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Person of Interest
Debby Giusti


WOMAN ON THE RUNWhile babysitting a young servicewoman's infant, Natalie Frazier hears a murder in the neighboring army duplex. Convinced her former commander is behind the crime, the ex-soldier bolts with the baby. But who will believe her story? Army investigator Everett Kohl deals only with the facts, but this time his gut instincts can't be denied. Is the attractive Natalie a cunning killer, as his ranking officers believe, or an innocent victim? Ordered to bring her in, Everett has a decision to make. Helping her could cost him his job…but not protecting Natalie and the baby could get all of them killed…Military Investigations: Serving their country and solving crimes







WOMAN ON THE RUN

While babysitting a young servicewoman’s infant, Natalie Frazier hears a murder in the neighboring army duplex. Convinced her former commander is behind the crime, the ex-soldier bolts with the baby. But who will believe her story? Army investigator Everett Kohl deals only with the facts, but this time his gut instincts can’t be denied. Is the attractive Natalie a cunning killer, as his ranking officers believe, or an innocent victim? Ordered to bring her in, Everett has a decision to make. Helping her could cost him his job…but not protecting Natalie and the baby could get all of them killed…

Military Investigations: Serving their country and solving crimes


“Keep your head down.”

Everett pulled off the roadway onto a dirt path. “We’re being followed.”

It’s him. The killer. She didn’t give voice to her suspicion. Couldn’t.

He stopped behind a thick stand of trees. “Stay here. I’ll go check.”

Seconds after he disappeared into the woods, brakes squealed in the distance. Cuddling the baby tighter, she heard a crack of a gunshot cut through the stillness.

A lump of fear filled her throat.

No. Surely Everett hadn’t been shot. Then a new realization hit her. The shooter could follow the tire tracks. She and the baby were easy prey.

She stepped from the car and ran, clutching the baby close.

Leaves rustled behind her. Footfalls came closer. Her toe caught, she started to fall and someone grabbed her.

“I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t the killer, but Everett.


DEBBY GIUSTI is an award-winning Christian author who met and married her military husband at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful children and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of mystery and suspense that touch the heart and soul. Visit Debby online at debbygiusti.com (http://www.debbygiusti.com); blog with her at seekerville.blogspot.com (http://www.seekerville.blogspot.com) and craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com (http://www.craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com); and email her at Debby@DebbyGiusti.com.


Person of Interest

Debby Giusti






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


I love you, Lord, my strength,

Lord, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer,

My God, my rock of refuge,

my shield, my saving horn, my stronghold!

—Psalms 18:2


In thanksgiving for

The Seekers

My twelve Sisters in Christ

who spread God’s message of

love and mercy

through their wonderful stories.

I give thanks to my God at every remembrance of you.

—Philippians 1:3

Tina Radcliffe

Mary Connealy

Janet Dean

Audra Harders

Ruth Logan Herne

Pam Hillman

Cara Lynn James

Myra Johnson

Glynna Kaye

Sandra Leesmith

Julie Lessman

Missy Tippens


Contents

Cover (#u85e19029-f3da-5fef-8a7c-308006704af8)

Back Cover Text (#ue420c2c6-05aa-580e-ae8e-3baed1b5b227)

Introduction (#ubddc8530-f361-56a4-ab6b-220e8dce42a9)

About the Author (#u0266deb7-5e20-57a4-8e5e-d5eb33503713)

Title Page (#u127df78c-f36f-5f78-9f89-200eb602effd)

Bible Verse (#ucbcb85d4-7c3c-5a0a-9906-e20ecdffb31a)

Dedication (#u9016c473-6774-5537-9b64-2317390f3151)

ONE (#ud7d09058-0426-53f5-b460-d67842ca1e86)

TWO (#uff201794-0aa9-5b47-b672-78a39d7fb49e)

THREE (#u33799a91-948a-51eb-98a8-5610329ea09c)

FOUR (#u6194ae1a-98ad-577d-8c2a-0eadc476e7b8)

FIVE (#u65a10050-ed6e-57ee-b778-4a541959bc6e)

SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


ONE (#ulink_fed62d02-e473-5bca-a11c-1d684606b011)

Natalie Frazier’s heart raced as she woke with a start and struggled to get her bearings. Blinking her way back to reality, she recognized the Joneses’ living room on post at Fort Rickman, Georgia, instead of her own apartment in nearby Freemont.

Outside, wind tangled through the giant oaks. Branches creaked in the September night and scraped against the two-story brick quarters. The sound added to her unease as lightning flashed through the windows, followed by thunder that buffeted the house.

She closed the book that lay open on her lap and hesitated, listening for the baby’s cry. Relieved that the little one hadn’t awakened, she placed the textbook on the coffee table. How to Manage the Middle School Classroom was required reading for her teaching degree and had undoubtedly lulled her to sleep.

But what had awakened her?

Natalie had accepted the two-week nanny position caring for Lieutenant Wanda Jones’s five-month-old daughter while Wanda was away for training, and she planned to use the time to catch up on her classwork.

As prior military, with six years on active duty under her belt, Natalie was usually unfazed by new circumstances. Tonight was different.

In hopes of calming her anxiety, she hurried into the foyer and insured the front door was locked before she stepped to the nearby window. Easing back the curtain, she stared for a long moment at the narrow, two-lane road that ran through the military housing area. A porch light from one of the duplexes across the street cast a yellow glow over the few cars parked at the curb.

Dropping the curtain, she flexed her shoulders to allay the tension in her neck and padded across the hardwood floor to the kitchen. The small, cozy room had seemed inviting this morning when she’d arrived. Wanda had coffee brewing and warm-from-the-oven cinnamon rolls to welcome her. The scent of the fresh brew and hot rolls had long since disappeared, leaving behind an emptiness that tugged at her heart. She and the baby were safe, yet something about the night was unsettling. Probably the darkness outside and the encroaching storm. Both caused her concern.

Opening the door to the attached one-car garage, she stared into the interior, seeing only her small sedan. Convinced her imagination was playing tricks on her, she shut the door and slipped the chain lock in place before she flipped off the kitchen light and retraced her steps into the main living-dining room combination.

She needed to check on Sofia. Natalie climbed the steep wooden stairway to the second floor and tiptoed into the nursery. The little one was asleep on her back, her cheeks plump and rosy.

Wanda had been concerned about leaving. With her husband—Sofia’s father—deployed to the Middle East, the female lieutenant had weighed accepting a two-week school assignment at Fort Hood that was good for her military career but hard on a new mom forced to leave her infant daughter.

Natalie and Wanda had been stationed together in Germany and had reconnected after Natalie had moved to nearby Freemont. Natalie was happy to help, and the arrangement would be good for both of them. Wanda needed child care, and Natalie wanted time to study away from her cramped apartment and moody roommate.

Denise Lang had become increasingly irritable over the past two months. Natalie blamed her roommate’s new boyfriend, who insisted Denise keep their relationship under wraps. The secrecy was taking a toll on her and impacted her relationship with Natalie.

Pulling the receiving blanket up around Sofia’s shoulders, Natalie smiled at the precious child and returned to the hallway on her way to the guest room. The sound of raised voices from the adjoining quarters next door stopped her at the top of the stairs.

She should have asked Wanda about the neighbors. All she’d provided had been the woman’s first name and her phone number. Natalie didn’t even know the couple’s last name. Surely the bickering wasn’t a regular occurrence.

Thunder rolled overhead, and rain drummed against the roof. The voices grew louder as the storm intensified. Although the shared wall between the two sets of quarters prevented Natalie from understanding what was said, the harsh tones signaled escalating conflict.

A woman screamed.

Something crashed against the wall.

Natalie gasped and took a step back. Her pulse raced.

Another crash and a second scream were followed by a series of thumps as if something—or someone—had fallen down the stairway.

