Carla Cassidy - Scene of the Crime - Black Creek

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.