The Watched (CSI Reilly Steel #4) Read online

  He set the box at one end of the boat where he could easily tip it before sending the boat on its maiden voyage. His trip back to the car confirmed that he was indeed alone, and his anxiety was quickly replaced by excitement. One of the reasons he’d chosen this particular spot was that most of the boats weren’t worth stealing, which meant his wasn’t out of place and security would be light.

  Cattle prod in hand, he opened his trunk. His captor blinked blearily, but didn’t seem to be enough in control of himself to fight or run. Still, the Maestro was cautious as he pulled the man from the trunk. With one hand, he dragged his prisoner down the dock, the other hand still gripping the end of the prod, poised to strike if necessary.

  ‘Congratulations,’ the Maestro said as he shoved the man onto the boat. ‘You’re going to be a star.’

  It wasn’t until nearly three-thirty in the early hours that Todd had dropped onto the couch and fallen into a deep but restless slumber. Then he’d woken at five and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep.

  Now, he let the warm water wash away the sweat and grime of the day before and tried to gather his thoughts. When he climbed out of the shower nearly thirty minutes later, he felt a bit better, though still tired. It didn’t matter. He’d pretty much counted on being tired until Holly’s murderer was found. Wrapping a towel around his waist he went through to the small kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

  He’d just finished getting dressed and was reaching for the coffee when his phone rang. He grabbed for it, his mood instantly darkening. Early-morning calls were never a good thing, especially not for CSI. They almost always meant a body.

  Another one, was it even possible? This guy was relentless, fearless even.

  What was he trying to prove?

  ‘Todd?’ Mark Reed’s voice sounded strange.

  ‘Another movie one?’ Todd decided to beat him to the punch. He poured the aromatic liquid into his ‘My Other Car Is A Time Machine’ mug.

  ‘I’m afraid so.’ The detective cleared his throat, but there was something in his voice that put Todd on high alert.

  ‘Mark?’ He felt his stomach suddenly turn to ice. Something wasn’t right. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Some fishermen this morning found a boat . . . and a body.’

  ‘And?’ Todd knew there was more, something the detective was finding hard to say. After everything they’d seen, Mark wouldn’t be acting so weird if it was just another body.

  And what scene was being re-enacted this time? A boat . . .

  ‘The body they found . . .’ Mark’s next words were so soft that Todd almost missed them. ‘What?’ Todd shook his head, forgetting that Detective Reed couldn’t see him. ‘No . . . You’re mistaken.’

  ‘We found his badge and ID on the body,’ the detective said, his voice somber. ‘But we need an official identification from a third party not directly involved with—’

  ‘Where is he?’ Todd interjected woodenly, his throat working as the words echoed in his head, their meaning lost.

  ‘Dr Kase has him now,’ Reed said, sighing and sounding old. ‘I’m so sorry, Todd. He was a good guy.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Todd’s reply was automatic. His mind was still reeling, arguing that it couldn’t be true. It was so surreal it felt like something from out of a . . . He stopped the thought before it could get any further.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’re going to get this fucker,’ the detective said, before he hung up.

  Todd stood in the center of his kitchen, mug in hand, dressed in his usual slacks and white button-up shirt, for several minutes. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, did absolutely nothing to indicate the depth of the turmoil raging inside him.

  ‘Fuck!’ he screamed, throwing his mug at the wall. It shattered, coffee spraying everywhere. He slammed his hands against the counter, his next scream one of inarticulate rage. He turned, needing to do something, to destroy something, needing some outlet or else he’d explode. He swung at the wall, fist crunching through drywall.

  The pain bloomed bright and hot, cutting through his anger. Todd sank to the floor, his bloody hand resting on the towel. Then he buried his head in his hands, lost.

  CHAPTER 30

  Her feet were rooted to the spot and nothing she could do could get them to move. She wanted to run, to stop them, but she was helpless to do anything other than watch as she saw the crimson bloodstain pool onto the floor. She opened her mouth to scream, to call for help, but she couldn’t make a sound . . .

  The last person Reilly had expected to be calling her at quarter after six in the morning was Todd.

  This wasn’t going to be good. As soon as he said her name, she knew it would be beyond not good, but whatever this was, it was worse.

  She sat up, reaching for the lamp as dread filled her, displacing her usual confusion after a nightmare.

  ‘The killer . . .’ Todd’s words were halting, punctuated with what sounded like sobs. ‘He . . . last night – this morning – he . . .’

  ‘Todd, you’re scaring me. What happened?’ Reilly reached for her robe, a sudden chill coming over her. She had the sudden urge to tell him that she wanted to take back her question.

  ‘It’s Bradley.’ Todd’s voice cracked on his friend’s name, and she instantly knew what he was going to say next. Even as she was shaking her head, trying to deny it, he confirmed her fears. ‘Some fishermen found his body this morning.’

