Scene of the Crime: Return to Mystic Lake. Carla Cassidy

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Scene of the Crime: Return to Mystic Lake - Carla  Cassidy

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one.”

      At that moment June arrived with their burgers, and for a few minutes they both focused on their food. Marjorie ate quickly, obviously eager to get back on the road and moving.

      “So, who are we talking to in Mystic Lake?” he asked as he dragged a French fry through a pool of ketchup.

      “Our point person there is Deputy Roger Black. He wasn’t at the scene last night but we’re to meet him in his office when we hit town. He’s acting sheriff until Cole is found,” she said.

      “Has he managed to get us any suspects? Mentioned anything Cole was working on?”

      “I’ve only had a brief conversation with him and we didn’t get into the details. I’m hoping he’ll have some information when we meet with him.” She looked at her watch and then quickly took another bite of her burger.

      “How long have you been on the job?” he asked.

      “Two years. I joined the FBI when I turned thirty. I was a cop before that.” She used a napkin to dab her mouth. “What about you?”

      “Seven years. I was twenty-eight when they tapped me for recruitment. And like you, before that I was working as a homicide cop and working with a behavioral unit to aid in profiling violent offenders. My work there caught the FBI’s eyes and here I am.”

      “But there’s no indication that what we’re dealing with here is a particularly violent offender.” Her eyes shimmered with the need to believe that.

      Jackson sighed. He’d made a vow long ago to himself that he would never, ever lie to a woman, no matter how painful the truth might be.

      “It’s too early to know,” he finally replied. “All we know for sure right now is that it appears that nothing violent occurred at Cole’s house.”

      A look of pain tightened her features. She might appear uptight and in control, but Jackson had a feeling she was soft, too soft for the job she was doing.

      “I’m hoping at least Deputy Black can give us somewhere to begin,” Marjorie said when they were once again in the car and headed to Mystic Lake.

      “Have you considered the possibility that they might be dead?” Jackson asked softly.

      He saw the impact of his words in the swift etch of pain that once again crossed her features, in the tightening of her fingers around the steering wheel. “It’s too early in the investigation to come to that conclusion. We have a lot of things to accomplish before we even consider that.”

      “It’s been four days since anyone has heard from them.” He wanted to prepare her for whatever they might discover. He was also surprised to realize that he somehow wanted to protect her.

      He chalked it up to the fact that she was a relatively new agent while he was a seasoned veteran who had seen the horrible things people were capable of doing to each other.

      “I know, but we have absolutely no evidence to support that they’ve been murdered.”

      “Right now we don’t even have the evidence to support that they’ve been kidnapped,” he reminded her.

      “All I know for sure is that something bad has happened to them and we need to figure out what it was, who it is who’s kept Amberly away from her son.”

      Jackson didn’t want to remind her that the case he’d been working on in Bachelor Moon had involved three people who had gone missing and had yet to be found. No answers, no closure...nothing.

      Still, he couldn’t imagine how this case in Mystic Lake, Missouri, would be related to the case in Bachelor Moon, Louisiana. The two small towns were about a thousand miles away from each other. It had to be some sort of strange coincidence.

      He hoped it was just a coincidence, because if the two cases were tied together he knew with certainty that they were way over their head.

      * * *

      “I’VE GOT A COUPLE OF NAMES of people for you to check out, although I don’t have any evidence that either of them were involved.” Roger Black looked ill at ease seated in the chair behind the large oak desk that belonged to his boss.

      “What I’m hoping is that Cole decided to surprise Amberly with an impromptu late honeymoon and they’re off on some exotic island enjoying their time alone,” he added.

      “Did Cole mention a trip?” Marjorie asked, hoping that there might be a possibility of a happy ending, after all. Maybe John had forgotten plans for a honeymoon that the couple had.

      “Nothing specific, but it wasn’t too long ago he said he had a mind to surprise Amberly with a trip to the Bahamas,” Roger replied.

      “Have you checked financials? Talked to airlines?” Jackson asked.

      Roger swept a hand through his brown hair. “To be honest with you, we haven’t done much of anything since we heard the Feds were being called in. According to the mayor, you are in charge. I’ve got my men ready to cooperate and do whatever you tell us to do.”

      “We’ve already lost a lot of time,” Marjorie said.

      Roger shrugged. “We didn’t really get worried about them until last night. It’s not a crime for two consenting adults to take off somewhere or not be where they are supposed to be.”

      “The first thing we want you to do is assign somebody to look at both Cole and Amberly’s financials, see if anything has moved since last Friday night,” Jackson said. “Check back over the last three months or so. If Cole bought tickets to an exotic island, then we’ll find proof of that.”

      Roger nodded. “I’ll get Deputy Ray McCloud on it right away. He’s our techie freak. If there’s a paper trail, so to speak, of anything like that, he’ll find it.”

      “I also want you to assign a couple of officers to walk the streets, ask questions and see if we can find anyone who had any contact with the missing couple after Friday night. And you mentioned a couple of names for us?” Marjorie asked.

      She wanted action. She needed to be doing something to move the investigation forward as quickly as possible. Jackson was right—she worked like a dog until conclusions were reached and bad guys were arrested. She was a hare, not a tortoise.

      “I know Cole was having some issues with Natalie Redwing,” Roger said.

      Jackson pulled out his notepad and pen. “What kind of problems?”

      “She was kind of, like, stalking him.” Roger gave a dry laugh. “Cole thought she was harmless, but irritating.” He gave them her address.

      “Who else?” Marjorie asked.

      “Jeff Maynard. He’s a bartender at Bledsoe’s on Main Street. He didn’t like Cole and he definitely didn’t like Amberly. He’s a hothead loser, although I doubt he has the brains to kidnap a couple of people and not leave any clues behind. Off the top of my head those are the only two I’ve ever heard about Cole having any issues with.”

      Minutes later, armed with address information, Jackson and Marjorie left the small sheriff’s

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