Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon (8 page)

If they found the family dead in one of these tin-box units, he could only hope that the perp had left behind some kind of evidence that they could use to hunt him down.

If the family had been killed, Gabriel would not only want to find the killer, but he’d also like to know why they were killed. Motives always intrigued him. As far as he was concerned, the intents of criminals were almost as fascinating as the criminals themselves.

The work was what was important to him, and nothing more. Women came and went, and love was a make-believe emotion that sold Valentine’s Day cards and flowers but had nothing to do with his world.

The three of them got out of the car and were met by the manager, a tall, thin older man who introduced himself as Burt Buchannan. “I’m normally not here on Sundays, but I decided after church to come in this afternoon and do a little lawn work. I was weed eating around some of the units this morning and noticed the smell.” His long nose wrinkled up as if recalling the foul odor. “I figured you all would want to know who rents it, so I looked it up in my records, and for the past four years, it’s been rented by a Carl Gifford.”

“We appreciate you calling us so quickly,” Andrew said. “We’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Burt shrugged. “Got nobody at home waiting for me. My wife passed three years ago.”

“Sorry to hear that. Do you know Mr. Gifford?” Gabriel asked.

Burt shook his head. “I’ve been working here for over ten years. I had to have met him once when he came in to rent the unit, but I have no real memory of it, and I don’t think I’ve seen him since.”

“How does he pay his monthly bill?” Jackson asked.

“It’s an automatic draft from his bank account, so he never has to come into the office.” Burt gestured toward the official entrance to the storage units. “Everyone who rents a unit gets an electronic card that they swipe, and it opens the gate so people can access their units at all times of the day or night.”

“Do you have keys to all the units?” Jackson asked.

Burt nodded. “It’s part of the rental agreement that I have a duplicate key to all the units, and no other locks are allowed. You wouldn’t believe how many people don’t pay after the first month or two and leave me with a shed full of crap locked up that has to be taken away.” He pulled a ring filled with keys from his pocket.

“Let’s take a look at the unit in question,” Gabriel said with a hint of impatience. The sun was hot, he was irritable, and he just wanted to know if the family was here or not. He wanted to solve this case and get the heck out of Dodge.

He needed to be back in Baton Rouge, where meals came from the closest fast-food restaurant or from a can, not served by a sexy woman he couldn’t get out of his mind. He wanted his own bed, not the one where he could tell she’d plumped his pillow and pulled up his sheets, because the scent of her was everywhere in the room.

He followed the rest of them through a maze of metal buildings with painted numbers on each one and wondered what was hidden behind the doors, trying to stay focused on the here and now.

They stopped in front of unit 2137. “This is it,” Burt said. “If you walk around the back, you can really smell it.”

The three agents walked to the rear entrance of the unit where half the weeds had been cut down, and the smell instantly hit Gabriel.

“Oh, wow,” Andrew said, and took several steps back from the building as his face turned a faint shade of green.

Andrew had the biggest appetite and the weakest stomach of anyone Gabriel had ever worked with. He grinned as Andrew worked to keep down the big lunch he’d eaten.

The smell of decomposition was one you never forgot and would never mistake for anything else. It had a distinctive odor all its own.

“Something is definitely dead in there,” Jackson drawled. “And whatever it is, it’s been dead for a while.”

“I doubt that. Decomposition would have happened pretty fast in this tin box in this kind of heat,” Gabriel replied. It would be tragic if they opened the unit only to discover that the family had been killed just a day or so earlier.

They walked back around to the front where Burt awaited them. “Open it,” Gabriel said, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

Burt fumbled with the keys, seeming to take forever to finally find the right one. He bent down and unlocked the padlock, removed it and then pulled up the garage-style door.

A thick cloud of black flies flew out as the afternoon sunshine filled the inside. The smell was nearly overwhelming, and as Jackson and Gabriel moved forward, Andrew and Burt stepped back.

For a moment Gabriel and Jackson remained frozen in place.

“Sweet Jesus,” Jackson finally whispered.

Gabriel stared at the three blood-covered canvases on the concrete floor, each covering something big enough to be a body. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

He’d hoped it wouldn’t end like this. He didn’t realize until this moment how badly he’d wanted to find the Connellys alive, not just for them, not just for himself but for Marlena, as well.

“Go get some gloves and booties,” he said to Andrew.

Andrew ran back to the car to retrieve what was required. Gabriel looked at the rest of the interior of the unit, seeking something that might aid them in an investigation.

