CHAPTER THREE
2087 Words
CHAPTER THREE
Bursting into the corridor, grasping her g*n, Stella faced up to the shadowy observer who’d been lurking outside her window.
To her astonishment, she found herself aiming her weapon at the equally shocked Special Agent Rick Maxwell – until recently, her investigation partner and potential love interest.
“Stella! Why are you holding your g*n?” he asked, sounding as startled as he looked.
Stella’s ice-blue eyes narrowed in fury as the fit, dark-haired Maxwell stepped toward her, his hands open in appeal.
He hadn’t come straight from work, because he was wearing jeans and a black sweater. Emotions boiled inside her as she looked into his dark eyes, taking in his repentant expression, the broad strength of his shoulders, the firm lines of his jaw.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped as she holstered her Glock.
She never wanted to see Maxwell again. She thought she’d made that very clear after recently discovering that he was still married. Separated, but still married to the blond, attractive Brigitte.
She wouldn’t have minded if he’d told her. Why hadn’t he been open about it when romance had first blossomed between them? If he’d explained he was still married, that Brigitte was desperate to try again but he didn’t want to, Stella would have understood the complications. But he hadn’t said a thing and that made Stella feel as if the rug had been ripped out from under her.
Maxwell had been her investigation partner. They’d depended on each other in life-and-death situations. How could he have kept such an important fact from her, knowing that she had trust issues because of her past, and that honesty was such a critical aspect of a relationship? She was terrified of becoming trapped in the same nightmare that she’d had with Vaughn.
Now, she hated that all the anger and betrayal was surging inside her again. She wanted to forget about those feelings, forever. All Stella could think of was to run, as far and fast as she could. There was no other possible option. There was too much pain. Too much old scarring.
“I came by because you weren’t answering my calls,” Maxwell said. “I want to discuss this issue with you, Stella. I really want to resolve this. I was an i***t. I knew what you’d been through, and how important truthfulness was to you, and I still kept things from you. I want to explain why I made such a bad decision. To help you understand.”
Now Stella felt frustrated. Why was Maxwell being so reasonable? How could he plead for resolution when he’d caused her so much anguish?
She shook her head. “I told you before, I don’t want to have anything to do with you. And you were standing in the corridor and watching my apartment. Now, and earlier, too. Why?”
“I wasn’t here earlier. I only got here a minute ago. I did stop before I reached your door. I was trying to figure out what to say. I should have realized you’d notice me outside. You never miss a detail.”
Now Maxwell sounded embarrassed.
If he was telling the truth, it meant there had been someone else earlier. And that brought in a whole new set of complications.
Fear gripped Stella as she thought about what this might mean. Right now, she couldn’t afford to be close to anyone.
“Maxwell, I’m not ready for this,” she tried to explain.
“Stella, let me at least apologize.” He spread his arms again.
Even as she hesitated, she heard the trill of her phone from the lounge.
It could be the Kansas detective on the line, needing more information. That was at the forefront of Stella’s mind as she rushed back inside and grabbed it.
It wasn’t the detective. Instead, Stella found herself speaking to Special Agent Roth, who was in charge of the FBI New Haven branch.
“Fall. Do you have a minute to speak?”
“Of course, Roth,” she replied quickly.
Hovering in the doorway, Maxwell looked intrigued at the mention of their boss’s name.
“We have an urgent case that’s just been called in. A murder down at the South Sands Yacht Club. You’ll be handling it, and I’d like to brief you on it as soon as possible. Can you come in now?”
A case! Three weeks of office work while her hand healed had felt like an eternity. Now, she’d be back in the field. Doing what she felt called to do.
She had no idea what the circumstances were, or who Roth would decide to partner her with, but those were minor issues compared to the sheer exhilaration that she was on active duty again, and Roth needed her.
“Yes. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. See you then.”
She disconnected and turned to Maxwell.
“I have to go,” she said.
“What’s up?” She could see Maxwell had clocked how excited she was.
“There’s a new case that’s just come in,” Stella said. “Roth is going to brief me on it now.”
Instinctively, Maxwell’s hand flew to his phone.
“A new case? He hasn’t called me yet. Do you want to ride there together?” he asked.
It was time to drop the bombshell that Maxwell clearly didn’t yet know about.
Stella couldn’t help feeling guilty as she drew a breath to speak. Even though his own actions had caused the rift between them, she still knew he would feel betrayed.
“I asked Roth if I could be partnered with someone different for a while,” she explained, seeing the consternation appear in his face. “Roth said he’d consider it. So, if he hasn’t called you, it means I’ll be handling this with another agent.”
“But, Stella –”
“I have to go,” she repeated. “There’s a case waiting. I can’t discuss this now.”
“Okay.” Maxwell sounded angry and defiant. She knew he wanted to argue his side further, but his professionalism wouldn’t let him interfere at such a critical time. He turned away and she heard the annoyed stomp of his retreating footsteps.
