Born to Die Page 17

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’ll come back, as soon as I can.”

  “That right there is reason enough for me not to get my hopes up. The first time, I was stupid enough to believe you’d realize what you’d left and come back, but I gave up after a year. Last time … I held no illusions. What makes it different this time?”

  He didn’t know how to answer her without telling her about Mother. And asking Cassy if she had gone snooping around in his past was throwing gas on the fire, and a fight was the last thing he wanted tonight. Tonight, he just wanted to be with her.

  Boyce gave into his urges and cupped her cheek, tracing the scar’s path with the pad of his thumb. She didn’t retreat; she merely closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Taking a step closer, he slipped his hand around her waist and pressed it into the small of her back. A tremor took hold of her body, and she let her head fall against his chest.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “I’m starving, but I don’t know if I can eat.”

  “Let me see if I can entice you with my culinary skills.”

  Her chuckle was cut off by a strangled sound. She stepped out of his embrace and rubbed her eyes. Heaving a sigh of exhausted defeat, she peered up at him. “Okay.”

  • • •

  He held Cassy close, imprinting everything about tonight deep into his memory. Leaving her while she slept was the coward’s way out, but staying until morning only gave her a chance to press her unanswered question of how this leaving would be different.

  After dressing, Boyce crouched next to the bed and drank in the sight of her relaxed features. He tucked a wayward lock behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the silky hair. She was beautiful. She was everything he wasn’t: strong, dependable, and virtuous. He was a liar, a rogue, and a bastard, all things she despised. Yet, somehow, this woman had broken him. Kissing his fingertips, he placed them to her lips and then left the bedroom.

  Creeping through the house, he paused in the living room to gaze at her festively decorated Christmas tree. The holiday was almost on them. He didn’t know what a true Christmas celebration was like. He usually spent the time avoiding Mother and her parade of men or working hard on some case that seemed more important. It seemed this year would be the same.

  Would it ever be possible for him to experience the holiday with a woman like Cassy? Wishful thinking. He shook his head and quietly exited the house.

  As expected, the company car sat down the lane a ways with Liza behind the wheel. He’d texted her with an approximate time to pick him up. Feeling like the heel he was, he hunched inside his coat and headed for the car.

  He would come back to her. He didn’t know when, but he wouldn’t fail her in this.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A sense of loss enveloped Cassy as she woke. She rolled over. Boyce was gone. She ran her hand along the pillow and down the length of the bed, following the rumpled sheets where his body had laid. His scent lingered, teasing her senses and making her tear up. She’d hoped he’d leave this morning, give her a few more moments with him.

  Embracing the pillow, she tucked it against her chest and buried her nose into it. Breathing deep the faded scent of key lime, she released a sob. It hurt worse this time. Why? Because his leaving was different? He hadn’t given her some flippant reason and marched out of her life like the first time or just run off as he had the second. No, this time he’d been sincere, tender, and adamant about getting back to her. He’d been reluctant to go, like it was killing him.

  What could have been so important for Memphis to call him back, even with a valid reason to leave him here in Eider?

  Cassy lifted her head from the pillow, flipped it back to its spot on the bed, and sat up. Drawing her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and settled her chin on her kneecaps. He’d been evasive about the actual reason. She swiped the tears from her cheeks. Was it about his mother? That woman was the proverbial elephant in the room every time they were together. He hid the woman’s existence from her, and Cassy kept her knowledge of Ruby Jean Gladstone close to her vest. Neither admitted to their secrets and lies, and yet Cassy couldn’t figure out why she didn’t take the first step. What was it about Ruby Jean that made both of them try to out-gambit the other until someone showed their hand?

  Cassy checked the digital alarm clock next to her bed; half past seven. She was already running behind. She left her bed and went straight to the bathroom. A long, hot shower revived her and gave her a chance to bawl her eyes out.

  Half-dressed in her uniform, she padded in socked feet into the kitchen. The two lone wine glasses were the only vestiges of their meal together last night. Tears welled up in her eyes. Damn it, she had to get past this.

