazy for Mick, and she’d never forgive herself for that lapse in judgment.
Because she’d liked it.
She’d liked the wild abandon she’d found in his arms, but he was the last man on earth she’d ever want to be with in any kind of a real relationship. She had a feeling that within a month of spending time with him she’d want to take out her service revolver and shoot him or shoot herself.
“So, I’m assuming the plan is to meet with Sheriff Lambert the minute we hit town,” Mick said.
“Actually, Sheriff Lambert and I have agreed to approach this in another way,” Forbes replied. “You are to meet the sheriff in a small town called Cobb’s Corners about thirty miles outside of Black Creek.”
Cassie frowned. “I don’t understand.” Normally they went in with guns on hips, flashing badges, and dug straight into the investigation.
“Approach things in a different way how?” Mick asked, voicing Cassie’s next question.
Director Forbes leaned forward once again, his gaze lingering long and hard on Mick, and then he turned to stare at Cassie. “You two worked quite well together on the Samuel case,” he said.
Cassie compressed her lips together to hold back the protest she wanted to voice. No, they hadn’t worked well together. Mick had driven her crazy with his laid-back ways, outrageous flirting and disregard for schedules.
Still, she had to admit that when it came to the actual work process their two different styles had melded together well for success.
“In both of these cases,” Forbes continued, “the victims appear to be a specific physical type. The men were dark-haired, in good shape, and the women were small in stature and blonde.”
Cassie felt a sinking sensation in the middle of her stomach. Surely she was misunderstanding what Forbes had in mind.
“Exactly what is our assignment?” she asked.
“Bait,” Forbes replied.
“Bait?” Cassie parroted and slowly turned to look at Mick.
The corners of his sensual lips turned upward as he gazed at her. “Looks like we’re going to be newlyweds.”
* * *
MICK WATCHED THE COLOR BLANCH from Cassie’s cheeks, although her pale face remained completely emotionless. She wouldn’t show her displeasure at the idea in front of Daniel Forbes. She was too much a professional for that.
Having grown up with three older sisters, Mick had always believed he had a pretty good handle on women, but Cassie Miller had been a mystery from the moment he’d met her seven months before.
She’d come to the Kansas City field office straight from Quantico a year ago and had quickly built a reputation for being intelligent, hard working and a loner.
In the month that Mick had worked with her, he’d found her to be irritatingly obsessive-compulsive, rigid and for some strange reason hotter than hell.
She mystified him like no other woman ever had, and on that night when he’d encouraged her to share a bottle of champagne and they’d wound up in bed, she’d released a passionate wildness that had made him unable to completely forget that night no matter how hard he’d tried.
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.
Cassie reached up and touched a strand of her blond hair and then twisted the unfamiliar wedding ring on her finger. There was no question that she could pass for one of the dead women’s sisters. She hoped the team that had been assigned to watch Mick and her cabin was on top of its game.
She’d never done anything like this before. She’d never gone undercover and certainly not in a situation where she looked like a potential victim.
She glanced over at Mick. “Have you done this sort of thing before? You know, been undercover?”
“Several times. The longest was for four months when I went undercover as a homeless man to find a killer targeting that group of people. What about you?”
“No, I’ve never been undercover,” she replied.
“It’s like being an actor or an actress. You take on the role of the person you’re playing and you eat, sleep and drink it. Are you nervous?”
Cassie hesitated a moment and then finally replied, “Maybe a little bit.”
He nodded, as if satisfied with her reply. “You should be. You have to remember that this isn’t the case of if you don’t play your role right you get fired. This is a role that if you don’t do it right you could either get one of us or somebody else killed. You should be nervous. I’m just hoping you’re up for this challenge.”
“Don’t you worry about me. I’m definitely up for the challenge,” she replied as a new surge of irritation swept through her. Was he questioning her capabilities? She was a trained agent and she knew exactly what was at stake. The last thing she intended to do was screw things up.
* * *
THE CLOSER THEY GOT to Cobb’s Corner, the tighter the anxiety in Mick’s stomach twisted. Initially he’d been disappointed when he’d pulled up and he’d seen Cassie standing in the parking lot as if at attention. She’d looked tense and was dressed like she was going off to take notes at a business meeting.
She would have to work a little harder to take on the persona of a young, beautiful bride on her honeymoon. Most people considered their honeymoons one of the happiest times in their marriages. He wouldn’t know about that, since he’d never married.
He just hoped she was up to the challenge. And this case was definitely going to be a challenge. They had to consciously attempt to catch the attention of a killer or killers.
Physically they both looked the part, but nobody knew for sure exactly what had drawn the killer to those particular couples besides their outward appearances. Had the couples offended somebody in town? Was it possible their physical appearance was just a coincidence and had nothing to do with why they’d been chosen for death?