Heart in her throat, Natalie checked again to be certain Sofia was asleep before she ran downstairs and opened the front door. The storm had unleashed its fury with strong winds and torrential rain. Her voice of reason told her to stay dry and mind her own business, but her need to help overrode the warning.

Ignoring the deluge, she raced next door and climbed the steps to the neighbor’s porch. In her haste, she slipped, then steadied herself and pounded on the door.

“Is someone hurt?”

Feeling exposed, she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the neighbors spilling from the quarters across the street. As loud as the woman’s scream had been, they should have heard her, as well. Another clap of thunder made her realize the woman’s cries had been masked by the storm.

Again, Natalie knocked and raised her voice. “Do you need help?”

The door remained closed.

Envisioning a tragic scene inside, she hurried back to the Joneses’ quarters, wiped the rain from her face and reached for the phone. Her hands shook as she searched through the list of emergency numbers Wanda had left. Finding the military police, she tapped in the digits and waited impatiently for someone to answer, then explained the situation.

“I’ll send a squad car,” the MP said.

“Hurry.”

* * *

Everett Kohl shoved his travel toiletry kit into his duffel and zipped it shut with a smile. Tomorrow he’d be heading to North Georgia for two weeks of R&R and a chance to help Uncle Harry get his mountain cabin ready to put on the market to sell. Everett had half a notion to buy the place himself. But, first, he wanted to assess the structure and tend to the repairs that needed to be done.

Much as he loved his uncle, Harry’s age and stubbornness could be a problem, especially since he was trading the North Georgia mountains for an assisted-living complex in the metro Atlanta area. The timing was right, but his uncle saw it as losing his independence and a way of life he had enjoyed for over eighty years. Everett hoped to soothe the transition and ease his uncle’s concerns about the change.

Grateful the rain had stopped and the storm subsided, Everett whistled as he hurried to his SUV and threw his duffel in the rear. Nothing would delay him in the morning. He’d packed, filled his gas tank and was ready to lock up his bachelor officer’s quarters and drive north.

Retracing his steps, he checked his watch. Almost midnight. He’d catch some shut-eye and rise before dawn to skirt the morning traffic in Atlanta, two hours north, on his way to the mountains.

He entered his BOQ apartment just as his cell rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw Special Agent Frank Gallagher’s name displayed. The chief was out of town and Frank was in charge.

“I’ve already signed out on leave,” Everett said in lieu of a greeting.

“We’ve got an incident that needs your finesse.”

“You say the nicest things, but buttering me up won’t work. The next trip I take will be out the front gate in the morning. I’ll wave as I pass CID Headquarters on my way off post.”

“The military police just called with a heads-up. Someone reported hearing a domestic squabble at Mason Yates’s quarters.”

Everett groaned inwardly and shoved the cell closer to his ear. Domestic violence was never pretty and especially troublesome when a fellow agent was involved. “I’m listening.”

“A woman named Natalie Frazier heard arguing coming from the other side of her duplex and called in the report. I told the MP we’d check it out, but I can’t believe Mason would hurt his wife. If it’s bogus, we go home relieved that his name doesn’t end up on the commanding general’s desk tomorrow morning.”

“We owe the MPs for contacting us.”

“Exactly. Call me optimistic, but I’m hoping the neighbor’s imagination was working overtime due to the storm. If it’s a mistaken call, you’ll be home sawing logs before you can say ‘take care of our own’ three times.”

“Give me the address, I’ll meet you there.”

Frank provided the street and quarters number.

“Didn’t Mason move into military housing a few weeks ago?” Everett remembered the newcomer talking about signing for quarters.

“Three weeks to be exact. As I recall, his wife stayed with his sister in Decatur, Georgia, until quarters were available.”

Everett had arrived at Fort Rickman six months earlier, so he wasn’t an old-timer on post. He and Frank had been stationed together years earlier, along with Special Agent Colby Voss, which had made his transition to Fort Rickman an easy one.

Mason reported to post eight weeks ago. Since then, he had seemed withdrawn and less than willing to join in the office camaraderie that often relieved the stress of working long hours on felony cases for the military. Probably a loner by nature or maybe a bit aloof. That he outranked the other special agents might have bearing on his attitude, especially if he hoped to step into the chief’s shoes. Chief Agent-in-Charge Craig Wilson had led the CID office at Fort Rickman for nearly three years. Even if Uncle Sam considered him ready for a new assignment, no one wanted the chief to be reassigned.

Mason was an unknown, which gave Everett pause.

“I’m trusting this ends well,” he said in closing.

“Agreed,” Frank added. “I’ll meet you there.”

The housing area wasn’t far, and Everett was the first to arrive. He pulled to the curb and spotted headlights in his rearview mirror, then stepped out and waited for Frank.

“The report came from that side of the duplex,” Frank pointed to Quarters A. “Let’s talk to Mason before we question the neighbor.” Frank was the lead on this call, with Everett along as another set of eyes if need be.

Both agents climbed the front steps. Frank knocked on the door. “Special Agent Frank Gallagher, CID.” He glanced at Everett before adding. “Mason, it’s Frank. Everett’s with me. Everything okay?”

He tapped the door again.

Everett glanced at the duplex across the street. A light went on in an upstairs window.

“I’ll check the rear.” Starting down the steps, he heard a door creak open and turned to find the neighbor in Quarters A standing backlit in her doorway.

Long, shoulder-length black hair, slender build. Probably 110 to 115 pounds and five-four or five-five.

She stepped onto the porch. Oval face, big eyes drawn with concern, her mouth angled downward in a frown.

“We’re with the CID, ma’am. I’m Special Agent Kohl,” he said as introduction. “You called in the report?”

She glanced at her watch. “About fifteen minutes ago. I haven’t heard anything since then.”

“What did you hear earlier?”

“Raised voices and two screams, followed by thumping, as if someone had fallen down the stairs.”

Everett nodded. “Wait inside, ma’am. I’ll need more information after we make contact with the residents.”

Walking through the wet grass, he rounded the house, flicking his gaze over the large side yard and the rear access road. Headlights signaled an approaching vehicle. A dark blue sedan screeched to a stop.

Mason lunged from the car, wearing running shorts and a gray Army T-shirt damp with sweat. Eyes wide, he glanced at Everett, then turned his focus to his quarters.

“It’s Tammy, isn’t it? What happened? Is she hurt?” Breathless, he raced to the back door.

“A neighbor heard screams.” Everett hated being the bearer of bad news.

“She called me, distraught. I heard a voice in the background.” Mason pushed open the door and charged into the kitchen.

Everett followed. Unwashed dishes sat in the sink.

“Tammy, where are you?” Mason ran through the living room, then rounded the corner into the foyer. Stopping short, he staggered to brace himself against the wall.

“No!”

Everett’s gut tightened. A woman lay sprawled at the foot of the stairs, her face contorted in death. Blood pooled under her head.

He felt her neck, knowing instinctively he wouldn’t find a pulse.

Mason fell to the floor and reached for his wife, a scream keening from deep within him.

“Don’t touch—” Everett couldn’t warn Mason fast enough.

The husband’s broken sobs echoed in the quarters.

Everett had been at too many crime scenes, but none as wrenching as Mason holding his wife’s lifeless body.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and opened the front door. Frank stepped inside, face tight and eyes brimming with the same emotion Everett felt as they shook their heads with regret. Both special agents were aware of the significance of Mason’s arrival on-site. If he hadn’t been home, then someone else had argued with his wife. Someone who may have pushed or shoved or thrown Tammy Yates down the stairs to her death.

Everett raised his cell and called CID Headquarters. “Notify the military police. We’ll need a crime-scene investigation team, ambulance and the medical examiner.”

Frank patted Mason’s shoulder. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you into the other room. The MPs are on the way along with the ME.”

Mason shook off the attempt to comfort him. “Tammy,” he moaned, pulling his wife even closer into his arms.