They had one thing in their favor. Even if the name Burt had been given by whomever had rented this place was false, they could follow the money back to the source.

“Why would a criminal who’s been smart enough not to leave a single clue behind be stupid enough to use an automatic withdrawal from his bank account to pay for this place?” Jackson asked, his thoughts mirroring Gabriel’s.

“Maybe he figured nobody would ever know the bodies were here. Maybe he was just stupid enough not to realize that Burt might smell something funny out here.”

“Looks like the only thing in here is whatever is under those canvases and that big dolly.” Jackson pointed to a red dolly standing in a far corner. It had probably been used to cart the bodies into the storage unit.

By that time Andrew was back. Both Gabriel and Jackson put on the booties and gloves, and then advanced on the first bloody canvas.

Gabriel had seen a lot of horrible things in his years as an FBI agent, and he’d been desensitized up to a point, but as he approached the corner of the first canvas to see what lay beneath, he prayed the first thing he saw wasn’t little Macy’s face staring sightlessly in death back at him.

He exchanged a glance with Jackson, who he knew had to be feeling the same emotions that now roiled through him: dread, disappointment and, finally, failure.

He grabbed the canvas, drew a deep breath and then yanked it back. All the air in his lungs whooshed out of him as he stared at what lay beneath.

“What in the hell?” Jackson’s voice rang out with anger as the two of them stared at the big dead, decomposing alligator beneath the canvas.

An overwhelming rage welled up inside Gabriel as he stalked over to the other two forms and threw back the canvases to expose two more decaying alligators.

“Call Sheriff Thompson,” he said to Burt. “Tell him he’s got a situation out here that needs to be resolved. This isn’t our problem.”

Gabriel stepped out of the unit, pulled off his gloves and booties and stalked toward the car, aware of Jackson and Andrew hurrying after him.

Chapter Eight

That evening Marlena found Gabriel seated on the sofa in the great room, the television turned on, but the volume so low it couldn’t be heard.

He was half sprawled on the sofa, fingers rubbing back and forth in the center of his forehead. She’d heard about the alligator event and knew that it had been a particularly difficult day for the three agents.

“Headache?” she asked sympathetically as she walked into the room.

“A killer,” he admitted.

“Can I get you something?”

“It’s just stress. Eventually it will go away.” There was pain in the sound of his deep voice.

“Sometimes a really good massage helps.” She moved around the sofa to stand behind him and placed her fingers on his temples. “May I?” she asked.

He dropped his hand to his lap. “Knock yourself out.”

She moved her fingers lightly at his temples and then began to massage with more force, working across his forehead and then back and around to the base of his skull. His thick, soft hair felt good beneath her fingers, but her desire was strictly focused on easing his pain.

He began to relax, his shoulders losing their tenseness, his neck moving more freely with her instead of fighting her.

She didn’t know how long she had massaged Gabriel’s head before Andrew came downstairs. “Hey, I could use one of those,” he said.

Gabriel stiffened and sat up straighter. She dropped her hands from his head. “Do you have a headache, too?” she asked.

Andrew cast her one of his easygoing smiles. “Nah. I’ll settle for leftover apple pie from dinner.”

“In the refrigerator. Feel free to help yourself,” she replied as she walked around the sofa and sat on the opposite end from Gabriel.

“Better?” she asked the moment Andrew disappeared from the room.

“Actually, it is a little better. Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.” His dark blue eyes gazed at her with weariness.

“You were in pain. I wanted to do whatever I could to ease that pain,” she countered.

“Is that because of what happened between us the other night?” His gaze was wary.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had an amazing dream the other night, and then I woke up.” She frowned at him, wondering what was going on in his head. “Gabriel, don’t read anything into it. I was just trying to be nice to you.”

He stared at the far wall for a long moment and then looked back at her. “I’m not used to people being nice,” he replied.

“Then you’ve been running around with the wrong kind of people,” she observed. Sensing that he wanted to be alone, that further conversation would only make him more wary, she told him good-night and then went into the kitchen to sit with Andrew for a few minutes at the small kitchen table before turning in for the night.

“Tough day,” she said.

Andrew dug a fork into an oversize piece of the leftover pie she’d made that day. “The worst. We were sure that those canvases covered the bodies of your friends. None of us wanted to come back here and tell you that we’d found them in that storage unit.” He paused to shovel a large bite into his mouth and washed it down with a sip of milk.

“You like him,” he said.

