Cooper's Deale - Part 5
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Part 5

She resumed walking toward the water. "Actually, I do know those men. They're locals, two retired guys who go out fishing most mornings. They're okay."

They stumbled along the water's edge, their feet bogging more than once in the mud, made deeper by the previous evening's downpour.

A tall, white-haired man dressed in L.L. Bean fishing attire pointed to the ground. "Hey, Deputy. Come quick. Look what we found."

Karen squatted in the mud. At first she believed the rains had uncovered the body. She wanted to vomit but immediately suppressed the urge because of the onlookers. She had seen dead bodies before, especially in the army, but had never grown immune to the experience.

"Someone bashed his brains in," the shorter man said.

Addy was overcome with nausea. While it was true, hearing it spoken aloud in such a crude fashion sickened her. She turned her head away from the battered form. It was too late now-too late to tell Karen what she knew. Karen would wonder why she hadn't called her last night, as soon as she found Tommy standing over the body, his hands dripping with blood. How had everything gone wrong so quickly?

"I need to call the station." Karen straightened up with mud on the hem of her pants in addition to the back of her pant legs, already splattered with brown spots kicked up from her boot heels. Pointing to the men, she said, "You two stay here. I'll need to take your statements. Addy, come with me."

Karen stomped off through the mud and Addy followed her docilely. She knows. Or at least she suspects. What would she tell her? Yes, she'd come out last night hunting for Tommy, who never ventured out of the tree, only to find him standing over the body? And then she'd kept it a secret? G.o.d, she and Tommy were both going to wind up in prison.

As they approached the house, Addy chanced a look up at the tree house. Tommy stared down at her, his face expressionless.

She didn't know if he fully comprehended his actions, but if necessary, she would get an attorney to plead he was mentally incompetent to stand trial. Even so, they'd want to commit him to some type of inst.i.tution, and she couldn't allow that to happen either. She held her finger up to her lips and he nodded.

They entered the house through the kitchen and Karen told her to stay put while she went out to the patrol car to call in the crime. As she sat at the kitchen table waiting for Karen to return, she fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers. Oh, G.o.d. If she'd only said something sooner.

Frank stood at the window and trained his binoculars on the police as they wrapped wide yellow tape around a pine tree.

Eventually they'd get around to visiting their house, asking if they had seen anything unusual. No, Officer, we were watching the game and didn't see a thing.

"Now what are they doing, Frank?" Abel asked as he lit a cigarette.

"Well, by now they're probably hunting clues, anything that can help identify the body and who killed him. Luckily it rained last night and washed away footprints."

"Yeah, it's a good thing," Clarence said.

"Shut up, you idiot. If you'd been keeping an eye out like you were supposed to, that reporter would never have been able to spy on us." Frank drew a wallet out of his pocket, examining the contents. "He was only a local reporter. If he was worth his salt, he'd have been working for the big league. I don't think we have anything to worry about."

He tossed the wallet into the trash bin. He would personally burn it in the barrel after the police left so he didn't draw suspicion to the house. With this last piece of evidence gone, they should escape detection. Things might be hot for a while and they would have to lay low. But the cops would soon lose interest when they couldn't solve the crime. They would gradually stop coming every day, and Frank could return to his task. He wasn't in a hurry, but he was destined to make a name for himself-if not by being a war hero, then by getting back at the federal government.

The police were crawling around the property like little ants hurrying to gather food. Tommy supposed the activity had something to do with the man he had found down by the water, but he guessed Addy would fill him in later.

He was glad Karen was there to help. He liked Karen.

After Jeff Olson, she was his next best friend, and that was only because she was a girl. Addy was a girl too, and she was his sister, but Tommy wasn't so sure she was as good a friend as Jeff and Karen. It was nice to know that she would be living in the house, though, kind of like the way things used to be. He was happy then and wished things had never changed.

He sighed, got down on his hands and knees, and crawled under his bed. Pulling a nylon duffel bag out from underneath it, he unzipped it to reveal all the treasures he had found or been given over the years. Ignoring most of the contents, he dug around until he found what he wanted-that man's camera with the letters NI-K-O-N on the front. After Addy thought he was asleep last night, he had gone back to where the man was and picked it up. The word on it was funny, not like anything he'd ever seen, but he understood what a camera was. He held it up and saw his table through the viewfinder. He didn't know how to make it work, though. Maybe Karen would show him.

Karen had taught him how to do a lot of things, like whittle with his jackknife so that twigs looked like birds. Or how to rub two sticks together on a pile of dry leaves and start a fire. That was cool, but it was really hard. Tommy practiced, but still wasn't very good at it.

Maybe tomorrow, when all the other policemen weren't around, he'd ask her to come up and teach him how to make the camera work.

CHAPTER TEN.

As Liberty waited for her luggage at BWI, she scrutinized everyone in the claim area for signs of anything unusual.