“You need to step away from your wife. Remember, we have to preserve evidence if we’re going to catch this guy. Come on, buddy. Let’s head into the other room.”

Mason shrugged out of Frank’s hold and glanced at the open doorway. His face twisted in rage.

“What’s she doing here?”

Everett turned to see the neighbor cover her mouth and muffle a cry of disbelief. Fear flared from her eyes.

“Ma’am, I asked you to remain in your quarters.”

She pointed a finger at Mason, the distraught husband holding his wife’s bloodied body, and screamed.


TWO (#ulink_4818cc36-3265-5753-8c9c-938c6b3d990e)

Natalie ran back to the Joneses’ quarters, unable to take in more of the death scene. The horrendous sight stuck in her mind, and she couldn’t erase the image of the woman lying at the bottom on the stairs.

Seeing who clutched the woman’s bloodied body was even more unsettling. She hadn’t expected Mason Yates to be the neighbor next door. Her stomach rolled, recalling his steely eyes and accusing glare that brought back memories she wanted to forget.

Locking the door behind her, Natalie raced to the downstairs half bath and ran water in the sink. Pumping a large dollop of liquid soap into her palm, she lathered her hands and tried to wash off the blood she kept seeing.

Although she hadn’t entered the Yateses’ quarters, she felt soiled and defiled. Scrubbing with soap and rinsing her hands in the hot tap water did little to change the feeling.

Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror. Black hair, still damp with rain, tumbled around her shoulders in disarray, and her eyes, puffy from her earlier sleep, appeared as anxious as she felt.

Worried about the baby, she dried her hands and raced upstairs, trying to keep her footfalls light. She felt vulnerable, knowing the men on the opposite side of the wall would hear her as she climbed the stairs.

Relieved to find Sofia still asleep, Natalie rubbed the back of her hand over the baby’s soft cheek, needing contact with goodness and purity after what she’d seen.

She shook her head and tried to calm her racing heart, but all she could think of was the woman who had died. Her mouth gaped open as if the scream Natalie had heard had carried down the stairs with her. Death was supposed to be peaceful, but the neighbor’s death had been anything but.

Blood was smeared along the wall and down the stairs, pooling under her head. The sights had brought back too many memories of another woman who had died in Germany. The similarity was frightening.

Hurrying downstairs, Natalie stopped in the foyer and shivered, realizing she was standing in the exact spot where the victim’s body lay in Quarters B. Sirens sounded in the distance, and flashing lights filtered through the gauze curtains.

She glanced out the window. Two military police squad cars pulled to the curb. An ambulance followed. The medical personnel were too late to save the woman and would, instead, transport her body to the morgue.

A knock sounded at the door.

Swallowing the lump that filled her throat, Natalie peered through the peephole. The CID special agent she’d spoken with earlier stood on the porch.

Needing to control her emotions, she ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, thinking of the tangled web into which she’d stepped.

If only she could turn to God, but He’d never taken an interest in her. Not in Detroit growing up, not with a mother whose care bordered on abuse, not with a father who liked the bottle more than he liked his only child. God hadn’t helped her then. He wouldn’t help her now.

Her breath hitched when she opened the door. Earlier, she hadn’t realized how broad the special agent’s shoulders were or the deep brown of his eyes. Even through the screen door, they appeared rimmed with concern. She couldn’t let down her guard, no matter how sympathetic the agent seemed.

She had to be strong and take care of herself.

She’d done it before. She could do it again.

At least, she hoped she could.

Plus, she couldn’t let anything or anyone harm Sofia. The baby’s needs came before her own, and Sofia’s safety was Natalie’s main concern for the next two weeks.

* * *

Despite the tragic crime scene Everett had just left, he couldn’t help but be taken in by the woman who answered his knock at Quarters 324-A. She was pretty, with dark brows and pensive eyes, a slender nose and full cheeks now pale and drawn, like her mouth. Even her shoulders seemed weighted down, no doubt from what she’d seen. Death was never pretty, and Mrs. Yates’s life had come to a traumatic end.

While the ME tended to the body and the crime-scene team looked for evidence, Everett needed to question the neighbor.

Frank was continuing to quiz Mason. He had been running in the training area when his wife had fallen to her death.

In shock and visibly grieving, Mason had been forthcoming about the evening he and Mrs. Yates had spent together. She had prepared a light meal, they had watched a favorite TV show, and soon thereafter, he had left, as he often did, for a nighttime jog. From the many photos displayed in the home, they appeared to have been a loving couple, but things weren’t always as they seemed.

Case in point, the attractive woman staring at Everett through the screen door. She appeared totally confused and upset. Had she seen or heard more than raised voices and thumps against the wall?

Although he had introduced himself earlier, he doubted the woman had focused on his name when she was worried about her neighbor. Again, he held up his badge. Following protocol was always good, especially tonight when a woman had died so tragically.

“Everett Kohl, Criminal Investigation Division. I’d like to ask you some questions.”

She pushed open the screen door. “Come in.”

The house was tidy and nicely furnished with a leather couch and two chairs covered in a flowered pattern.

A number of side tables held pretty knickknacks and photos of a baby. “Your child?”

She shook her head. “Sofia’s the daughter of Lieutenant Terrance Jones and his wife, Wanda. She’s also a lieutenant.”

“You’re visiting the Joneses?”

“I’m the nanny, at least for the next two weeks. Wanda’s TDY at Fort Hood.”

“What about her husband?”

“He’s deployed to Afghanistan.” She pointed him toward the living area. “Shall we sit down? I have a feeling this might take time.”

“Hopefully not too long.” He lowered himself onto the couch. The leather was cool to his touch. He drew a tablet and pen from the pocket of his jacket. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take a few notes.”

“Of course.”

“Let’s start with your name.”

“Natalie Frazier. I’m prior military, served for six years and now live in Freemont.”

“Marital status?”

“I’m single.”

She seemed willing to provide information. A good sign. “You said you were caring for the Joneses’ daughter.”

“That’s right.”

“You work as a nanny?”

“I started this morning as a favor to Wanda. She’s taking an army training class at Fort Hood that begins in a few days and didn’t have anyone to care for her child. I’m finishing the last course for my teaching degree and hope to find a job in the local schools. The nanny position came at the right time.”

He noticed the textbook on the coffee table. “How did you meet Lieutenant Jones?”

“We knew each other in Germany. That was my last duty station. Wanda and I were both taking night classes for our degrees. I transferred back to Fort Rickman, liked the area and decided not to reenlist.”

“And home is?”

She stared at him as if she didn’t understand. “Freemont is currently my home. I live at 2010 Pinegate Circle. You probably want my phone number.”

He nodded, made note of the cell number she provided and then rephrased his earlier question.

“Where was home before the military?

“Where did I grow up?” She hesitated. “I was raised in Detroit.”

The inner city had crumbled over the past decade into a no-man’s land. The suburbs still held on to hope of regeneration, but the downtown looked worse than some of the bombed-out areas in Afghanistan.

As if reading his mind, her voice took on a defensive edge. “I joined the army to make a life for myself, Special Agent Kohl, and I hardly see how where I grew up has bearing on what happened tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He looked down at his notebook. “Let’s go back to this evening. Could you tell me what you heard?”

“Pounding against the wall. A woman screamed twice, followed by a thumping sound.” She crossed her arms and hugged herself as if to find comfort. “It sounded like someone was falling down the stairs.”

“There was a storm,” he prompted. “Lightning, thunder, heavy rain. Could you have mistaken the rumble of thunder for sounds you thought came from the adjoining quarters?”

She bristled. “I know what thunder sounds like.”

“Of course you do.”

Her shoulders sagged and her assuredness ebbed. “I was studying for an exam and had evidently fallen asleep.”

“Here in the living room?”

“That’s right. Something woke me. Maybe the storm. Maybe something else. Like raised voices or a crash against the wall.”