“Who?” she asked, although she knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Gabriel. The air practically snaps when the two of you are in the same room.” He eyed her sympathetically. “Just a little word of warning. I’ve been partners with Gabriel for a couple of years now. He’s a tough nut to crack, and he doesn’t do love. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Trust me, I know exactly what kind of person Gabriel is. You don’t have to worry about me,” she said, warmed by his attempt to let her know Gabriel wasn’t a man looking for a future with any woman. “What about you? Do you have a girlfriend or wife back in Baton Rouge?”

“Girlfriend, soon to be fiancée,” he replied, his eyes lighting as if merely mentioning her caused his heart to soar. “Her name is Suzi, and she’s the love of my life. We’ve been together for two years, and I’m just about ready to put a ring on her.”

“That’s nice. She’s a lucky woman,” she replied and then got up from the table. “And thanks for the warning about my own love life, but it was completely unnecessary. I have no illusions about anything, and now I think I’ll say good-night. Just put your dishes in the sink when you’re finished.”

“Good night, Marlena, and thanks for taking such good care of us.”

“My pleasure,” she replied and then went into her private quarters.

Minutes later, as she got into bed, her thoughts naturally drifted to Gabriel. Despite Andrew’s warnings, and what Gabriel had told her himself, she could love him if he’d let her, if she allowed herself to.

But she couldn’t, and tomorrow she intended to ask him if it would be okay for her and Cory to move on, to leave Bachelor Moon and the bed-and-breakfast and begin their new lives. She’d already told Cory to prepare to leave, that their time line had been moved up by the Connellys’ disappearance.

She wasn’t sure what would happen to the bed-and-breakfast if she left. She assumed Pamela would step in to manage the business until something broke with the case.

Marlena awoke early as usual the next morning, and as she sipped her coffee, she made a list of things she’d need to do to transition from this place that had felt like home for the better part of the past two years to a new city, a new location to start over.

Although she knew Cory would hate to leave here, she also knew he’d do well with the move. He was a friendly kid and would make a circle of friends easily, especially once he was enrolled in a trade school.

She had enough money tucked away to pay for a year of college tuition for herself, and she knew that Cory had enough money in savings to pay for trade school. She could get a job waitressing to pay their living expenses, and life would go on.

Without Daniella. Without Macy and Sam. Her heart ached with their absence, but if there was one thing Marlena had learned over the years, it was that she couldn’t control fate and could only deal with the consequences of her own actions and whatever fate cast her way.

Fate had taken away Sam and Daniella and their little girl, and after this much time, deep in her heart she didn’t believe they were ever returning.

She stopped her list making to fix breakfast for the men, who were quiet and somber. Even Andrew appeared subdued as he ate his usual big breakfast.

Gabriel barely met her gaze, appearing distracted as he ate quickly and then waited on the front porch for the other two to join him.

Once they had left, Cory and John appeared at the back door looking for breakfast, as well. She fed them bacon and eggs, and then watched at the window as they left the house to get to work in the yard.

With breakfast taken care of, and assuming the men wouldn’t be home for lunch, she pulled some thick steaks out of the freezer and washed potatoes for baking for dinner that evening.

By that time Pamela had arrived to do the Monday cleaning. Marlena went into her own quarters to stay out of Pamela’s way. There she did a little cleaning of her own, pulling out the dusty old suitcase that she’d brought with her to Bachelor Moon from Chicago and opening it in the storage area to eventually begin to pack.

Pamela worked until one o’clock and then left, her chores taking less time since the only guests were the three men. Once she was gone, Marlena was surprised and a bit dismayed when a knock came at the door, and she looked out to see Thomas Brady on the porch.

“I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he said as she let him inside and gestured him toward the sofa in the great room. “How are you holding up?”

“As well as I can.” She sat on the far side of the sofa from him, aware that the agents hadn’t yet cleared him off their persons of interest list.

“Is there anything I can do? You must be worried sick about Sam and Daniella and little Macy.”

“I am worried,” she replied.

“You know I’m here for you whenever you need me, Marlena.” His gaze was soft and caring. “I just don’t know how to help you through this difficult time.”

Even though she felt no personal fear of him, she couldn’t help but notice again how much at ease he seemed without Sam and Daniella’s presence in the house. His arm was flung across the back of the sofa as if he owned it, and he appeared completely relaxed.

“Maybe what you need is a nice dinner out. Surely you aren’t responsible for feeding the FBI agents seven nights a week. How about this Friday you take some time off for yourself and let me take you out and wine and dine you?”

Marlena realized it was past time to put an end to this romance that never was. “Thomas, I’ve appreciated your friendship over the past year, but my feelings for you are always just going to be as a friend, nothing romantic.”