  Her cell’s ringtone shattered her self-pity. She fumbled from the kitchen to the entryway, where her coat still lay on the floor. Retrieving the phone, she answered breathlessly.

  “Deputy Rivers, there’s another robbery in progress.” Jolie’s voice held a hint of panic.

  “Where?”

  “Eider First National.”

  • • •

  Cassy was the second to arrive on the scene because the bank sat on the edge of town, still within city limits, but closer to her home. A silent Eider squad car was parked on the opposite end of the street, blocking any escape or entry. She parked her truck in the same fashion on her end of the street. She bailed from the cab, leaving the door open, and with her hand on her weapon, she hurried over to the two police officers.

  “Are they still in there?” she called out.

  “We think so,” the older officer answered. He pointed at three vehicles neatly parked in their slated spots in the lot. “There are employees in there.”

  “Shit,” she spit. Cuing up her radio on her shoulder, she hailed Jolie. “Dispatcher, alert all responding units, we could have a hostage situation.” Silence met her report. She hunkered down with the city officers behind their car. “How long have you been here?”

  “Five minutes, maybe,” the younger officer answered.

  “Gunfire?”

  “None.”

  “How do we know there’s a robbery?” she asked.

  “Silent alarm was tripped.”

  The older officer shifted his weight. “Nothing has happened since we got here. We were told to hang back until reinforcements arrived.”

  “ETA on those reinforcements?”

  “Don’t know.”

  She grabbed her radio. “Murdoch, am I getting backup?”

  “Coming,” was the reply.

  “When?”

  The sound of approaching vehicles reached her just as the answer came over the radio from Nash. “Now, Rivers.”

  “That makes four of us,” the older officer said.

  Cassy chanced a peek over the squad car hood. If one of those cars was the robbers’, they wouldn’t have parked there—it’d be sitting in front of the doors with the engine running. “Where’s the suspect’s vehicle?”

  “Don’t know. We’re thinking out back.”

  The bank bordered a county park, which gave the robbers a perfect getaway if they’d placed their vehicle in there.

  “We need people behind the bank. Do we have anyone checking the park?” she asked the officers.

  “We asked dispatch to send a unit there.”

  Nash’s car pulled up on the opposite side of the city police car, and he copied their positioning behind his own car. “Sheriff’s coming with that FBI agent,” he called out to them.

  “What do we do?” the older officer asked. “This kinda shit doesn’t happen in our town.”the older officer said.

  By the time anyone had arrived at the Eider Savings Bank robbery, the thieves were long gone, and the responding units were helping the injured and scared. The bank employees had been so caught off guard by what was happening, they didn’t know what to do, and that was all the robbers needed to get what they’d come for and ma
ke good on their escape.

  But Eider First National hadn’t even opened the lobby doors yet.

  “I don’t know.” She leaned into the side of the car, evaluating the bank’s glass front door. “Has anyone tried making contact inside the building?”

  “The chief was going to try, last we heard. SWAT is supposedly waiting to go operational if the robbers are still in there.”

  “Nash? See if we can get a line inside.”

  He nodded and radioed Jolie. Cassy adjusted her stance, her legs and knees screaming from her prolonged crouched position.

  “Oh my God,” the younger officer blurted.

  Cassy glanced at him and then in the direction he was gaping. The front door was lodged open by a woman’s body. A bloodied hand lifted, and she cried out for help.

  Both men moved to stand, but Cassy’s grip on one’s shoulder and the other’s arm stalled them. She jerked them back down. “No. We maintain the perimeter.”

  “She’s hurt,” he hissed.

  “Kid, I know you’re new to the job and you haven’t been in a situation like this, but keep your damn head down or it’ll get blown off,” the older officer admonished.

  “What he said,” Cassy replied.

  The injured woman cried out again, pleading that she was alone. Cassy signaled Nash. He nodded and reached into the back of his car to pull out his shotgun.