Natalie continued to chronicle what had provoked her call. “I heard voices that escalated into a heated argument, although I couldn’t make out what was being said.”

“Could you determine if the voices were male or female?”

“Not really, although one of them sounded far more aggressive and seemingly male.”

“Seemingly?”

“It was deeper, raised and more insistent. The argument kept escalating. When something crashed against the wall, I immediately thought of domestic abuse.”

“How many times did something crash against the wall?”

“Two times, maybe three.”

He pursed his lips. “You’re not sure?”

“Two hits. Both followed by a scream. I knew something bad was happening.”

“Did you pound on the wall or call out to see if anyone needed help?”

“Not at that point.” She raised her brow as if worried she hadn’t reacted appropriately. “Do you think I should have?”

“Ma’am, I can’t tell you what you should have done.”

She sighed. “I doubt they would have heard me.”

“Then what happened?”

“A series of thumps sounded down the stairs. I knew someone had fallen or had been pushed.”

“Is that when you called the police?”

“First I went outside and banged on their door.”

“Did anyone respond to your knock?”

“Regrettably, no.” She let out a breath. “Common sense took over when I realized how vulnerable I was, especially since I had Sofia and her safety to think about. And I needed to get back here as soon as possible.”

“Did you feel threatened at any time?”

“Not personally, just upset that something tragic had happened.”

“What did you think had happened, ma’am?”

“That the woman had been pushed down the stairs, which seems to be what did happen.”

“That’s one possibility.”

“Surely you don’t think she slipped and fell?”

“Nothing has been ruled out at this point.”

Natalie sat up straighter and squared her slender shoulders. “You work with him, don’t you?”

“Him?”

“Mason Yates. The husband. Isn’t the husband usually the most likely suspect?”

Everett tensed. “There will be an investigation before anyone is charged, if this even was a crime. We’re not sure Special Agent Yates was in the house at the time Mrs. Yates fell.”

“I heard him.”

“You heard a voice—” he glanced at his notes “—a seemingly male voice—through an insulated wall.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t disbelieve you. I’m just getting information. What happened after you knocked on the Yateses’ door?”

“I ran back here and called the military police, and then I waited for someone to arrive, which you did.”

“Did you hear any other noise from the house?”

“No.

“Did you look out the window?”

“I glanced at the street. I had checked the doors to insure they were locked earlier and then relocked the front door when I came back inside.”

“Did you hear a door close anywhere in the area? What about a car engine or a car door slamming?”

“I heard nothing. The storm had passed, and even the rain had stopped by the time you arrived.”

“Did Wanda Jones provide information about her neighbors?”

“Only Mrs. Yates’s first name and phone number. But I recognized Special Agent Yates.”

“How so?”

“I worked for him in Germany for the last six months of my assignment there.”

Everett bit down on his jaw to hold himself in check. He hadn’t expected the connection. Willing his voice to remain calm, he asked, “At CID Headquarters in Vilseck?”

She nodded. “They were short staffed. I worked as a personnel clerk and was brought in to handle paperwork.”

“What was your relationship with Mason Yates in Germany?”

“We didn’t have a relationship. He was a CID agent. I was an E-5 personnel clerk.”

“Did you meet socially?”

“Of course not.”

“Did you work long hours or work together on the weekends?”

She cocked her brow. “I’m not sure where this is headed.”

“I’m just interested in how well you knew Agent Yates.”

“I knew him only as a CID agent, not socially. We hardly talked unless he needed paperwork dealing with personnel.”

“Did you know Mrs. Yates?”

“She came to the office once, as I recall. I was introduced to her.”

“Agent Yates introduced you?’

“I believe so, although I can’t say for sure.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I met a lot of people in Germany. I don’t remember every situation.”

“Did you realize the Yateses lived next door to the Joneses when you accepted the babysitting position?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t even know they had transferred to Fort Rickman.”

“No one notified you from Germany when Special Agent Yates was reassigned?”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me.” She lifted her chin. “I wasn’t aware the Yateses had left Europe.”

“I understand.” He checked his notes. “You mentioned that you couldn’t determine specifically if the voices were male or female. Is that correct?”

“It is.” She hesitated and raised her brow. “Although one of the voices sounded male. It could have been Mason Yates.”

“Could have been or was?”

“I... I’m not sure.”

Everett closed his notebook. He didn’t know what to think about the nanny. She had called in a domestic violence dispute when she talked to the military police, yet according to Mason’s own account, he had been running on a track in the training area. Somewhat unusual to do PT at night, but physical training was important to the military. If Mason liked to run at night, so be it. The track was lit, and a number of soldiers took advantage of the cool evenings to exercise. Video cameras were posted in the area, which would confirm his alibi.

Everett had checked Mason’s cell phone log and found a call from his wife, just as the distraught husband had claimed when he’d leaped from his car and raced toward his house. The wife’s cell log also confirmed that a call had been made, a call that Mason said had spurred him to hurry home.

The husband seemed to be telling the truth, not that Natalie Frazier wasn’t. More than likely, she had heard bickering. If Mason wasn’t at home, then the more aggressive voice she presumed was male had to have belonged to someone else. Someone who had argued with Mrs. Yates and perhaps caused her death.

“Thank you, Ms. Frazier.” Everett stood to leave. “I’ll be in touch.”

“You know where to find me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He dug in his pocket and handed her his business card. “Be sure to call me if you think of anything else.”

He needed to check on the nanny’s tour of duty in Germany and find out how well she knew both Mason and his wife. Her sudden arrival on post the day of Mrs. Yates’s death seemed questionable, especially since she’d worked with Mason.

The air was heavy with humidity as he walked outside. Overhead, a sliver of moon peered through the clouds. Cicadas and tree frogs croaked in the night.

A man hurried across the street. Tall, slender, early thirties. “Mind telling me what’s going on?” he asked, his face drawn with concern.

Everett flashed his CID identification. “Could I have your name, sir?”

“Lieutenant Bobby Slade.” He pointed over his shoulder to the duplex where Everett had seen the light come on earlier. “I live in 325-B. Something bad must have happened.”

“Did you notice anything unusual this evening?”

The guy raked his hand over his short hair and let out a stiff breath. “Unusual.” He thought for a long moment. “No, not really. I noticed a different car parked in the alleyway behind the Yateses’ quarters earlier. Probably a friend.”

“Can you remember the make and model of car?”

He shook his head. “’Fraid not. I didn’t know it would be important. Did someone get hurt?”

“Mrs. Yates fell.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry. If there’s anything my wife or I can do...”

“Why don’t you go back inside, sir. Someone from the military police will want to talk to you later about that car.”

“You mean, the fall wasn’t accidental?”

“We’ll contact you, sir.”

The guy nodded and hurried back to his quarters. An inquisitive neighbor who saw a car in the area. Not much, but Everett made note of the information on his tablet. Sometimes the smallest detail could have bearing on a case.

He raised his cell and called Frank, who answered on the second ring.

“Yeah, Rett. What’s up?”

“We’ve got an inquisitive neighbor across the street. Lieutenant Bobby Slade. Quarters 325-B. The guy saw a car parked behind the Yateses’ home today. You might want the MPs to question him when they do their door-to-door.”

“Is that the reason you called?”

“Negative. I talked to the nanny. Interesting development that I don’t want Mason to overhear.”

“Where are you?”

“On the sidewalk outside.”

Frank chuckled. “Not to worry. Mason’s in the latrine, and I’m in the kitchen out of earshot. What’d you find out?”

“Natalie Frazier is prior service. You’ll never guess her last duty station.”

“Vilseck, Germany,” Frank said. “She worked as a personnel specialist in the CID office.”

“Mason told you?”

“That’s right. He said she was a loner, kind of aloof.”

Which is exactly how Everett would describe Mason.

“He’s grieving, having a hard time putting his thoughts together,” Frank continued. “Seeing Ms. Frazier was a complete surprise. Mason didn’t know she was in the area.”