“Ouch.” His smile crumbled and his brown eyes darkened. He pulled his arm from the back of the sofa and leaned toward her. “Are you sure with more time the friendship wouldn’t develop into something romantic? Because I have to tell you the truth, Marlena. I definitely feel very romantic feelings toward you, and I have since the moment we met.”

“I’m sorry,” Marlena replied, truly meaning it. She knew all about unrequited love, about the pain of rejection, but she also knew she couldn’t allow Thomas to go on pretending that they were in any way involved in a romantic relationship.

“This isn’t something that’s going to build into a romance with more time,” she replied. “Besides, if the FBI allows it, I intend to move away from here in the next week or so. I’m sorry, Thomas, but you deserve to find a wonderful woman who will love you with all her heart. I’m just not her.”

“I knew it,” he finally replied. “I knew you didn’t feel the same for me as I did for you. I feel it when we’re together, but I had hoped with more time it would change.” He shrugged and stood. “This place won’t be the same without you and Cory around, but I guess I’ll be leaving you alone now.”

He walked toward the door, and when he reached it, he turned back to look at her. “I hope you have a great life, Marlena. Wherever you go, whomever you wind up with, I wish you only happiness.”

“And the same for you,” she replied.

She remained on the sofa for a few minutes after he’d gone. Life might have been easier if she’d fallen head over heels in love with Thomas. She believed he was a good man, and found it hard to believe that he might have had anything to do with whatever had happened to the Connelly family. Thomas was a hard worker who lived in a nice ranch house that had more than enough room for a wife and a brother-in-law young enough to be considered a stepson.

Cory could have remained here, working with John. She would have been able to maintain the friendships she’d made in Bachelor Moon, and she knew Thomas was a man who would have been satisfied with her being a homemaker and mother.

But instead she found herself precariously close to loving a man who would never love her back, a man she’d already had steamy-hot sex with and a man who would probably never think of her again once they parted ways.

She could only hope that the beginning of finding true happiness and love was just around the corner, that starting fresh with new purpose and drive would bring different things and exciting people into her life.

Nobody could be as exciting as Gabriel, a little voice whispered in her head. Nobody will ever match the way he loved your body, that voice taunted.

“Shut up,” she said aloud, and got off the sofa, deciding that maybe she’d cut some fresh flowers for bouquets for the house.

The late afternoon air was hot and humid as she walked down to the gardening shed, and grabbed a wicker basket and cutting shears. She schooled her mind to blankness as she went about the pleasure of picking out the most colorful blooms that would make the prettiest bouquets.

Daniella had loved to keep the house filled with fresh flowers, and John kept the flower beds blooming throughout the heat of the summer.

By the time she had her basket full, it was almost three o’clock. She put the shears back in the shed and then hurried into the house, hoping to get the bouquets made before it was time to start supper preparations.

As she worked on arrangements, not only for the center of the dining room table but also smaller ones for the bedrooms where the men slept, she found her thoughts drifting to Gabriel.

He’d given her just enough of a peek into his childhood to understand how he felt about love and about loving. She got it, and yet she had responded to her own mother’s abandonment by wanting love more than ever. She and Gabriel were flip sides of the same coin.

She would guess that they both suffered abandonment issues, but they had responded in diametrically opposite ways. She could only hope that someday in the future he would discover the desire to love and be loved. Maybe someday a very special woman would be able to break through the shield he’d erected to keep himself from any more pain when it came to love.

It hurt her more than she expected to know that she wasn’t that woman. It surprised her to realize how badly she wished she could be that woman for him.

Carrying the two smaller arrangements of flowers up the stairs, she decided to place the one with sweet peas in Gabriel’s room. The heady scent of the blooms might please him. He wouldn’t know that she’d specifically chosen the prettiest of the arrangements for his room.

Once she’d delivered the flowers, she started down the stairs, but paused on the first step as she heard a noise from someplace behind her.

Before she could turn, before she could consciously assess what kind of sound it had been, hands shoved her back. Just like the night at the pond, she had a moment of weightlessness, only this time there wasn’t a dark pond to fall into—there were thirteen steps that in the span of an instant she knew she was going to hit.

* * *

G
ABRIEL
, A
NDREW
AND
Jackson stood in Sheriff Thompson’s small office as he filled them in on the details of the debacle in the storage unit with the dead gators.

Thompson sat back in his leather chair behind his desk and scratched his protruding belly, then leaned forward with a deep frown cutting across his broad forehead.