Scene of the Crime Mystic Lake - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,1
door, his handsome face wreathed in a smile as he gave Max a fist pump and then smiled at Amberly. “Just dinner or overnight?”
“I don’t know yet. I got a text to see Director Forbes as soon as possible. I’m not assigned right now to anything specific, so I have no idea what to expect. I’ll call you?”
“We’ll be here,” he said as he scuffed the top of Max’s gleaming black hair.
Twenty minutes later, Amberly walked into the downtown Kansas City FBI building. She flashed her badge and identification to the security guard on duty, despite the fact that she’d been coming into the office at least five days a week for the past eight years, since four weeks after her twenty-second birthday.
The passion she should have felt for John when they’d married had always been superseded by her passion for her job. She’d known in her heart as she’d walked down the wedding aisle that she was making a mistake, but three months pregnant and desperate to create a family unit for the baby she carried, she’d said “I do.”
For the next three years she had tried to make it work. But she’d known her own unhappiness with the marriage and had sensed John’s. Ultimately, she’d left the marriage behind when Max was two, with the determination to keep the divorce as friendly and healthy for her son as possible.
All thoughts of John and her failed marriage fled her head as she knocked on Director Daniel Forbes’s door. “Enter,” his deep voice boomed.
She opened the door to see her boss seated at his desk. Even sitting, he was an imposing figure with his steel-gray hair and matching eyes.
“Agent Nightsong.” He gestured her into the chair in front of his desk. “Mystic Lake.”
Amberly blinked. It always took her a minute or two to adjust to Director Forbes’s form of abrupt communication. There were times she wasn’t sure if he knew nouns and verbs could be used to form a complete sentence. She waited for him to continue.
“You know it?”
“Not well. Small town about twenty miles from here.” When she was with Director Forbes she found herself talking in sentence fragments, as well, as if he had a communication disease that was contagious. “Problems?”
“Three murders. Ritualistic overtones. The third victim was found forty-five minutes ago.”
“Have we been invited in?” Amberly asked.
Forbes frowned, a deep vertical cut appearing in the center. “The mayor called me. Doesn’t want us in officially but would like somebody there to unofficially aid law enforcement.”
“So, local law enforcement isn’t eager.”
“That’s probably an understatement,” he replied. “You’re assigned in a consulting capacity, and they’re holding the latest scene for your arrival. It’s in the city park. Your contact is Sheriff Cole Caldwell.” He gave a curt nod of his head toward the door, his official dismissal.
Minutes later, Amberly was back in her car and headed to the small town of Mystic Lake. All she knew about the little town was that it was built at the edge of a small lake and that its Main Street had a reputation for quaint antique shops, crafty boutiques and intriguing eateries, which drew tourists during the summer months.
As she drove, she reached into the center section of her car console and withdrew a length of red licorice from a package she kept stashed there. She’d quit smoking on the day she’d found out she was pregnant with Max, changing that addiction to one for red licorice.
Sheriff Cole Caldwell. She chewed thoughtfully. She could just imagine what she would be up against, some good old boy who ran the place with an iron fist and wore a fat belt buckle to hold in his immense beer belly.
In her experience, small-town sheriffs hated two things—anyone questioning their authority and FBI agents. She glanced at her watch. It was already almost five. She might as well give John a call and tell him it was going to be an overnighter with Max.
She had no idea what she was walking into, but if it was serial kills with ritualistic overtones, then she had a feeling there were going to be a lot of overnighters with John for Max in the near future.
She took the highway exit that would lead to the town north of Kansas City. One of the things she loved about this city was the fact that within a fifteen-minute drive, you could be out of the concrete jungle and into rolling pastures and shady woodlands.
There were times she thought about moving out