Everett glanced at the sky. Dark clouds rolled past the moon, blocking its light. “Strange coincidence that she’d show up on post the night Tammy Yates dies.”

“You think she’s involved?”

He sighed. At this point, he didn’t know what to think. “Just wondering how this investigation will play out.”

“Do you still plan to go on leave in the morning?”

“I’ll stick around and give you a hand.”

“Appreciate the help.”

“You stood by me,” Everett said, remembering Frank being there when he’d needed a friend. “I’ll always be grateful.”

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“I should have kept the investigation open, Frank.”

“You were following orders.”

“That doesn’t help me sleep at night.”

Everett disconnected and glanced again at Quarters 324-A. Maybe he was being overly cautious, but he would keep his eye on the attractive nanny. Natalie could be an innocent bystander, or she could play an important role in a murder investigation.


THREE (#ulink_2b65ea7a-0fba-585d-b386-6aa96478550b)

Natalie peered through the window and watched first the ambulance and then one of the two patrol cars pull away from the curb and head out of the housing area. Her head throbbed with tension that had escalated since she’d first awakened on the couch. What would she do if Mason remained behind after the crime-scene team left?

As if in response to her concern, he stepped from his quarters and approached the SUV parked in front of the house. Special Agent Everett Kohl walked next to him and opened the passenger door and shut it with a slam once Mason had climbed inside.

Rounding the front of the vehicle, Special Agent Kohl glanced at the duplex. He hesitated for a long moment, and then as she watched, he walked briskly up the sidewalk and climbed the stairs to the Joneses’ front porch. She opened the door before he knocked.

“Do you have more questions?” Natalie asked.

“I wanted to let you know Special Agent Yates will be staying at the Lodge on post for the next few days. The military police will question the other neighbors either later tonight or in the morning. We’ll follow up on each bit of evidence and information until we get to the truth.”

She appreciated his thoughtfulness. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“You have my card. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you remember anything else.” He paused for a long moment and stared at her through pensive eyes. “You shouldn’t have any problems, but if you feel threatened, just call.”

Natalie reached for his business card that she’d placed on the side table by the door and glanced again at his name and the accompanying phone numbers, unwilling to let him see the confusion she felt. She’d been on her own for so long, taking care of herself, that she didn’t know how to respond. His concern for her well-being touched her, but she couldn’t let down her guard, even if Special Agent Kohl seemed sincere.

Shoving his card into the pocket of her jeans, she willed her expression to remain neutral. “I’ll call if there’s a problem.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response, and returned to his SUV.

Climbing behind the wheel, he started the engine and then stared again at the doorway where she still stood. Mason glanced up from the passenger seat. She couldn’t make out his expression, but she sensed hostility in his gaze. Unwilling to let either man destroy her fragile composure, she closed the door before the car drove away.

A military post was a tight-knit community. News of Mrs. Yates’s death would quickly spread. Natalie didn’t want Wanda Jones to hear about the tragedy from someone else.

Reaching for her cell, Natalie found the number in her contact information and hit Call. Wanda sounded groggy with sleep when she answered.

“Sofia’s fine,” Natalie immediately assured her, “but I wanted you to know about your neighbor.” She recounted what had happened and tried to calm Wanda, who became upset once she heard the news.

“I’m flying home tomorrow.” The mother’s voice bordered on hysteria.

“What about your class?”

“Nothing’s as important as my child. I’ll explain the situation. The instructors will have to understand that I need to be with my baby.”

“Call me after you have your flight information.”

“I don’t feel good about you staying there tonight, Natalie. If someone killed Tammy, what’s to stop them from striking again?”

“I’ve locked the doors. One of the special agents investigating the case gave me his number in case I need help.”

“That’s all well and good, but I want Sofia out of harm’s way. We’ve got a small fishing cabin a few miles north of Freemont. There’s a crib and some baby supplies so you and Sofia should be fine there. Plus, Terrance keeps a rifle in the coat closet. A box of ammo is on the top shelf.”

“Wanda, you’re scaring me.”

“You need to take precautions. I’ll fly home tomorrow and meet you there. The key to the cabin is in the top drawer of the buffet in the dining area. You’ll also find a map with directions.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. You and Sofia will be safe at the cabin. I’ll call you when I have my flight information.”

Wanda’s insistence that she take the baby off post darkened Natalie’s mood even more. Fleeing Fort Rickman didn’t sound like a wise decision, especially this late at night.

To clear her mind, Natalie climbed the stairs to the baby’s room, finding comfort in the sweet innocence of the small infant. Standing at the side of the crib, she gazed down at the baby’s face and tiny hands. Knowing Sofia was completely oblivious to the turmoil that surrounded them tonight brought a sense of calm to Natalie’s unrest.

The house phone rang, causing the baby to stir. Natalie hurried into the master bedroom and reached for the receiver.

“The Joneses’ residence.”

Silence.

She pushed the phone closer to her ear. “Hello?”

No response.

Natalie disconnected. She didn’t need prank calls, especially tonight.

Again the phone rang. She snatched it from the cradle and raised it to her ear.

“Natalie?” A garbled voice, as if the caller were masking his voice.

Could it be Mason? Repulsion filled her.

And fear.

Her heart raced and her hands trembled as she disconnected.

Straightening her shoulders, she strained to draw air into her lungs. Wanda was right. She and Sofia needed to leave post and hide out until the killer was apprehended.

Natalie hurried into the guest bedroom, grateful she hadn’t unpacked earlier today. Grabbing her suitcase and small tote, she dropped both in the hallway and returned to the baby’s room. Wanda had filled a large diaper bag for when Natalie took the child on an outing. Unsure how many supplies she’d find at the cabin, she stuffed even more diapers into the bag and filled a second tote with onesies, sleepers and prepared bottles of formula. Receiving blankets were the final items she included before making two trips downstairs with the luggage and totes.

Peering out the front window, she noticed the last of the emergency responders preparing to leave. As much as she wanted to contact Everett Kohl, the CID was a tight organization. Natalie didn’t stand a chance of changing anyone’s mind about Mason. If only they’d look closer into his wife’s death instead of giving their colleague a free pass.

After placing the bags in her car, she checked the car seat Wanda had helped her install, then hurriedly returned to the house. With a determine sigh, she climbed the stairs and lifted the sleeping baby into her arms. She’d never had her own child, but her maternal instincts kicked into high gear. No one would hurt this baby.

Returning to her car, she settled Sofia into the carrier and attached the harness before she opened the garage door and backed onto the driveway. Glancing at the neighboring homes, she wondered how soon people would be aware of what had happened tonight. Once the MPs made their rounds, the news would spread up and down the street, causing unrest and concern.

Poor Tammy Yates. She didn’t deserve to die. Neither had the woman in Germany.

Natalie hated running scared. She’d run before, from her father’s abusive drunkenness and from a scandal that meant the end of her time in the military. A scandal that had involved Mason. And now, she was running from a murderer.

She thought of Everett Kohl’s strong shoulders and the concern she’d seen in his gaze, and for half a heartbeat, she wished she could turn to him, but common sense won out.

She couldn’t trust Everett Kohl.

She couldn’t trust anyone.

* * *

Everett watched the garage open at the Joneses’ quarters. A red sedan backed onto the driveway. Natalie hurried from the car and lowered the garage door before she drove out of the housing area.

After dropping Mason at the Lodge on post, Everett had circled back to the duplex and parked farther down the street to keep an eye on the two homes. Not that he had expected Natalie Frazier to flee. He had been more concerned for her safety. If someone had broken into the B side of the duplex and killed one woman, the killer could easily return to kill again.

Everett had to insure he didn’t leave a stone unturned. He’d learned his lesson the hard way. The guilt still hung heavy on his shoulders.

He followed the small compact car at a distance as it left post through the Fort Rickman main gate and headed into nearby Freemont. On the far side of town, it stopped at an apartment complex.

