Bloody Point (3 page)

He was focused on the road. “I got a call from Paul Loughlin,
the fire marshal,” he said. “That boat that burned the last time I came down?
It was arson.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He told me somebody tampered with the automatic bilge
switch and some hoses. The bilge filled up with water and when the switch
activated, its spark set off some propane which had settled in the bottom of
the boat.”

Cassie frowned. “So it was intentional.”

“Yes, and I just think it’s odd. That guy, Schneider, is
murdered in a marina. Then a boat is torched just a few miles away.”

“Does Laughlin think the guy who was cruising in the boat … what
was his name? Sinclair? … set fire to it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who was the previous owner?” Cassie asked. “Turn right at
the next exit, then take the second left,” she directed.

Jake swung his SUV onto the exit ramp. Rush hour traffic was
diminishing. The sun was low in the sky and humidity hung in the air in a haze.
“A guy who lives in D.C. Nothing special about him.”

The restaurant came in view. “Here it is, on the right.”

Jake swung the car into a parking space and shut down the
engine. Cassie pushed open her door, relieved to get out of the conversation.

“I’ll tell you more inside,” Jake said.

†

Bloody Point

Chapter 3

S
KIPPY’S Crab Shack was
dark and loud, and later Cassie wondered if she’d chosen the place to minimize
the opportunity for conversation. She made Jake try steamed crabs, ordering two
dozen. The waiter spread brown paper over their table, brought hammers and picks,
and dumped the freshly steamed crabs right in the middle. Then Cassie spent the
next ten minutes showing Jake how to crack and eat them.

“It’s a lot of work, but there is nothing else like it.”

“Except maybe lobster, only you get a lot more out of it,” he
teased.

“I dare you to match it with something from your Midwest.”

“What? Like prime beef, maybe? A Delmonico steak?”

She dismissed him with a snort. “The Bay’s seafood is the
greatest, and steamed crab is the best part of that. Now my dad, he loves oysters.
Right out of the shell. Raw.”

Jake rolled his eyes. The music began again, loud Jimmy
Buffett-style beach music, and they had to eat in silence. But she noticed Jake
watching everything going on in the joint, taking note of every person who
walked in, even scrutinizing the waiters and bus boys.

And that was the problem. When you worked for the FBI you
were always on duty. In a restaurant, you automatically sat with your back to
the wall. In a bank line, you scanned the other customers for suspicious behavior.
When you were working a corruption case, everyone you met was a potential
criminal.

You couldn’t let go, couldn’t relax, couldn’t let your guard
down because if you failed to pick up a clue on your watch, you’d never forgive
yourself.

A couple of times, Jake tried to resume the conversation
they’d begun in the car, but it was just too loud in the restaurant. So they
confined themselves to small talk and listening to the music. They finished
their meal and left. As they drove back to the marina, Jake kept the
conversation light, but Cassie could sense something was brewing.

The clouds were gathering in the western sky. It was after
nine o’clock and Cassie could see flashes of lightning in the distance. The
predicted thunderstorms were on their way. She wanted to air out the boat
before she had to batten the hatches again. It would be a long night on the
boat, hot and uncomfortable. If it rained she would have to close the ports and
the hatches. Inside, then, it would be stifling.

Arriving back at the marina, Jake parked and turned off the
engine and Cassie reached for the door handle, hoping to make a quick escape.
“Thanks for dinner, Jake.”

He touched her arm and said, “Cass, wait just a minute.”

A chill ran through her.

“Cass, I want my partner back. I want you to come and help me
with this case.”

Cassie looked at his face, at the intensity in his eyes and
the set of his jaw. She tried to picture herself going for it, strapping on the
gun, pocketing the credentials, hitting the streets. And she couldn’t do it,
couldn’t see it. “I can’t do it, Jake. I can’t see myself there.”

“C’mon, Cass. I need you.”

“No. I told you. I don’t want to be an agent. I’m through
with that.” Her heart was drumming. Her hands involuntarily clenched.

His voice was soft. “Maybe you could pray about it, okay?
Will you pray?”

She refused to look at him.

Jake shifted in his seat. The leather creaked. “Where do you
go to church out here, anyway?”

Defensiveness stiffened her spine. “I don’t go. Not now.”

“Why not? That was always a big thing with you and Mike,
wasn’t it?”

Cassie unbuckled her seatbelt. Jake put his hand on her arm
again and kept it there.

“I’m just not going, that’s all,” she said, jerking away.
“And why should you care anyway? You thought all that was hooey. So what’s the
big deal?”