Trying to put her conflicted feelings about Maxwell firmly out of her mind, Stella grabbed her purse and her jacket, closed her laptop, and put it into her bag. She slung the bag over her shoulder and was ready to go.
*
She reached the New Haven FBI office in just ten minutes. By the time she climbed out of the car, a light dusting of snow was falling. The cold flakes brushed over her hair as she hurried toward the well-lit FBI building.
Stella rushed through the security checkpoint at the main entrance and headed down the corridor to Roth’s office. On the way, she passed two agents leaving. Another three hurried in behind her, speaking in stressed voices as they took the stairs to the second floor. Crime never slept, and an urgent case could land at any hour.
She felt glad she’d been available immediately when Roth called. At the start of a case, every moment counted, and the sooner she could get onto this, the better.
“Fall.” Roth was waiting at the door. His harassed expression and untidy chestnut hair belied the fact that he was an extremely competent and skilled workaholic. In the two months Stella had known him, she’d grown to admire his dedicated work ethic, and also his strong focus on integrity.
“Evening, boss,” she greeted him with a smile.
“Glad you could get here so quick. This is going to be an urgent case. I’ll explain why in a moment. Come through,” Roth said.
He gestured to his office.
Looking through the glassed window, Stella felt her heart thud into her shoes.
Carrie Potts was glowering back at her.
Ever since Stella had rashly requested to be partnered with Carrie, she’d regretted her decision, and had hoped that Roth would choose somebody else to pair up with her. Someone more experienced. Someone who didn’t have a long-standing grudge against her and who hadn’t actively tried to sabotage her career.
Unfortunately, Roth had taken her words at face value, and in that moment, Stella realized how difficult this case was going to be. The tall, lean brunette clearly hadn’t expected to see her arrive, and was looking furious. She glowered at Stella through narrowed eyes.
Ignoring the tense atmosphere that had descended, Roth bustled into the office ahead of her.
“It’s a madhouse here this weekend. We have two senior agents off duty – one broken leg, one gunshot wound,” Roth summarized. “As a result, we’re very short staffed. I’m going to help where I can, but I can’t be involved full time. So, let me brief you two.”
Quickly, Stella sat down, noting that Carrie edged deliberately away from her.
“The victim’s name is Patrick Coleridge. The murder took place at the South Sands Yacht Club, in Greenwich,” Roth said.
Greenwich. Stella felt sick inside. Greenwich was where the Marshalls lived. She did not want to venture onto their home turf at such a time. The South Sands club wasn’t the same one that her ex’s family had frequented. She hadn’t heard of it, but being in the same area, it was way too close for comfort.
“One of the other club members found the body about half an hour ago. The victim’s car was in the parking lot, and he was lying on a walkway between the temporary parking area and the club. The main parking is currently under renovation,” Roth explained.
“Any cameras, any footage?” Carrie asked.
“No. Due to the renovations, there were no cameras operational in that area,” Roth said. “There are cameras in the club’s lobby, I believe.”
“And why are we involved? Is there a political angle?” Stella asked. She needed to get this question on the table but dreaded beyond words that Patrick Coleridge would be politically connected. If so, then without a doubt, she’d be rubbing up against the Marshall family again.
“No. We’re involved because he’s a British national. The case is urgent, as he’s a prominent member of the local community and it was a very violent crime. The city council has already been in communication with the local police. They’re worried about bad press affecting tourism and business in the area. I don’t know more details at this stage. I’m sure there will be much more information available at the scene, but it’s a long drive to south Greenwich, so you should probably get going now.”
Stella nodded. She guessed it would take an hour and a half to reach their destination, and it was already after nine p.m.
Carrie stood up and marched out. Quickly grabbing her things, Stella followed.
Without speaking, Carrie led the way out of the FBI New Haven building, and to the parking lot.
“Do you want to drive, or shall I?” Stella asked.
In silence, Carrie opened the door of her unmarked and climbed in the driver’s side.
Well, Stella guessed that was an answer of sorts.
“I wonder what the circumstances were,” she thought out loud, as she got in the passenger side.
Carrie didn’t answer. She started up the car and drove out of the parking lot in silence.
“Have you been to that yacht club before?” Stella asked. “I haven’t heard of it.”
Carrie was a local who had grown up in Bridgeport, and Stella hoped that her knowledge of the area might provide them with an advantage. But again, Carrie didn’t answer. Her response was nothing more than a small headshake.
Giving up on conversation, Stella lapsed into silence. This was going to be a long and awkward drive, and she was aware it represented only the first step in what she now knew was going to be a personally difficult investigation.
The sooner this case could be solved, the better, Stella thought. The combination of Carrie as a partner, and the crime having been committed in the Marshalls’ home turf, was making her feel scared, vulnerable, and way out of her depth.
She was heading into trouble, in more ways than one.
- Writer