Holding the baby in her arms, Natalie unlocked the bottom apartment door and disappeared for a few seconds before returning to the car. Everett made note of the address as she drove away.

Surprised when his cell rang, he saw Frank’s name on the screen. “I was ready to call you,” he said in greeting. “I’m following Natalie Frazier. She’s got the baby and is driving north through Freemont. It appears she’s headed to the interstate. I want to apprehend her before she hits the highway.”

“Negative,” Frank insisted. “Tail her but don’t apprehend. I just called Lieutenant Jones to notify her of her neighbor’s death. The lieutenant had spoken with the nanny earlier and had encouraged her to take the baby someplace safe.”

“Did the mother mention a destination?”

“She talked about a fishing cabin north of Freemont but refused to provide more information. Stay on Ms. Frazier’s tail. I want to know the exact location of the cabin and where that baby is at all times. Lieutenant Jones plans to return to Fort Rickman tomorrow. Once baby and mom are reunited, I’ll breathe a sigh of relief.”

“What about the nanny?”

“Lieutenant Jones is convinced she’ll take good care of her daughter. That’s my hope, as well, but it seems more than a coincidence, as you mentioned, to have her show up on post the day Tammy Yates dies.”

“Natalie made a quick stop at her apartment in Freemont. Might be worth checking.” Everett provided the address.

“Will do. Don’t let her out of your sight. If Mrs. Yates’s death is a homicide, we have a killer on the loose. We don’t need anyone else hurt.”

Everett disconnected. So much for his two-week vacation. Right now, he had to keep tabs on the red sedan and find out where Natalie planned to hole up, so he could keep nanny and baby safe.

* * *

Natalie saw the tail just as she turned into the narrow dirt road that led to the fishing cabin. She cut the lights and pulled to a stop at the side of the small wooden structure.

Knowing Sofia would be safer in her car seat, Natalie let the baby sleep while she dashed inside. Everything was as Wanda had mentioned, including the hunting rifle in the closet. Natalie found the ammo and loaded the weapon, then retraced her steps and hid in the underbrush until the car turned onto the dirt path.

Her heart pounded. She hadn’t expected Mason to follow her. As the SUV drew closer, she crawled from the foliage, holding the rifle in her arms. The vehicle skidded to a stop.

“Get out, Mason,” she screamed, aiming the gun at the shadowed outline of the man behind the wheel.

The door opened and long legs stepped to the ground, followed by a muscular chest, square jaw and dark eyes that stared at her with a perturbed frown.

“Lower that weapon before you hurt someone,” he warned.

Not Mason.

Everett Kohl.

Did she need to fear him, as well?

* * *

Everett didn’t like being one-upped, especially by a woman who looked light as a feather and about as threatening. Except for the Winchester .30-30.

A good rifle for hunting deer, and not the type of weapon a criminal would carry. Although it could do serious damage if she decided to pull the trigger.

Even with the rifle, Everett was confident he could overpower her, but he wanted her to trust him. Allowing the nanny to think she was in control would be the best strategy to earn that trust, at least for now. Plus, he was packing a SIG Sauer under his jacket and a J-Frame Smith & Wesson strapped to his ankle. Hopefully, she didn’t realize special agents were always armed.

A baby’s cry cut through the darkness.

Seeing the concern on Natalie’s face, he stepped toward the car and peered at the baby in the rear. “Someone’s not happy.”

“She’s probably wet and hungry.” Natalie motioned to the cabin. “Head for the porch and don’t do anything stupid.”

He pointed to the rifle. “You wouldn’t use that, would you?”

She cocked her hip and tried to look defiant. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Shooting a law enforcement officer carries a stiff penalty that would end your hopes for a career in education, Ms. Frazier.”

“It’s Natalie, and I know what I’m doing.”

“If so, then—”

“Then why am I holding you at gunpoint?”

He nodded. “Exactly.”

“Because you followed me here, and I need to know why.”

“To insure your safety.”

“Wrong answer.”

“But truthful.” He titled his head. “Tell me why you’re frightened of Mason?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“If you have information about Mrs. Yates’s murder, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I made a mistake.” Natalie’s bravado deflated. “I had two prank phone calls on the Joneses’ landline. I think they were from Mason.”

“What?”

“When I saw headlights, I thought he had followed me here.”

Pulling in a deep breath, Everett nodded. “You’ve got my attention. I’ll meet you on the porch. But watch that rifle. I wouldn’t want it to go off accidentally.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Kohl. I’ve got everything under control.”

Everett would have laughed if the situation weren’t so dicey. “It’s Everett.”

Again, Sofia let out a bellow.

As he walked toward the cabin, he glanced over his shoulder. The nanny had placed the rifle on the ground to free her hands. She plucked Sofia from the backseat of her car and struggled to balance the baby and the diaper bag.

Natalie frowned when she looked up and found him staring at her.

He retraced his steps and held out his hands. “You’re exhausted and loaded down. How ’bout I take the diaper bag and baby. You keep the gun.”

Her brow lifted, but she didn’t object as he reached for Sofia and nestled the baby against his shoulder. With his free hand, he grabbed the diaper bag.

“I’ll meet you inside.” He hurriedly climbed the steps and entered the rustic cabin. A stacked-stone fireplace sat to the right. The kitchen and eating area were on the left. A couch and two easy chairs filled the center of the room. An open door revealed a bedroom in the rear, and a second, smaller room with a crib and changer, which was where he headed.

Everett felt a swell of gratitude for his sister, who had let him help when her two little ones were infants and her husband was away on business. He laid Sofia on the changer, and, in short order, the baby was in a dry diaper and back in his arms.

Sofia cooed with contentment. He laughed at the sounds that reminded him of his nieces, then turned to find Natalie standing in the doorway of the nursery wearing a perplexed look.

“Are you married with kids?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“Yet you know how to change diapers?”

“I’ve got two nieces, two years and eight months old. My sister said I was a quick study.”

“She’s right. I’m impressed.”

Sofia jammed her tiny fist in her mouth and made sucking sounds.

“The baby’s hungry.” Everett rummaged in the tote and found a bottle of formula.

“Excuse me.” He walked past Natalie into the main room where he settled into the couch.

“I’ll feed Sofia while we have that talk you wanted.” He glanced at the rifle she still held. “Can you park the weapon by the fireplace? Conversation flows better when I’m not staring at the end of a gun.”

She hesitated.

“You can trust me, Natalie.”

She shook her head and wrinkled her brow. “No, Everett, I can’t. I can’t trust anyone. Not you, not the other special agent who was with you tonight, and certainly not Mason Yates.”

“Maybe we should skip the niceties and get right to what you want to talk about.”

“I want to talk about a woman who fell down the stairs to her death in Germany the way Tammy Yates died tonight.”

Everett tensed. “Do you have a name?”

She nodded. “Paula Conway.”

“And you think Mason Yates killed both women?”

“That’s exactly what I think.”

“Do you have proof?”

Her shoulders drooped. “I don’t have anything except a gut feeling, which won’t get me very far with law enforcement.”

What had this woman been through that caused her to be so distrustful? Had Mason hurt her? If so, Everett would make sure he paid for his indiscretion or abuse.

Two women dying in the same way—if what Natalie said was true—raised more than a red flag. Everett didn’t put much stock in hunches. Every person in law enforcement knew cases were solved with evidence, not subjective reactions or feelings, but something about Natalie Frazier tugged at his heart. She was nervous and afraid and appeared ready to collapse from the stress of what had happened.

“It’s okay, Natalie.” He wanted to reassure her. “I’m here to help you.”

She nodded ever so slightly, then lowered the gun to the floor and settled into a chair across from him.

His cell rang. Natalie tensed as he pulled it from his pocket. “Don’t tell anyone where you are or that I’m with you,” she warned.

He nodded. Seeing Frank’s name, he swiped the call screen to establish a connection and then raised the cell to his ear. “This is Special Agent Kohl.”

