Scene Of The Crime: Means And Motive. Carla Cassidy
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This brief conversation was enough to let him know that he and FBI Special Agent Jordon James wanted very different things in life. He wasn’t sure why, but this fact gave him a bit of peace of mind.
For the first time since she’d arrived he relaxed. “I’m glad you’re here, Jordon.”
“Thanks, Chief Walters. Does that mean lunch is on you?”
He smiled at her. “Yes, lunch is on me, and please call me Gabriel.”
The sexy smile she flashed him in return instantly surged an unwanted tension back in his belly.
* * *
JORDON STRETCHED WITH her arms overhead and got up from the table. She’d been seated in the small conference room alone for the last couple of hours reading all the information that had been gathered on the murders at the bed-and-breakfast.
She definitely admired how Gabriel and his team had conducted such thorough investigations following each of the crimes. She’d also been aware of the respect shown to Gabriel among everyone in the station.
Nobody had joked or been overly familiar with him, indicating to her that he ran a tight ship and kept himself somewhat distant from his staff. Despite that fact, she’d sensed that he was not only respected, but also well liked.
She paced the length of the table, and her brain whirled with all the information she’d gained in the past three hours of intense study. Still, as thorough as the investigations had been, it was all information that yielded no answer as to who was responsible for the three homicides.
Several times throughout the past couple of hours of being cooped up in the conference room, a female officer named Jane Albright had occasionally popped her head in to see if Jordon needed anything. Only once had Jordon requested a cup of coffee.
The murder crime photos had been utterly gruesome and had built up not only a surge of frustration, but also a rich anger inside her. She wanted this perp caught before another person was killed and before Joan and Ted Overton were forced to close their doors and lose their livelihood.
She opened the conference room door, stepped out into the short hallway and headed to Gabriel’s office. She gave two quick raps on his door, and when she heard his deep voice respond, she walked in.
He looked ridiculously handsome seated behind a large wooden desk, a computer on one side and a stack of files at his right. He started to rise but she waved him back down and sat in a chair opposite the desk.
“Looks like a lot of work,” she said and pointed to the files.
“The usual...break-ins, purse-snatchings, robberies and the occasional car theft.” He leaned back in the leather chair, his blue eyes gazing at her expectantly.
“If you’re waiting for me to give you the name of the killer, don’t hold your breath. After reading the files I’m as aggravated as I’m sure you are. This guy is obviously smart and organized. He’s not only managed to commit three hideous murders but he’s also escaped each scene with nobody seeing him and leaving nothing behind.”
He stood. “We can talk about it more on the drive to Mouse’s Maze of Mirrors.”
A knot spun tight in her chest. “Mouse’s Maze of Mirrors?”
He nodded. “It’s a fairly new attraction on the strip, and on most afternoons and evenings Kevin Rollings works the door.”
She got up from her chair and fought against the unsteady shake of her legs. “I definitely think a chat with Kevin is in order.”
Minutes later they were in Gabriel’s car and headed to the popular 76 Country Boulevard, where, he explained, most of the theaters, eateries and attractions were located.
As he pointed out places of interest, she tried to still the faint simmer of panic inside her. See how I got mirrors all set up so you can see yourself? You can watch yourself scream. Ralph Hicks’s gravelly voice filled her head.
The creep had placed three large mirrors in front of all of his victims so they could watch while he tortured them. It had been a horrid form of torture in and of itself.
Buck up, buttercup, she told herself firmly. She’d survived the mirrors and Ralph Hicks. She refused to let those long hours in the cellar affect her now or define who she was. She could deal with a silly maze of mirrors without freaking out.
“I definitely think Kevin Rollings looks good as a potential suspect. His alibis for the other murders weren’t exactly stellar,” she said, shoving away the haunting memories of her past to focus on the here and now.
“It’s tough to break an alibi substantiated by another family member. His brother Glen swore Kevin was at his house drinking and then passed out on his sofa at the time of both the previous murders.”
“And of course Glen would have a motive to lie to save his brother’s hide,” she replied.
“I turned up the heat when I questioned Glen, but he stuck with the story.” Gabriel turned into a parking lot in front of a large brown building with a huge picture of a demented-looking mouse painted on the siding. “We’ll see what kind of alibi Kevin comes up with for the time of Sandy’s murder.”
As they got out of the car and approached the building, the sun broke out of the layer of clouds and gleamed on the rich darkness of Gabriel’s hair.
He walked with confidence, as if he owned the space around him. Salt of the earth...a traditional man with traditional values and three murders that he was desperate to solve.
He seemed to have taken these crimes personally, otherwise she’d be working with somebody else rather than the chief himself. She hoped together they could get this killer behind bars, where he belonged.
There were no other cars in the lot. There had been few cars on the road. Obviously mid-January after a snowfall was a slow time for the entire town.
They entered into a small lobby with a turnstile and a counter behind which Kevin Rollings sat. Although considerably older than Ed, Kevin had the same blond hair, the same round face as his brother, but that was where the similarities ended.
“I figured you’d be coming to talk to me,” he said with a deep scowl that transformed his pleasant features into something mean and ugly.
“You figured right,” Gabriel said and then introduced Jordon.
“Got the feds involved in local business.” Kevin shook his head and sniffed as if he smelled something dirty.
“Nice to meet you, Kevin. We had a nice chat with your brother Ed early this morning and he had so many wonderful things to say about you.” Jordon beamed a smile at the man.
“Ed’s a damn fool,” Kevin replied. “He’s nothing more than a glorified lawn boy.”
“What I’d really like to know is where you were on Sunday night,” Jordon replied, cutting to the chase.
Kevin smiled, a tight slash of lips that didn’t begin to reach his eyes. “That’s easy. I met up with a couple of buddies for beers at Hillbilly Harry’s. We were there until about midnight and then I went home and crashed out. I’ve got to admit I was pretty trashed. I could barely stumble from my car to the front door.”
“Good thing I didn’t meet you on the road. You’d have been looking at a little jail time and a DUI,” Gabriel said.
“Kevin, do you live by yourself?” Jordon asked, not wanting the conversation to get off track.
“Yeah. My wife left me two months after the Diamond Cove went into bankruptcy. And yeah, I hold a grudge about the whole thing. If the damned bank would have just given me a little more time, things would have been fine.”
His nostrils flared as he continued. “Now I’m working a minimum-wage crap job and barely making ends meet. I don’t have anything to do with the Overtons. It’s bad enough their kids hang