Paula Graves: Chickasaw County Captive

Her heart sank. So he did know who she was. Everybody in Gossamer Ridge knew. Oh, well, the brief anonymity had been nice while it lasted. “It’s my job,” she said gruffly.

“Thank you anyway.” He rang off.

Kristen closed her phone and released a long breath. He was right. It had been hard dealing with Maddy. Kids in general, really. The psychiatrists had all assured her the prickly, uncomfortable feeling she had around young children would go away eventually, as her memories of that horrible day faded with distance.

Only they hadn’t faded. The pain had receded, even most of the fear, but not those last, wretched memories of her brothers and sisters.

Their last moments on earth.

She arrived at work in a gloomy mood and found Foley sitting at her desk, jotting a note. He looked up with a half smile. “Ah, I was about to leave you a note. One of Sam Cooper’s neighbors called, said she might have seen someone suspicious lurking around the Cooper house earlier in the evening. I thought I’d go hear her out. Let’s go.”

“Let me make a phone call first.” As she looked up the number for the Jefferson County District Attorney’s office, she told Foley about Sam Cooper’s call. He arched an eyebrow but didn’t speak while she waited for someone to pick up. After several rings, voice mail picked up.

“Maybe they’ve cleared the building, just in case?”

Kristen left a brief message, then dialed Sam Cooper’s cell phone number.

He answered on the first ring. “Detective Tandy?”

“I got voice mail when I called your office.”

“I know. I managed to get a colleague on his cell. They’ve evacuated the building and the bomb squad is examining the package. Tim promised to call me back as soon as he knew something more, but this waiting is driving me nuts.”

“I’ll drive down to Birmingham and check it out for you.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Shouldn’t you stay with your daughter?”

“Jake and Gabe took her and my nephew Mike fishing to keep their minds off what’s going on with Cissy. They’ll be out on the lake all morning.”

“You should’ve gone with them.”

His soft laugh was humorless. “I’d be on the phone the whole time anyway.”

“Then why don’t you ride along with me?” Kristen supposed he might be of use to her if the Birmingham Police didn’t want to play nice.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Do you know where Cooper Marina is?”

“Yeah. See you in fifteen minutes.”

KRISTEN TANDY’S CHEVROLET pulled into the marina parking lot with a minute to spare. Sam didn’t wait for her to get out. “Where’s Detective Foley?” he asked as he slid into the passenger seat.

She cranked the engine. “Talking to a neighbor of yours. Might be a lead.” She didn’t sound convinced.

“I talked to my colleague again just before you arrived.” Sam buckled in as she headed toward the main highway. “Bomb squad’s still inside. Nobody seems to know anything yet.”

“Don’t imagine it’s a job you’d want to rush.”

He slanted a look at her. Her eyes were on the narrow road twisting through the woods from his parents’ marina to the two-lane highway leading into town, her lips curved in a wry smile. He’d been too preoccupied last night to really process much about her, like the fact that she was strikingly pretty. He’d been right about how young she was, though. No older than her late twenties.

She’d shed her jacket to drive, a well-cut white blouse revealing soft curves her boxy business suit had hidden the night before. In the morning sunlight, her skin was as smooth and pale as fine porcelain and her sleek blond hair shimmered like gold. He was surprised by how attractive he found her, under the circumstances.

He distracted himself with a question. “You haven’t been a detective long, have you?”

Her expression grew defensive. “Six months.”

He nodded. “Big case for you, I guess.”

“Not my usual petty theft or meth lab,” she admitted.

“How about Foley? How long has he been a detective?”

Her gaze cut toward him. “Should we send you our résumés?”

“Would you?” he countered, more to see her reaction than any real doubt about their credentials.

She took a swift breath through her nose. He could almost hear her mentally counting to ten, he thought, stifling a grin. “Detective Foley has been an investigator for ten years. Five of those were with the Memphis Police Department Homicide Bureau. I’ve been an officer with the Gossamer Ridge Police Department since I turned twenty-one.”

He couldn’t hold back a smile. “That long, huh?”

She slanted him an exasperated look, her eyes spitting blue fire. “Anything new with your niece? Last time I checked, the hospital said there was no change.”

“That’s because there’s not been any change,” he said, his smile fading. “Better than a downturn, I suppose, but a little good news would be welcome.”

“Have they diagnosed the problem?”

“She has a skull fracture and some minor bleeding in her brain. Right now they think she’s got a good chance of full recovery, but I think that’s based on her age and relative health more than anything they’re seeing in the CAT scans.”

“Damn. We could really use her statement.”

He shot her a look.

Her neck reddened and her lips pressed into a tight line. “Sorry. I’m still working on my self-edit button.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “We could use her statement.”

“I checked in with the lab before I left the station. They’re comparing all the fingerprints to eliminate the ones you’d expect to find, so it’s going to take time to see if there are any unidentified prints.” She turned onto the interstate on-ramp, heading south to Birmingham. “I know you said last night you didn’t think your ex could be a suspect-”

“She doesn’t have a motive,” he said bluntly. “She ended our marriage as much because she didn’t want to be a mother as because she didn’t want to be married to me. Maddy was an accident she couldn’t deal with.” He clamped his mouth shut before more bitter words escaped.

“Some women just aren’t mother material,” Kristen murmured.

“Some women don’t even try,” he shot back.

She was silent for a moment, a muscle in her jaw working. After a bit, she said, “Maybe when we get to Birmingham, we’ll have the answer to who’s behind the attack on your niece.”

“Maybe.” He doubted it, though. It wasn’t likely that the guy who broke into his house, nearly killed his niece and tried to kidnap his daughter would send Sam a package that could be traced back to him.

Within thirty minutes they pulled up to the police cordon blocking traffic in front of the Jefferson County District Attorney’s office. Sam directed Kristen to park in the deck across from the county courthouse, and they walked down the street to where the police had set up the barriers.

Sam spotted Tim Melton, the colleague he’d reached earlier. He crossed to Melton’s side. “Any news?”

“I just saw someone from the bomb squad come out and talk to Captain Rayburn,” Tim answered. He gave Kristen Tandy a curious look. “Tim Melton,” he introduced himself.

“Detective Tandy,” she answered.

“Oh. Right.” He looked back at Sam. “How’s your niece?”

“No change,” he answered tersely. “Detective Tandy’s investigating the case.”

“I guess that package might be connected?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.” Kristen stepped closer to the police tape. “Any way to get me in there?” she asked Sam.

He searched the crowd of policemen and firefighters on the other side of the cordon to see if he could catch the eye of one of the handful of officers he knew by name. A few seconds later, a sandy-haired detective named Cropwell spotted him and crossed to the tape to greet him.