  “Where the hell is the SWAT unit when you need them?” the younger officer muttered.

  More police vehicles were arriving. Through the trees, Cassy spotted the familiar coloring of the sheriff’s truck and another Eider police squad car.

  “Reinforcements are here.” She duck-walked to the end of the car. “Ma’am! Are the robbers there?”

  “No. Please, oh, God, help me. They’re gone.”

  Nash signaled that he’d take over. “Ma’am, listen to me, you need to come to us.”

  The poor woman sobbed. “Please, help me.”

  “I’m trying,” Nash cajoled.

  Cassy’s radio crackled. “Deputy Rivers, there’s no answer in the bank,” Jolie told her.

  Signaling Nash that she was leaving, Cassy headed for Hamilton as he approached. Eider’s SWAT team was assembling behind him. “Sir, what do you want us to do? No one is responding inside the bank, and the injured female says the robbers are gone.”

  Eider’s police chief joined them, his SWAT members standing at the ready right behind him. “Team is ready, Sheriff.”

  “Everyone else back, let them do their job,” Hamilton said.

  The men moved forward, and as they passed the injured woman—whom Nash had managed to cajole away from the doorway—one member peeled off and aided her back to the established perimeter. Cassy and Nash rushed forward and took her from the SWAT guy, who returned to his team. Behind the cars, they laid her on the cold pavement. Cassy knelt next to her. The woman was covered in blood, her clothing torn and ragged. Her hands grasped at Cassy’s coat, the backs shredded and dripping blood.

  “Ma’am, what happened to you?”

  She sobbed. “They shoved me through glass.”

  A tremor wracked Cassy’s body. The woman blubbered something about her coworkers. A heavy hand on Cassy’s back made her look up.

  Liza Bartholomew lowered herself next to Cassy and the injured bank employee. “Let’s get her away from here. The medics are hanging back.”

  Together, they lifted the woman between them and hurried her over to the second perimeter line behind the SWAT vehicle. More squad cars arrived, and Cassy spotted the EMS bus, where she and Liza hauled the hysterical woman. The paramedics team took the woman and tucked her safely inside the ambulance.

  Everything was moving too quickly. Cassy’s brain couldn’t keep up; she was acting on sheer instinct. And God only knew where this reaction had come from. It felt like war, and she’d never been in one. In the zone, she hurried back to Nash and the sheriff.

  The SWAT leader came out and gave the all-clear signal. Everyone converged on the bank, but Cassy screeched to a halt when she came face to face with the carnage. One SWAT member was stationed at the back exit, shotgun ready. She gaped at the two other bank employees, who were slumped on the floor, propped against a teller station with their hands duct-taped in front of them.

  Nash moved to kneel between the two, cutting away the tape. “They’re still alive.”

  She got down on the floor next to Nash, grasping her radio. “Someone send in the medics.”

  Nash smoothed back the hair on the second woman, revealing a large, bloodied gash on the side of her head. “They bashed her upside the head with a rifle or shotgun butt.”

  “Who does this?” Cassy heard herself ask the question but could barely comprehend that it came out of her mouth.

  Her gaze clashed with Hamilton’s. The hardened look on his face was a bit terrifying. “Twisted individuals.”

  The medics rolled into the bank and took over the care of the two employees. Agent Bartholomew was hot on their heels. She took a sweeping look at the building and muttered something. Cassy moved out of the medics’ way then slowly made a sweep on each side of the cubicles. The glass partition the first woman said she’d been pushed through had been a part of the manager’s office. Cassy swallowed the bile bubbling into her throat. Why shove her through it?

  Cash drawers hung open, their contents gone. Files lay strewn all over the place, some dotted with blood. At the drive-through window, the drawers where tossed on the floor or hanging open; they, too, were stripped of their cash. A frenzied attack, done early in the day, following the massacre of a family the day before.

  What the hell had this town come to?

  She became aware of a presence at her side. “Cass?”

  “What, Nash?”