“Thanks for the tip about the apartment in Freemont. It’s leased to Denise Lang, the nanny’s roommate.”

“You checked it out?”

Everett tried to appear nonchalant as Frank continued.

“Denise works the evening shift at a local restaurant and didn’t show up tonight. The manager was worried and called the police.”

“Okay.”

“Almost simultaneously, we contacted them with questions about the nanny.”

Everett glanced at Natalie. “And?”

“And once we arrived at the apartment, we realized we’ve got even bigger problems.”

“Oh?”

“The local police found Denise Lang. She was murdered in her apartment.”

Everett groaned. “How?”

“Cause of death was a bullet to the gut.”

Everett listened as Frank told him who they suspected of committing the crime.

Disconnecting, he raised Sofia to his shoulder and leaned forward. “Tell me about Denise Lang.”

“My roommate?”

“When did you last see her?”

“Yesterday before she went to work. She waitresses at a restaurant in Freemont.”

“What about this morning?”

“She sleeps late. Her door was closed, and I didn’t want to wake her. Why?”

“You stopped at your apartment tonight.”

Natalie nodded. “She works nights and doesn’t want anyone to call her while she’s on the job. I left a note to tell her I would be out of touch for at least a day or so.”

“The police checked your apartment to determine if you had anything to do with Tammy Yates’s death.”

Natalie slumped back in the chair. Color drained from her face. “They had no right.”

“They had every right. Your roommate, Denise Lang, was found by the police.”

She grimaced. “What?”

“Denise Lang was found dead. Two women died today, Tammy Yates and your roommate.”

Natalie gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her face twisted with grief.

“The police are searching for the killer.” Everett pursed his lips, hoping she understood the seriousness of what he was about to say.

“The police are searching for you, Natalie. You’re a person of interest.”

Her blue eyes widened. “What’s that mean?”

“It means they think you may have killed both women.”


FOUR (#ulink_5fd71151-8f9f-5c7e-95ab-7513c6e40c07)

A roar filled Natalie’s ears. She grabbed the edge of the chair as the room shifted out of control, then hung her head to fend off the swell of nausea and light-headedness.

What she’d just heard couldn’t be true.

“Are you okay?”

Everett’s voice sounded garbled and distant, as if she were swimming underwater and couldn’t make her way to the surface.

Denise? Gone?

His hand gripped her shoulder. “Take deep breaths. Keep your head down.”

She gasped for air.

“You’re pale as death, Natalie.”

Bad choice of words. Her heart pounded even more. How could Denise be dead?

“Hold on.” He left her side and hurried to the kitchen, where he ran water from the faucet and returned with a damp cloth that he placed on the back of her neck.

She fought to bring the world back into perspective and drew in a lungful of fresh air. Rubbing a hand over her still-queasy stomach, Natalie tried to make sense of what had happened, but nothing made sense. Not the fact that Mason Yates lived next to Wanda Davis or that his wife had been pushed to her death as Natalie listened to her scream for help.

She shivered, unable to wipe the horrific scene from her mind. The vision shifted, and, instead of Tammy lying dead at the foot of the stairs, she saw Denise.

“No,” she moaned, and rubbed her forehead. “I... I can’t believe—”

“Shh.” His hand stroked her shoulder. “Relax for a few minutes. There’ll be time to talk later.”

Time to talk when he hauled her back to Fort Rickman. Tears burned her eyes and a huge lump filled her throat. Even drawing a shallow breath took effort.

The swirl of confusion played havoc with her emotions. She should have moved back to Detroit. The inner-city blight would have been easier to handle than what was happening in Georgia.

All she wanted was to get a job in education and earn enough to live life without drawing attention to herself or her past. The warmth of a small town, Freemont, with its strong sense of community and welcoming arms, had seemed an ideal location in which to sink roots and perhaps, someday, find someone special and raise a family.

That dream for her future was out of the question now. The way things looked, she didn’t even have a future.

A person of interest in the deaths of two women?

She groaned.

“It’s okay, Natalie.”

Special Agent Kohl was either terribly confused or too much of an optimist. Nothing was okay. All she saw was darkness and heartache.

Somehow she had to clear her name, but so much was stacked against her. Everett was a special agent on the hunt for a killer. A bull’s-eye was painted on her back, and in spite of his seeming concern for her present well-being, he couldn’t change the mind-set of the powers that be at Fort Rickman.

With Mason spouting lies about what had happened in Germany, the CID would come to the wrong conclusion. She didn’t have a chance, unless she could uncover evidence that proved Mason’s guilt and convince Everett of her innocence. Would the special agent be a help or a hindrance?

* * *

Everett hated being the bearer of bad news, and Natalie appeared to have had her quota today. He’d never seen anyone blanch so quickly or look so fragile.

Criminals were habitually good actors, but the total shock Natalie seemed to be experiencing was hard to feign. Still, he needed to be cautious.

He placed the baby in the crib. By the time he had retraced his steps, Natalie’s breathing was more even, and her deathly pallor had changed to a healthier hue.

He filled a glass with water and added ice.

“How ’bout a drink?” he offered.

“Thanks.” She reached for the glass. “I... I can’t believe—”

Her voice caught. She turned away from his gaze and shook her head. “Denise? It can’t be true.”

“How long had you known her?”

“Almost a year. She needed a roommate and placed an ad in the Freemont paper. I responded and moved in the following day.”

“You were good friends?”

Natalie took a sip of water and shrugged. “We shared an apartment. Denise worked nights, and I was gone most days to my classes. On the weekends, we each went our separate way.”

“Was there anyone who wanted to do her harm?”

“Not that I know of, although she’d been dating a guy for about two months. Their relationship was questionable in my mind.”

“In what way?”

“He wanted everything kept private. She wouldn’t even tell me his name.” Natalie glanced up, her expression open and unassuming. “I thought that was strange and not what I would want in a relationship.”

“Did she know how you felt?”

“I’d mentioned the importance of trust. She wasn’t one to take advice.”

“So you knew nothing about him?”

“Only that they met outside of town, and he never came to our apartment.”

“Any chance he could have been married?”

“That’s what I thought, which upset me. Denise was a good person. She came from a great family. I couldn’t understand why she would keep the guy’s identity secret.”

Natalie took another sip of water before continuing. “Whatever was going on affected Denise. She had changed over the last few weeks. She used to be upbeat and happy. Recently, she’d seemed on edge.”

“Did she reveal anything about the boyfriend?”

“Only that he drove fast cars.”

“More than one?”

“She mentioned a sports car and a sedan.” Natalie’s eyes widened. “How many cars does Mason drive?”

Everett didn’t see that coming. “Why do you think he might be the boyfriend?”

“I’m just searching for a common thread between the two deaths.”

A common thread that didn’t involve her.

Everett pulled his cell from his pocket. “I’ll call post and pass the information on to Frank.”

Natalie grabbed his hand. “Please don’t. The CID will want me to return to post. I’m afraid of what Mason might do.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She bit her lip. “Mason’s opinion will carry weight. He could make up all sorts of stories about our time in Vilseck, all of which would paint me in a bad light. I don’t trust him, and the CID will be more prone to believe one of their own than anything I have to say.”

Natalie was right about Mason’s statements carrying weight. She was an unknown. He was an established investigator.

Her mention of Germany raised another red flag. “Mason was your supervisor in Vilseck. Did he threaten you?”

Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “He...he had a wandering eye.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Everett fisted his hands in respond to the flash of anger that swept over him. “Did anything happen?”

“I was careful to keep my distance.”

“Did you issue a sexual harassment complaint?”

“That would have made the situation worse.”

Natalie should have issued a complaint that would have been investigated. Instead, she’d reacted like too many women and remained silent for fear of retribution. Everett didn’t understand her logic, but then he’d never been in such a situation.

“Do you have any proof of his inappropriate actions?”