So many questions, and he hoped that Sheriff Edward Lambert would be able to give them more clarity on the matter. He also hoped the Dew Drop Café served good food. They’d made no stops along the way, it was well after noon, and he was starving.
They’d spoken very little on the trip, other than the first flurry of conversation. Cassie appeared to be one of the most self-contained women he’d ever met. Unlike his sisters, she apparently didn’t feel the need to fill every silence with idle chatter. He liked that about her.
She was hot and quiet, definitely his kind of woman, but he knew better than to go there again. He couldn’t forget the utter contempt she’d shown him after their one night together.
Besides, she possessed other qualities that he knew would make him crazy in a short period of time. He had a feeling she was not only tightly controlled, but also controlling.
Around the office she had the reputation for being Ice Queen material. She didn’t have drinks or meals with other agents. In fact, she didn’t socialize at all with any coworkers.
She was always up for overtime, indicating she had no social life at all and didn’t seem to be looking for a relationship of any kind with any member of the opposite sex despite the fact that he knew she’d just turned thirty years old.
It had been Mick’s experience that most women had a little wedding-bell alarm that rang in their heads by their thirtieth birthday, but Cassie didn’t appear to be the norm. She didn’t seem to possess the desperate “I’m thirty and not married” madness.
“You hungry?” he now asked, breaking the long silence of the trip as they reached the outskirts of the small town of Cobb’s Corners.
“Starving,” she replied, and then pointed out the window to the left. “There it is.”
The Dew Drop Café had a red awning announcing the establishment. It didn’t appear too busy at this time of day and Mick pulled into a parking space directly in front.
“I’m not sure what I’m more eager for, information on the crimes or a big juicy cheeseburger,” he said as he turned off the car engine.
“I definitely know what I’m eager for. Information that will let us get this job done quickly and successfully.” She opened her car door and got out.
Mick did the same, the humid July heat slapping him in the face like a spurned lover. He was grateful for the dorky tourist shirt he wore. At least it was lightweight and breathed.
The Dew Drop Café was less charming inside than it had looked on the outside. The interior paint was old and peeling, the red bar stools sported rips, and the red vinyl booths also showed signs of wear and tear. Even though there were half a dozen people inside it was easy to spot Sheriff Edward Lambert, despite the fact that he wasn’t in uniform.
The older man, with a shock of white hair, sat at the back of the restaurant facing the door, intelligent brown eyes taking in everything and everyone in the room. Those eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of Mick and Cassie.
They approached his table, introductions were made, orders were taken by a waitress and then Cassie excused herself for the restroom.
“Ambience stinks but the food is great,” he said.
“That’s good to know,” Mick replied.
“I wanted to meet you two here instead of someplace in Black Creek so that we can keep this whole operation under wraps,” Lambert said as he wrapped big hands around the coffee mug in front of him. “Even though we’re a tourist trap and are still fighting over what the name of the town is eventually going to be, we’re also a small town where secrets are sometimes hard to keep. This whole thing won’t work if word gets out that the two of you are FBI agents.”
Mick nodded. “I completely agree.” The two men small-talked about the drive and the hot weather and by that time Cassie returned to the table.
“There’s no question that the two of you make the perfect bait physically,” Lambert said.
“Have you figured out if the killer’s trigger is something more than physical appearance?” Cassie asked as she reached out to align the salt and pepper shakers next to each other in the center of the table.
“Nothing so far. What we have learned is that the two couples pretty much followed the same kind of schedules while they were in town. I’ve got a list of places they visited and activities they did. I’ll give you each a copy before we leave here.”
“I read in the file that Jim Armond was an insurance salesman from Oklahoma, and Bill Tanner was a mechanic from Missouri. Any indication that the couples knew each other?” Cassie asked.
“None,” Sheriff Lambert replied. “At least none that we’ve been able to find so far. I’ve got a six-man force, all good men who have been working overtime to figure this out.” He stopped talking as the waitress appeared with their orders.
The decor inside the café might be questionable, but Mick eyed the thick cheeseburger and order of fries in front of him with appreciation. Cassie had ordered a salad, dressing on the side and Ed Lambert had ordered a piece of pie to go along with his coffee.
“I’ve got to admit that I’m understaffed and pretty much over my head with these murders,” the sheriff continued as the waitress moved away from the table. “I’ve been understaffed for the last couple of years as the town has gained more of a reputation as a hot spot for honeymooning couples.” He frowned. “When Mayor John Jamison got his bright idea about this Honeymoon Haven nonsense he turned our quaint little town into a mess.”
He paused and took a sip of his coffee. “There’s plenty of money flying around town, but none of it has allowed me to hire on more deputies and the petty crime rate has tripled.”
“Sounds tough,” Mick said.
The older man shrugged. “We do the best we can, but I want to assure you these murders are on the top of our priority list. Unfortunately, they aren’t the only things we can focus on with all my manpower. Your boss has assigned another couple to help with the investigation. They’ll be staying at the Super Eight Motel just north of town. Director Forbes indicated they would be your contact if you stumble across any information that might be useful.”