  “You goin’ to be okay?”

  Cassy wiped her mouth. “I don’t know.” With a shake of her head, Cassy stalked out of the building and back outside into the fray.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she let her head fall back and stared at the sky. She squeezed her eyes shut at the first tingle of wet heat. She would not cry. Not here. Swallowing hard, she bowed her head and studied the cleaned pavement beneath her boots. A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she was propelled toward her truck.

  “Don’t fight me and don’t protest,” Liza said in her ear. She helped her sit in the cab, then gripped her knees, and looked her in the eye. “I know he just left, and I know you’re hurting, but you will not fall apart. Understand?”

  Cassy scowled. “I’m not falling apart.”

  “Yeah, I don’t believe you. I know it looks like a damn war zone over there, but you’re a seasoned cop and the daughter and sister of marines. This should be nothing for you.”

  “None of those things have a bearing on who I am.” She jabbed a finger at her scar. “See this? I nearly got my head blown off by my own brother-in-law when a freak tried to get me to kill my sister.” Cassy pointed back at the bank. “What I saw in there … what I saw at the Clydes’ … It makes my problems look trivial.”

  “Cassy—”

  “Save it, Agent Bartholomew. You don’t know me.”

  Someone called for Liza. She stared at Cassy a moment longer and then left.

  Cassy sagged in the truck seat, reclining her head against the headrest. Too much. It was all too much.

  • • •

  Boyce bypassed the bullpen where his fellow agents were busy at their desks, the four TVs displaying four different cable news stations, and went straight for the SAC’s office. He felt like shit, wanted more sleep, and was starting to wonder why he kept doing this job if it gave him no satisfaction. With his temper on the edge, Boyce had the sinking feeling he was going to blow any chance of getting out of meeting with Mother.

  His rapid-fire rap was answered with a muffled “come in.” He let the door swing shut behind him. “I’m reporting in, sir.”

  Special Agent in Charge Keith Ulrich gestured for Boyce to take a seat. “N
ice to see you were prompt about getting back to Memphis, Hunt.”

  “I still don’t see how my talking with my mother is going to aid in the case against her.” He sank into the uncomfortable wooden chair. “This meeting could create a firestorm.”

  “We feel differently. There’s enough evidence against her and her organization that a judge couldn’t begin to fathom throwing out or suppressing, even with your involvement in this instance.”

  That right there made Boyce pause. His direct involvement had always been frowned upon. “So, why meet? Set up a raid and take her down.”

  Ulrich’s phone rang. He held up a finger to indicate he needed a minute then picked up the phone.

  Crossing his legs, Boyce slumped an inch in the chair and pretended not to hear the one-sided conversation by studying the pictures and framed commendations hanging on the wall. The flashing TV through the lone window looking out into the bullpen caught Boyce’s eye. He squinted at the screen; the news station was broadcasting breaking news. His heart seized at the images.

  Bolting from the chair and startling Ulrich, Boyce exited the office and headed straight for the TV.

  “Residents are still reeling from the unexplained multiple homicides yesterday,” the reporter stated, “and now this.”

  The headline popped up. Armed robbery leaves three seriously injured and town in chaos.

  “The McIntire County sheriff and Eider police chief are expected to give official statements later this afternoon.”

  “Agent Hunt.”

  He waved off Ulrich. Where was she? Had she been involved? Damn it, he never should have left Cassy. In his gut, Boyce knew something like this was going to happen.

  “Hunt.” The warning tone in Ulrich’s voice made Boyce about-face. “Would you mind explaining what is so all-fired important that you’d walk away from me?”

  “There’s been another bank robbery in Eider, Iowa, the place I just left.”

  “And that should concern you how?”

  Boyce clamped his mouth shut, his teeth clicking together, as he stared his boss down.

  Ulrich’s eyes narrowed, and he left the threshold of his office to peer at the TV behind them. A contemplative expression crossed the older man’s features. “Wasn’t there a multiple homicide in that town yesterday?”