She shook her head. “He was careful to insure no one heard his comments.”

Everett let out a stiff breath. “So you didn’t issue a complaint because it would have been your word against his.”

“Exactly. I was due to return to the States and decided not to reenlist. Freemont is a nice town. I thought I could start fresh there, never thinking I’d see Mason again. That’s why I can’t go back to Fort Rickman. He’ll bring up Germany, only he’ll twist what happened and make it seem that I was the one at fault.”

“You’re jumping to the wrong conclusion.”

“Am I?” She tugged at her hair. “After I left, rumors circulated to that effect. One of the other personnel clerks emailed me and told me what she had heard.”

“Did she know where the rumors had originated?”

“She didn’t need to tell me. I knew. Mason spread lies about me to make sure his name wasn’t sullied.”

The sincerity in her voice and the strength of her conviction brought back memories of another woman who had been threatened by a superior. Everett hadn’t looked deep enough into that case, and the results had been catastrophic. He couldn’t make the same mistake again.

The lines of fatigue around Natalie’s eyes were telling. She was exhausted and needed rest.

“Let’s wait until morning,” he suggested. “Then we can decide what to do next.”

She flicked her gaze around the cabin and nervously tugged at the sleeve of her sweater. “I’m not going back to Fort Rickman.”

“We’ll decide in the morning.”

“You don’t believe me, that’s why you’re determined to take me in.”

“I have a job to do, Natalie.”

“You have a job to find out the truth. That’s what you told me earlier. I didn’t kill Denise, and I had nothing to do with Tammy Yates’s death.”

“Two deaths in one day are more than a coincidence. You seem to be the common denominator.”

“That doesn’t make me a killer.”

She was right, but it did make her a possible suspect. Everett should be in his car driving her back to the CID Headquarters at Fort Rickman or to the Freemont police. Both law enforcement agencies considered her a person of interest. Everett did, as well, but ever since Specialist Carolyn Rogers had stepped into his cubicle seven years ago, he’d been overly cautious about jumping to the wrong conclusions, which is why he was hesitant to take Natalie back to post, at least not tonight.

Eventually she would need to be questioned by law enforcement, but right now, he was concerned about Mason Yates and the strings he might pull to wrap the investigation up too quickly. Getting to the truth was the bottom line. Natalie wasn’t a threat or a flight risk tonight. By morning, the CID might have more information that would shed light on both crimes.

Hopefully, Natalie’s innocence would be established. If not, Everett would have to admit his mistake. The delay might cost him his career, but he had to trust himself and everything inside him told him to be cautious.

How could he look at himself in the mirror, even if his career advanced, if an innocent woman’s life was ruined in the process? He had to follow his gut on this one.

Was she guilty or innocent? A hard question he couldn’t answer. At least not yet.


FIVE (#ulink_de594f3d-aefb-50d3-9ea0-18ec8c9996e1)

Once Natalie had turned in, Everett stepped outside and slowly walked around the cabin. He had followed Natalie here from Fort Rickman, which meant someone else could have, as well. Like the killer who had thrown Tammy Yates to her death or whoever had shot Denise Lang.

The moon broke through the dark cloud cover. In the distance, he could see a lake and boat dock. The scene looked peaceful, but anything—or anyone—could be lurking in the shadows.

Slowly, he approached Natalie’s car and spied the keys in the ignition. Opening the door, he hesitated for a long moment as a floral scent, like the gardenias his mom grew in her garden, wafted past him. He had noticed the scent earlier when he’d stood close to Natalie, but now it brought thoughts of a determined woman who wanted to keep baby Sofia safe. Natalie tried to appear tough, yet the totally feminine scent she wore and her concern for the infant revealed something about the real person beneath the facade.

Everett admired her spunk and focus. She was pretty with her black hair and big eyes that stirred an awareness deep within him. The intensity of her gaze haunted him. She seemed to plead for help yet refused to ask, as if any sign of weakness should be kept hidden.

Checking his watch, he did the math with the six-hour time difference between Georgia and Germany, then punched in a number and waited until Special Agent Tyler Zimmerman answered.

“Hey, buddy, it’s Everett. I heard you were in Vilseck.”

“Good to hear your voice, Rett. Last I knew you were at Fort Sill.”

“And transferred to Rickman some months ago.”

“A good assignment,” Tyler said, “if you’re working for Craig Wilson.”

Surprised by the comment, Everett asked, “You know Wilson?”

“Only by reputation. Do me a favor, and put in a plug for me.”

“How long before you PCS back to the States?”

“I spent two-and-a-half years at Heidelberg, and the last eight months here in Vilseck. I could ask for a transfer in a couple more months, especially if Wilson requests me. Tell the chief that I’m an outstanding special agent with exceptional investigative skills.”

Everett chuckled. “I’ll let him know.”

“Appreciate the support, but you didn’t call to talk about my career goals. What’s up?”

Everett cut to the chase. “Special Agent Mason Yates’s wife died a few hours ago. She either fell or was pushed down the stars in their quarters.”

Tyler let out a stiff breath. “That’s tough. How’s Mason?”

“Grieving, of course. He wasn’t home at the time of death. Right now we don’t have any leads.” At least none Everett wanted to reveal. “A personnel clerk, Specialist Natalie Frazier, worked with the CID and left Vilseck about a year ago. I need information on her and any involvement she might have had with Mason.”

“Involvement? You mean a relationship?”

“Supposedly not, but let me know if any scuttlebutt is floating around. I don’t put stock in rumors, although sometimes they hold a hint of truth.”

“I’ll be discreet.”

“There’s something else. A woman fell down the stairs to her death in Vilseck while Mason was there. Her name was Paula Conway. See if anyone remembers the incident. Let me know what you uncover.”

“Roger that.”

After disconnecting, Everett stared into the woods. The chatter of cicadas and tree frogs filled the night. Returning the cell to his ear, he made one more call, this time to bring Frank Gallagher up-to-date.

“You need to drive Natalie Frazier back to Fort Rickman. If not now, then in the morning,” Frank insisted once Everett explained the situation.

“I’ll talk to her and get back to you, but I have to tell you, Frank, she’s been forthright about everything so far.”

“She can be forthright at Fort Rickman.”

Everett told him about the roommate’s boyfriend. “See if you can find out who Denise was seeing. Could be a married man who wants to keep his transgressions quiet.”

“I’ll pass that on to the Freemont police.”

“Although it’s a long shot, we need to be certain Mason isn’t involved.”

Frank’s sharp inhale sounded over the phone. “Did Natalie think he was seeing her roommate?”

“It’s purely speculation, although wouldn’t that be an interesting twist?”

“One I don’t like.”

“I don’t, either, but that doesn’t mean we don’t follow every lead. Plus, Natalie had two prank phone calls on the Joneses’ landline earlier tonight. Check Mason’s cell, just in case.”

Frank sniffed. “You’re treading on thin ice, Rett. Mason’s record is squeaky clean. The unknown in this situation is the nanny. Easy enough for her to concoct a story in order to shift blame to someone else. Someone who could end up being Chief of Fort Rickman CID, if Wilson transfers.”

“I’m the one suggesting the connection, Frank. You can blame me.”

He and Frank both knew they were walking on a slippery slope that could have them tumbling downward in a heartbeat, especially if Mason stepped into Wilson’s shoes.

“I’ll check Mason’s cell and make inquiries about the roommate’s boyfriend,” Frank said before he disconnected. “Call me in the morning.”

Everett pocketed his phone with a sigh. Natalie had opened up tonight. Surely she would reveal more information in the morning. Once Everett heard back from Tyler, he’d know a bit more about what had happened in Germany.

After stepping back into the cabin, he locked the door behind him and stood in the dark room. For a long moment, he stared through the picture window at the lake in the distance. In spite of the placid water and serenity of the night, Everett couldn’t calm his unrest. Too many questions needed to be answered.




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