“Their names?” Mick asked.
“Agents Rick Burgess and David Ellsworth. They’ll be working with me and my team, but flying under the radar. The mayor is insistent that we keep this all as low-key as possible. Needless to say, we’re not eager for any publicity concerning the murders.”
Mick nodded. He was glad to know there were two agents working with the sheriff. He knew both agents, had worked cases with them before and trusted them. He had cell phone numbers for both of them and would check in with them once he and Cassie got settled in town.
“Your tech support team arrived this morning,” Ed continued. “Three men checked into the cabin next to yours. They let me know that they had their audio in place and were ready for your arrival.”
“Audio?” Cassie looked from the sheriff to Mick, who shrugged.
“According to the agent I spoke to early this morning they have placed listening devices in the room where you’ll be staying. They’ll be able to hear anything that happens, but also told me to let you know they didn’t bug the bathroom.”
Mick smiled at Cassie. “That means if you decide to verbally abuse me it will be all over headquarters before the day is over.”
“I have no intention of verbally abusing you,” she replied with a flash of her brilliant blue eyes. “Unless you need it,” she added under her breath.
Sheriff Lambert cleared his throat. “The good news is that if somehow, someway, the killer gets into your premises, your agents will hear everything that is going on and can get inside within seconds.”
Cassie’s eyes turned somber and Mick wondered if she’d really considered how badly this assignment could go. They were intentionally putting themselves in the direct path of a killer or killers. If the killer did manage to get into their room it would only take him seconds to shoot Mick and stab Cassie.
What Mick had no intention of telling her was that while he was being hunted, he intended to do a little hunting of his own. Although their job was merely to act the part of newlyweds, to draw the attention of the killer and allow their support team to make an arrest, Mick would investigate independently to find the killer. Even knowing Burgess and Ellsworth were assigned to the case wouldn’t stop him from working on his own.
He wasn’t about to get trapped in a honeymoon cabin with a killer and depend on a team to rescue him. He’d find the killer long before the game went on that long.
He’d only been blindsided once in his life, and that had been by a woman with blue eyes and a dark soul. He’d never let a woman close to him again, and he wasn’t about to allow a killer to get the upper hand on him either.
Chapter Three
It was just after three-thirty when Mick and Cassie were back in the car and headed toward Black Creek, aka Honeymoon Haven.
Cassie pulled out the list of the places the murdered honeymooning couples had visited before their deaths and stared at it in horror. Drinks by the pool, hot springs treatments at the local spa, candlelight dinners and a romantic canoe trip down Black River, and throughout it all she would have to pretend that she was madly, desperately in love with her husband, Mick. If she could pull this off, she’d deserve an Academy Award.
She cast him a surreptitious glance. He appeared to be so relaxed, as if they were taking a vacation rather than putting their lives on the line to catch a killer.
There was a part of Cassie that wasn’t afraid of death, times when she woke up in the middle of the night vaguely surprised that she had managed to survive the madness of her childhood.
No, she wasn’t afraid of dying, but she was afraid of not doing her job properly, of somehow screwing up and letting a killer continue his work or getting somebody else killed by her carelessness.
Gazing out the window, she noticed the road they traveled was narrow and winding through the Arkansas hilly landscape. The scenery was breathtaking. Tall trees crowded the sides of the roads while woods parted occasionally to show a glimpse of bubbling streams sparkling in the bright sunshine.
She knew what she’d signed up for, she knew they were headed to a place called the Sweetheart Suites where there would be one big bed for them both to share, one small space for them both to maneuver.
Still, the closer they got to Black Creek the more real everything became for her. She hadn’t shared a bed with a man for any reason in a while. The last time had been eight years ago when she’d been dating Glen Morrow.
Glen had been a nice man, but by the end of the relationship things had gotten strained between them. Glen had finally broken it off, telling her that she had too many control issues for him to handle, that she made it impossible for anyone to love her.
Cassie had been secretly relieved. The sex had been okay, the companionship had been nice most of the time, but she hadn’t been in love with Glen and she certainly hadn’t been looking for marriage or children. She knew her limitations and she knew that inviting people into her life brought the kind of chaos she didn’t want or need.
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?
She knew the door was locked and both she and Mick had their service revolvers on the nightstands on either side of the bed. If somebody came through the door they’d be faced with the business end of two guns and the additional support of the three agents in the next cottage.
Then there was the issue of the physical contact with Mick throughout the afternoon and evening. It had been difficult. Each touch of his hand had evoked memories of what they’d shared that single night six months before.
She didn’t want to think about that night, when for a brief moment in his arms she’d finally felt at home, that she was where she belonged. It had been a feeling meant to fool her, to beckon her to let down her guard. And that would be a huge mistake.

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