“I find it strange, that’s all. Your faith was always so
important to you, so much a part of who you were.”

“Well I’m sorry if I’m not living up to your expectations in
that area, but I’m taking a break, okay? I’m just off-duty for a while. Is that
all right with you?” Cassie’s eyes blazed in the dim light of the parking lot.

Jake held up his hands. “Fine, fine with me. I was just
wondering.”

Cassie turned away, staring out of the passenger side window,
emotions she could not even name coursing through her in hot waves.

Jake sighed. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Y’know, Cass, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t bother.”

“I am going to bother. You’re my friend! And you’re making a
mistake.”

“I’m a grown woman! I don’t need anyone telling me what to do
with my life.”

“Don’t give me that nonsense!”

“I’m not going back to the Bureau.”

“Cassie.” He hesitated, reaching out to touch her hand, “I
think … well, I’m afraid for you. I think there’s something else going on here.
I think maybe … you’re running from something. The grief, maybe.”

“What?” she exploded. “How can you say that? How dare you say
that?”

He turned toward her. The lights in the parking lot lit the
side of his face. His dark eyes were soft but there was an intensity in his
expression that pierced her. “You are not grieving. You are cutting out
everything that reminds you of your old life with Mike. Everything. The Bureau.
Your apartment. Your faith. Responsibilities. Me. It’s like, that whole chapter
of your life is closed. Kaput. Game over.” He gestured toward the docks. “This
sailing stuff is nothing but an escape, an escape from pain, from life. Maybe
an escape from death. I don’t know. But it’s an escape. It’s not healthy. It’s
not good for you.”

Cassie suddenly felt hot all over. Her anger erupted in an
explosive burst of light and heat. She jumped out of the car and started
heading for the boat. He followed her, as she knew he would, catching up to her
at the edge of the gravel.

“Cass …” He touched her elbow.

She pushed his hand away. “Since when have you been appointed
as my shrink? Since when? What makes you think you could possibly know what’s
in my head?”

“Cassie, listen …”

“No! You listen to me, Jake. You might be able to work
informants, but you are not working me. This is the most self-serving … idiotic
… ridiculous way of getting me to work with you.”

“Self-serving? What are you talking about?”

Cassie’s adrenaline was pumping. “Your wife leaves you,
right? Now you need someone to share feelings with. To keep you organized. To
support your activities. And that’s me. That’s why you’re here. Because the
reality is, men don’t do very well by themselves. You need me. Or somebody. I’m
convenient. So you work up this cock-and-bull psychological stuff to make me
feel guilty, so I … ”

Even in the dark, she could see his anger. He’d been angry
before, plenty of times, but never with her. This was different, and Cassie
couldn’t face it. She turned and walked quickly back toward the boat.

“Cassie!” He grabbed her arm. She jerked away and walked
faster.

He yelled at her. “I swear, I am thinking of you, not me. I’m
worried about you! Honest!”

She was aware of him behind her. She stepped onto her boat
and began fiddling with the lock to the companionway. Her hands were shaking so
badly she couldn’t get the combination to work. The boat dipped under his
weight as he followed her. Suddenly she felt trapped, the locked companionway
in front of her, him behind. Her throat closed; she didn’t know if she could
breathe.

“Cassie, you are in denial. And one day you’re going to
crash. I don’t want to see that happen. And yes, I’d love to have you working
with me, but Cass … for crying out loud, would you look at me?”

She wouldn’t.

“Cassie, you are going to regret leaving the Bureau. Trust
me. You will. Come back now, before it’s too late. Please.”

A thousand arrows pierced her soul. “It’s too late, Jake
Tucker.” She spun around. “I turned in my creds.”

“You did what?” Jake hollered.

“I already quit. So it’s too late.”

Jake shook his head. He rubbed his hand through his hair,
incredulous.

“It was already too late the day Mike quit breathing,” Cassie
continued. “That was five months, two weeks, and one day ago. It was too late
then. It’s definitely too late now. Now leave me alone. Go bother someone
else.”

“Cass!”

“I said, leave!” Cassie shoved Jake hard. He grabbed a rail
to keep from falling overboard. “Just go away!” she screamed.

He took a deep breath. His voice was shaky with anger. “All
right.”

“And don’t come back. Ever. Do you hear me?”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I mean it. Find someone else. I don’t want to see you again.
Get out of my life!” Her head was swimming, her ears ringing. She wanted to
run, to fly, anything to get away from this suffocating feeling.

