Beneath Blackwater River Leslie Wolfe (me reader txt) 📖

and less inviting as she noticed its cracked tiles and green-stained, copper faucets, but knowing it would soon become appealing once the air warmed up and the musty smell went. When hot water poured down, washing away the cold in her bones.

She turned to close the door and froze when she found him standing there, an intense look in his eyes.

He caressed her long, blond hair with gentle fingers, running his fingertips along the length of a strand, feeling its texture. It sent shivers down her spine, icing her blood and unsettling her skin.

“Tell me, my dear,” he asked, his voice a husky whisper. “Have you ever been touched?”

14New Case

Mile after mile the road back to Mount Chester was a straight stretch of asphalt, the markings brightly reflecting her headlights, but Kay’s mind was still back in the Glen Valley Commons room with Shelley when she had her stroke.

She went over the exchange in her mind again and again, the woman’s reactions not making an ounce of sense. Nothing in Rose’s disappearance made any sense, and now her mother’s reaction to the fact that her daughter could still be alive had been overtaken completely by the news of Alyssa Caldwell’s death.

Why did that matter to Shelley so much it triggered another stroke, this time a potentially fatal one? Who was Alyssa Caldwell to Shelley?

Kay recalled asking her if she knew Bill Caldwell; she’d actually asked her twice, and the answer had been no both times. Or had it? Perhaps Shelley hadn’t answered no to her question; maybe her words had been a desperate plea that wasn’t addressed to Kay; maybe to God, or to life itself. Whatever the truth was, Shelley had locked it deep inside her mind, and it would probably never be spoken of again.

When the emergency medical technicians had loaded her frail body into the ambulance, her vitals were so poor they didn’t anticipate she could survive the drive to the hospital. Kay drove ahead of them with her flashers on, opening the way, and when they took Shelley into surgery, her heart was still beating. Barely.

Kay entrusted Shelley into the hands of the emergency team and took the attending’s name and contact information to follow up later, despite the grim prognosis.

Then she headed back to Mount Chester, planning to pay Bill Caldwell a visit and officially notify him his daughter was dead, in the off-chance he wasn’t already aware, considering the media blunder with Rose Harrelson’s identity. The local media and TV stations had already released the victim’s photo, albeit with Rose’s name, and then the whirlwind of comments and questions triggered by the wrongful identification couldn’t be stopped, despite an intervention from the sheriff and the local judge.

Impatient, she checked her GPS for an estimated time of arrival at the Caldwell residence, and swallowed her frustration. Then her thoughts went back to Shelley, and her weird reaction. She’d been genuinely thrilled to hear it wasn’t her daughter who’d been killed. But it seemed as if there was something else going on, and Kay couldn’t put her finger on what that was, regardless of how many times she played back their conversation in her head.

A phone call interrupted her thoughts. Recognizing the name on the display, her eyes widened but she smiled as she took the call.

“Greg, what an unexpected pleasure.” Her smile lingered, wondering why her former supervisory agent at the FBI would call her a couple of months after she’d left.

“Likewise,” he replied, sounding relaxed. “I should’ve called sooner. How are things in Mount Chester?”

“Um, rural,” she replied laughing, “but there’s no place like home. I miss the office, the team, but I’m happy to spend some time with my brother.”

“That’s good,” he replied.

“And I’m working as a cop, if you can believe it,” she added, a wide smile coloring her voice. “I’m a detective, and I’m about to take the lieutenant’s exam.”

“So, you’re staying?” he asked, the cheerfulness in his voice gone.

She paused a beat and breathed. “For now,” she eventually said. “Won’t be forever, I promise. I’ll come back.”

“Okay, I’ll hold you to that, so you know.”

“It’s a deal,” she replied. “How’s everyone? Tell them I miss them all.”

“Stop by one day, Kay, don’t be a stranger.”

“Copy that, boss,” she replied, calling him what she used to, knowing it would make him curl his lip before laughing again.

“Until then, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Sure, just name it.”

“We landed a case, something from your jurisdiction, Detective.” He paused, and she heard the shuffling of papers on his desk. She could visualize him, speaking with her on hands-free while reviewing the case file nested in a manila folder. “It’s a domestic abuse case.”

“And why is it federal?” she asked. That almost never happened. In fact, she couldn’t think of a time when they’d been involved in domestic violence cases, no matter how serious.

“It’s because of who the allegedly abusive spouse is. A cop on your new team.”

“What? Really? I can’t think of anyone who—” She stopped mid-phrase, remembering that you never really know anyone, and even perceptive profilers as herself could be deceived into believing a lie, a carefully constructed façade. Especially if they weren’t paying much attention.

“Yeah, exactly,” SSA Strickland replied. He’d worked with her since the day she’d joined the regional bureau as a rookie, and had taught her how to think, how to keep herself from jumping to conclusions. “The wife claims she reported the abuse several times, only to have the report buried and her actions leaked back to her husband.”

“That’s terrible,” Kay reacted, imagining how awful that must’ve been. “Is she—”

“She’s still there, local, and she begged us to not go through the regular channels, because he would find out. Last time, he put her in the hospital with a broken cheekbone and four cracked ribs.”

“I’ll look into it,” she said. “I’ll need temporary reinstatement on the FBI systems. I won’t be able to do my work on the office laptop, if that’s