Mariah Stewart - Cold Truth

She had no way of knowing he would sit and stare after her until her car had long since disappeared.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to work all day.”

Lucy, who was sitting on the top step of the front porch, painting her toenails a deep red, called to Cass even before she had the car door closed behind her.

“I got tied up.”

“I hope he was cute.” Lucy raised one foot and wiggled her toes. “What do you think? Is it too dark? Would it look better if I were tanner?”

“It looks fine,” Cass said without looking. The color of her cousin’s toenails was the last thing on her mind.

“So, was he?”

“Was who what?”

“Was he cute?” Lucy grinned. “You were meeting with that FBI guy this morning, right?”

Cass paused on her way up the stairs.

“Actually, he was, I guess.”

“You guess?” Lucy laughed out loud.

“Yeah, I guess he was okay.”

“What did he look like? Tall, dark, and handsome?”

“That fits.” Cass stepped around Lucy and went into the house.

“Hey, come back here!” Lucy got up awkwardly and followed Cass inside, walking on her heels to avoid smearing the polish. “You can do better than that. And what’s his name? Was he nice?”

“Lucy, this wasn’t a blind date. He’s with the FBI. He’s only here to help us out with these killings.”

Lucy pulled two chairs out from under the kitchen table, sat in one, and propped her feet up on the other.

“But you must have had an impression of him. You spent all day in his company.”

“Okay, my impression is that he’s very smart, very professional. He wasn’t what I expected at all.” Cass rummaged in the refrigerator, which was filled to near-capacity, thanks to Lucy’s trip to the local market. She brought out a block of cheddar cheese and set it on the counter while she looked for a knife.

“I bought a cheese slicer,” Lucy told her. “It’s in the drawer with the flatware.”

“This?” Cass held up the slicer and Lucy nodded.

“There are crackers in the cupboard next to the cereal, but don’t eat too much. I bought crabs for dinner.” Lucy shook the bottle of nail polish, then opened it and began to paint the fingernails on her left hand to match her toes. “It was for myself because I didn’t hear from the kids this morning. They’re supposed to call on Saturdays, right? I figured they probably called home and talked to their dad and he probably didn’t remind them to call me on my cell phone, so I went food shopping and stopped at the Crab Shack, thinking we could pig out later. Well, there I was, in line, waiting for our crabs to be cooked to order, and doesn’t my cell phone ring?”

Lucy paused to beam.

“And there were my babies, both of them. They did call home, and they had forgotten my number, so David gave it to them and told them to charge the call to the house phone-I should thank him, I guess-so I got to talk to both of the boys. I almost cried, I was so happy to hear from them.”

“How are they doing?”

“Having the time of their lives, and no injuries so far.” She knocked on the wooden cabinet. “They want to stay for an extra session. You’d think two weeks of football, two weeks of lacrosse would be enough, but nooooo. They want two weeks of ice hockey as well.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them to take it up with their father. I guess I’d rather have them at camp having fun than home dodging bullets between David and me.” Lucy looked as if she was about to cry. “The longer they stay at camp, the longer I can put distance between me and David. The longer I have to think about what I want to do, where I want to go…”

She stared out the window for a time.

“Anyway, it was so good to hear their voices. I miss them every day. They’ve never been away from me for more than a long weekend.”

“They’re eleven this year?”

Lucy nodded.

“I guess that’s old enough.”

“Old enough for what?”

“Old enough to go a few weeks without seeing their momma.”

“Oh, you.” Lucy laughed. “I’ll see them next weekend. I can’t wait. I know it’s not even been a week, but I miss them. Parents can go for visits after the second week, so I’ll drive up on Saturday for a while. You’re welcome to come with me if you like.”

“We’ll see. As much as I’d like to see Kyle and Kevin again, I hate to commit to anything. With the investigation and all.”

“I understand.” Lucy bit the inside of her lip. “I guess I need to find out when David is going to be there. So I can go at a different time.”

“The boys won’t think that’s odd? That you don’t go together?”

“I’ll just tell them that I’ve come up from the beach, which would be the absolute truth.” She waved a hand at Cass. “Now, go on. You were talking about how… what’s his name? The FBI guy?”

“Rick Cisco.”

“Cisco? Like the Cisco Kid?”

“I can’t imagine anyone calling him that and living to tell about it,” Cass mused, “but yes, like the Cisco Kid.”

“So you were telling me how he wasn’t what you’d expected.”

“I’ve never worked directly with the FBI before, but from everything I’ve heard, they’re a pain in the ass to deal with. Like, once they come into an investigation, they take over. They like to be in charge. Their way or the highway. And that once the case has been solved, they take the credit. If the case goes bad, they put the blame on the locals.”

“You think that’s the way this guy, Cisco, is going to do it?”

“Well, we’ll see. He says we’ll be working together, equally. He’s not going to take over the case, he’s not going to claim credit once we catch this guy, yada yada yada. The jury’s still out on him.” She paused to reflect. “And he was adamant that we would catch this guy.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, right? You want to work with someone who has that kind of confidence, right?”

Cass nodded.

“I want so badly to catch this bastard. And soon. It’s been over a week.” She shook her head. “Every day he’s out there, some other poor woman is at risk.”

“You think the Cisco Kid can make a difference?”

“He’s another pair of experienced hands. That alone makes a difference.” Cass cut off a paper-thin slice of cheese. “Want one?”

“No, thanks. Not right now.” Lucy bent close to the table as she applied polish to a fingernail. “So what did you do with him today?”

“Gave him a copy of each of the victims’ files. Took him to all four crime scenes.” Cass went back to the fridge for a beer. “Last one. Want half?”

“Actually, I’d love half. Thanks.”

Cass got two glasses out of the cupboard and split the beer equally between them. She set one on the table in front of Lucy, who was still absorbed in polishing her nails, and took a thoughtful sip from the other.

“He wanted to go through the bird sanctuary,” she said.

“Why?”

“He just wanted to see what was there, behind the fence, since our last victim was found right outside there, on Bay Lane.”

“I haven’t been out there in…” Lucy tried to remember. “I don’t even know how long it’s been since I was there. Maybe not since I was a kid.”

“I hadn’t gone in years.”

“Remember when your mom used to take us there?”

“Yes.” Cass took another sip, then said softly, “They put a memorial up, near one of the blinds. A plaque with her name on it.”

“That’s really nice, Cass.” Lucy put the brush into the polish bottle. “Hadn’t you seen it before?”

Cass shook her head. “I sort of remember someone sending me a letter some years ago, that they were going to dedicate something, but I think I was still in college at the time and missed it completely.”