He was standing silently before her, frozen in place. A
rumble of thunder began in the west. She had to get him away from here. Now.
“Go away, Jake. I don’t care about the Bureau. I don’t care about you. Now go
away. I just want to be alone!”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Go. Before I call the police.”

“Yeah, all right,” he muttered, and he stepped off the boat.
He turned briefly on the dock, looked at her, but then he walked away, down the
dock, into the night. And her heart broke into a thousand pieces, like a fine
crystal goblet dropped carelessly on a stone floor.

• • •

For the first time, the tiny cabin felt like a box, a coffin,
and she couldn’t stay there. She went topside, stepped onto the dock, and
walked out to the farthest point from land. The wind had come up, and the
thunder rumbled more frequently now. She sat down at the end of the dock, her
back against a piling. The sky was black as was the water. All over the marina,
boats were bobbing, tugging hard at their lines. Halyards were clanging,
normally a pleasant sound, but tonight they grated on Cassie’s nerves.

Cassie hugged her knees to her chest. She hated herself,
hated the fight, hated the sight of Jake Tucker’s back as he walked away. She
hated the feelings that were swirling inside her, hated the tears that refused
to flow, and hated the thought of sleeping yet one more night without Mike.
Most of all, she hated the truth that kept rising like a serpent from the
tumultuous seas in her mind. The effort that it took to suppress it was
exhausting.

The lightning was drawing closer, bolts slashing through the
blackness of the night, disappearing, then slashing again like a warrior
attacking and withdrawing, then attacking again. Cassie focused on the display,
as if allowing herself to be mesmerized by the raw power would take her mind
off her own struggle. But in the back of her mind, she was listening to see if
she could hear his car start, imagining where he would be going, wondering what
he was thinking—her partner, her friend.

So when she heard footsteps approaching her heart jumped and
she leaped to her feet. When she turned, she saw Pat, the waitress from the
Blue Goose.

“Are you okay, honey?” she asked.

“Yes, fine. Why?”

“A bunch of us were cleaning up, and we saw you walk out
here. You shouldn’t be out here with this storm coming. It’s not safe.”

What was the alternative? The stifling atmosphere of the
boat? “I’m … I’m fine. I was just watching. The lightning is … magnificent.”

Pat shifted position, as if she were unsure what to say. “You
live on board one of these, don’t you?”

Cassie nodded.

A loud crack made them both jump. “Well, honey, you need to
get inside. These storms are nothing to fool with. I’ve got to get off this
dock.” Pat turned to leave. “Everybody else was afraid to come out here, but I
couldn’t go home without checking on you.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much. I’m fine.”

Pat shook her head. “Good night, then.”

“Bye.”

When Pat was gone, Cassie slumped to the dock again. She sat
there fingering her cross and staring into the darkness as the lightning grew
closer and closer, until at last the clouds burst open overhead. As Cassie sat
there letting the torrential rain pour over her, she wondered at the tears she
still could not shed.

† † †

The next day dawned hot and steamy, but the sky was blue and
cloudless and a soft mist rose from the water. Cassie was washing her breakfast
dishes and trying not to think about the night before when her cell phone rang.
She glanced at her watch. It was 8:37.

“Cassie?”

It was a man. She struggled to recognize his voice.

“This is Craig Campbell, at the Bureau.”

“Oh, yeah, Craig, hi.” Cassie pictured him in her mind. He
was an old friend of Mike’s, an agent who’d shown Mike the ropes in D.C. One
time he and Mike had pulled surveillance four nights in a row. Late into the
night, sitting in a car in a bad area of D.C., they’d begun to open up, to talk
about some pretty deep issues. That’s when Mike had shared his faith with
Craig. A month later, Craig became a believer. He’d transferred to Annapolis shortly
after that. Now he was working in Baltimore.

“What can I do for you?” Cassie asked.

“I’m looking for Jake. Have you seen him?”

“Last night. Why?”

Campbell sighed. “We have a big pow-wow up town with the
Assistant U.S. Attorney and a court date tomorrow. He and I were supposed to
meet for breakfast this morning. I’m getting no answer at his apartment or on
his cell. I paged him at 7:45 and he still hasn’t answered. So I’m just trying
to backtrack, and I thought he’d said he was going out to see you last night.”

“He did. We went to dinner. But he left around ten.” Cassie’s
jaw was tight. It wasn’t like Jake to miss a meeting. Or not answer a page.

“Hmmm. He wasn’t having car trouble or anything, was he? Did
he mention anything to you?”

“No. And any way, he’d call, Craig. I’m sure he’d call you if
something like that came up.”