Satisfied nothing was amiss, she gathered her bags and headed for the rental-car agency. A blast of heat and humidity a.s.saulted her when the automatic doors slid open. After spending two weeks wrapping up her last case in the milder climate of the Midwest, she noticed the contrast immediately. It promised to be a typical Fourth of July weekend in a few days, and she wiped her brow at the idea. Before retrieving her car, she got a map and directions to a small town called Deale on the Chesapeake.

The file she'd received about the new case contained reports from various scientists and their a.s.sessment of water samples from the area around Deale. These scientists, collaborating with the FBI, were also members of Infragard. Liberty had begun with the FBI as an IT a.n.a.lyst when Infragard's sole interest had been to monitor cybers.p.a.ce. But 9/11 changed all that. Her pa.s.sion for environmental issues had led her to become involved in the National Infrastructure Protection Center under the auspices of Homeland Security.

As she headed down the Parkway on her way to Deale, her cell phone rang-"Girls Just Want to Have Fun"-and she flipped it open.

"Liberty."

"You're to meet the Deale sheriff when you get there. He's a.s.signed a deputy to work with you." Her handler always dispensed with the niceties and got straight to the point. "They'll be the only ones who know your real ident.i.ty. Otherwise your cover is the same."

Liberty was proud of her national, and international, reputation as an environmental activist. She never had to pretend, though, that she cared about the water she drank, the air she breathed, or the animals that inhabited the earth. She believed in the well-being of the planet with all that was in her. It just happened to be a convenient cover for her work with the FBI.

"Additional agents are on the way to investigate the possible terrorism angle, but they've been told about you, why you're there, and the work you'll be doing with local law enforcement."

"Is the deputy any good?"

"She's a member of Infragard, so she knows the routine, and I personally read her file. Former Army Intelligence from a family of army officers. She checks out."

"Okay. I'll call you with an update after I get there and settle in."

"Anything you want me to tell the sheriff?"

"Tell him not to worry. I'm on my way." She flipped the cell phone off, merged onto Interstate 97, and headed south. Having to deal with small-town police made her sigh. They were usually more of a hindrance than a help, but they were necessary in handling the paperwork, a task she loathed.

Addy sat at the kitchen table, exhausted by the day's events. Several detectives, including Karen, had questioned her, and while she denied seeing or hearing anything, she felt guilty. Karen had eyed her suspiciously, seeming not to believe a word she said. So Addy declared her innocence more loudly and vehemently and became even more certain that Karen saw through her.

Having Karen in the room, witnessing her interview, comforted yet unsettled her. The heat of Karen's stare burned a hole through her heart, and she wished she could confess everything to her. But what would they do to Tommy? He couldn't survive confinement, but, if he had done this, could he do it again? Could she be certain he was responsible? Why had she ever left Maryland in the first place? Tommy was as much her responsibility as her grandmother's, perhaps more so. She had failed him, but she would make up for it now. She would fight for him like a mother defending her young.

The police also questioned Fern and Chauncey, separately, so Addy didn't know the outcome. Shortly afterward, Chauncey had left, appearing shaken by the encounter. Hopefully she wouldn't lose them as renters. A murder on her property would definitely dampen any prospect of future tenants. The police were familiar with Tommy's strange behavior. Some knew him, and Karen had filled in the others. So when someone suggested that they question him, Addy held her breath. Fortunately Karen had dissuaded them from wasting their time.

Despite her fatigue, she rose and walked into the backyard.

Seeing a light up in the tree, she climbed the ladder and knocked.

"You're still up?" she asked Tommy.

"It was fun seeing all the police. Are they coming back tomorrow?"

"I don't know, maybe." She tried to catch any sign of guilt in him. Did he feel remorse? Was he capable of such complex emotions?

"Tommy, I need to talk to you about the man you were burying last night."

"Okay. I'm sorry if I didn't do a good job. Were the police mad?"

Addy's chest constricted painfully, and her throat was so tight she could barely speak. She struggled to phrase her questions so she could elicit coherent comments from him without alarming him.

"The police are sad because the man is dead. Do you understand, Tommy? It's like when Grandma died. It made you sad, right?"

Tommy vigorously nodded.

"Well, they only want to know what happened. How he died.

They want to understand so they can stop it from happening to someone else."

She searched his face, seeking comprehension. When he sat quietly, waiting for her to continue, she decided to plunge in.

"Tommy, do you know how the man died?"

Tommy's face scrunched up in concentration, but after a few moments, he shook his head. Addy sighed and tried another tack.

Tommy spent entire days staring out at the inlet and the sh.o.r.eline around it. Surely he'd seen something. He'd made a strange comment last night, but she couldn't recall what it was.

"Tommy, everyone thinks you stay up here in your tree and never come down. I did too. But last night you came down. Do you do that all the time?"

"Sometimes. It's safe at night and n.o.body makes fun of me."

He hesitated, looking sheepish. "Are you mad at me, Addy?"

Addy could barely control her tears. Not knowing why she even bothered to keep them hidden, she threw her arms around Tommy's neck and let them flow freely.

"No, Tommy, I'm not mad at you. I love you very much and never want to hurt you." She clung to him so long that he finally begged her to let him go. After tucking him in, she wearily climbed down the tree and went to her room. She didn't sleep, but paced most of the night. She needed to make a decision about her brother in the morning and prayed it would be the right one.

Karen sat at the bar in the Happy Harbor, nursing a cup of coffee as Dee-Dee worked. It was late, and the knot in her gut told her something wasn't right. It was Addy. Finding a dead body on her property had clearly upset her, and the officers who questioned her probably hadn't helped.

But she suspected something more in Addy's distress. Her cop's instincts had flickered on, as they did when she approached the scene of a crime, and her senses were on high alert. Addy had reacted oddly to the murder, not like a normal person would.

She had been defensive. Karen had known Addy all her life and sensed immediately that she wasn't being forthcoming.

She swiveled on her bar stool when the door opened and a strikingly handsome woman entered the bar. She had to be a stranger, probably a tourist, because Karen would have definitely noted the compet.i.tion. Dee-Dee's attention had also been drawn to the door, and she went through her pre-mating ritual-a toss of her color-streaked hair, a slow, easy grin, and a bit of swagger as she crossed to the other side of the bar.

"Well, hey there, handsome," Dee-Dee drawled. "What's your pleasure?"

"Fresh-squeezed carrot juice, if you have it." The newcomer sat next to Karen at the bar.

"Huh?" Dee-Dee asked.

"Bottled water." The woman's gaze met Karen's. "Good evening, Deputy."

"Evenin'," Karen responded. "New in town?"

"Yes, just got in." She opened the bottled water and took a long swallow. Returning it to the counter, she waved her hand back and forth in front of her face. "Uh, aren't there any no-smoking bans in Maryland?"

"Only in the restaurant in back. The bars are still considered smoking areas." Dee-Dee quickly stashed her pack of Kools under the bar.

"Maybe you can help me, Deputy. I may be spending some time in Deale and I need a place to stay. I've checked in to a hotel outside of town, but I'd like something closer. Any ideas?"

Dee-Dee jumped in. "My friend, Addy Cooper, has a huge house on the water. It's got a boat dock and several acres of wooded land, very private and quiet."

Karen tried to signal Dee-Dee to stop, but she was too intent on serving up her b.r.e.a.s.t.s on the counter in front of the stranger.

Her strategically opened blouse exposed more than it covered, and the stranger gazed hungrily at the display.

"Addy Cooper?" she asked. "The place sounds perfect. If you wouldn't mind giving me directions, I'll call on her in the morning."

Karen scowled at Dee-Dee, who raised a questioning eyebrow. If Dee-Dee wanted to pounce on any creature that happened into her bar, that was up to her. But pointing the woman in Addy's direction, particularly now that she was back in town and single, might throw a monkey wrench into Karen's plans at reconciliation.

"I'd be happy to take you there myself in the morning, if you like," Dee-Dee offered. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rolled dangerously close to knocking the bottled water over. "Addy's my best friend."

"Well, I wouldn't want to put you out." The stranger's gaze became a stare.

"Oh, I don't mind putting out-I mean being put out," Dee-Dee said, and giggled girlishly.

Karen thought she would puke. She would have to keep an eye on this stranger. She didn't like the way the woman glibly chatted with Dee-Dee, her eyes rarely leaving the bartender's chest. Granted, Dee-Dee had a nice pair, but this stranger had a confidence and wolfishness about her Karen didn't appreciate.

She was c.o.c.ky, and Karen wanted her to know who the local stud was.

"So, you didn't say what your business was in town." Karen was glad to interrupt the love fest going on in front of her.

The woman stopped laughing and glared at her. "No, I didn't." She returned to her conversation with Dee-Dee, who handed her another bottle of water, on the house.

That did it. Karen definitely didn't like the stranger. Who cared that she was good-looking and dressed in jeans that hugged her like a woman. She could have Dee-Dee if she wanted, but she better d.a.m.n well stay away from Addy.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Karen dragged herself into the station the next morning, still bleary-eyed from one too many after she got home from the Happy Harbor. That, and a restless night dreaming of Addy, left her tired and grumpy. She poured herself the dregs of coffee still left from the night shift and plopped down at her desk.

Just before she finished her morning ritual and started on patrol, the chief called her into his office, which was never a good sign, so she entered warily. She froze, then recoiled. The stranger from the bar was sitting in front of the chief's desk.

"Officer Kaczarowski, meet Special Agent Liberty McDonald. Agent, this is your InfraGard a.s.sociate."

Karen tried to appear as blase as possible, but the agent with the smart-a.s.s grin had to know she'd surprised her. The well-known environmental activist had once spent nearly a year living in a huge redwood tree that a logging company wanted to chainsaw to death. She was a leader in the fight to save old-growth forests and had won despite corporate greed.

"Agent." Karen nodded, but didn't offer her hand.

"Officer Kaz, Kazro, uh, a pleasure to see you, again."