  ‘Oh my God, Todd, I’m so, so sorry.’ Reilly felt her own tears slip down her cheeks. She hadn’t known Bradley well at all, but she knew how close he and Todd were.

  Bradley had been more than a partner. He’d been Todd’s friend and mentor. He was to Todd what Daniel was to her and she could only imagine too well how her friend was feeling.

  ‘Detective Reed called me,’ Todd said, his voice still shaky. ‘He needs me to officially ID the body.’

  The unspoken request was there, hanging between them. What Todd was being asked to do . . . no one should have to do alone. Reilly knew that all too well.

  ‘Do you want to pick me up or will I meet you there?’ She wiped her hand across her cheeks. She needed to be strong for Todd.

  ‘I’ll come and get you but I don’t want to see . . . anyone else,’ Todd said, meaning Daniel.

  Reilly understood. ‘I’ll be waiting on the porch. Just pull into the driveway and I’ll be ready.’

  She crossed to the closet and started flipping through clothes. She’d showered when she’d gotten back to the house last night, but she needed a little bit of time to process what had happened before she could be of any help to Todd. It would be a good twenty minutes before he made it over from his place anyway.

  When she emerged from her room fifteen minutes later, her hair was still wet and her eyes were red, but she was composed.

  Daniel looked up in surprise from where he sat with the morning paper and a cup of coffee. Reilly sighed. Of course. He had always been a morning person and she should have known better than to think she could sneak out before he rose.

  He was about to offer her a cup but one look at her face and his expression grew grave.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  She reached for the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. ‘Todd is going to be here in a few minutes. I need to go with him down to the city morgue.’

  ‘Another one? For Chrissakes.’ Daniel slurped down his coffee. ‘Give me a couple of minutes to freshen up.’

  She dumped more sugar than usual into her drink. She needed the boost. ‘If you don’t mind, Daniel, I think he’d rather keep this one private. He needs to ID a body. Bradley Ford is dead.’

  As she climbed into Todd’s car, she couldn’t help but notice that he seemed to have aged ten years since she’d last seen him. She didn’t try to offer any condolences or ask how he was. Those were stupid questions; of course he wasn’t OK. Instead, she just gave him a half-smile and squeezed his hand.

  At times like this, human contact was about the only comforting th
ing.

  They rode in silence, looking out the window but not seeing the lingering colors of sunrise, the early-morning commuters. Her mind was elsewhere, back in the past, remembering things that she’d rather forget.

  The sharp, antiseptic smell that couldn’t quite cover up the odor of death.

  The police officer who walked at her side, asked where her father was.

  The cold grays and whites that seemed to personify the morgue.

  Reilly shook her head as Todd pulled into the parking lot. It had taken her years to free herself from those memories. Now they only came in times of stress. Well, if anything counted as stressful, it was this case. The return of her nightmares proved that.

  ‘Before we go in there . . .’ Todd broke the silence. He stared straight ahead as he spoke. ‘I just want to thank you for coming with me.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Reilly put her hand on Todd’s arm. ‘This isn’t the type of thing you want to go through alone.’

  The somber expression on Dr Kase’s face when she and Todd entered the mortuary said far more than just the death of a colleague. Reilly’s stomach churned. This was going to be bad.

  A figure covered with a white sheet lay on a stainless steel table in the center of the room. Reilly wanted to look away from it, to not think about what was under that sheet, but her eyes kept being drawn back.

  ‘Are you sure you want to be the one to do this?’ Dr Kase asked. ‘His sister said she would come down tomorrow. It’s just a formality for the records.’

  ‘Better me than someone in his family.’ Todd set his jaw, a determined light in his eyes. ‘I’m not going to make them look at something I can’t face.’

  Dr Kase nodded. He crossed to the table. ‘I have to warn you though, it’s bad.’

  ‘How . . .?’ Todd stopped, and cleared his throat, as if summoning himself to hear the worst. ‘Do you have a cause of death?’

  ‘I haven’t started the . . . examination yet,’ Dr Kase said, picking his words carefully.

  He picked up the sheet but didn’t yet fold it down. ‘But based on the surrounding environment, I’m fairly confident that death was caused by anaphylactic shock brought on by numerous stings.’

  Reilly frowned.

  ‘Stings?’ Todd asked. ‘What surrounding environment? I was told he was found by some fishermen. I assumed he was in the water.’

  The doctor let the sheet flutter back down. ‘Detective Reed didn’t give you any details?’

  Todd shook his head. He hadn’t exactly been in a fit state to process anything.

  Kase took a moment before explaining, the muscles in his face working for control. ‘A few men decided to go fishing early this morning. Before their boat had gotten more than a few yards from the docks, they spotted a half-submerged speedboat. Inside was a body, a camera in a waterproof container and a tipped-over box. The body was covered with fire ants.’

  What little color had been left in Todd’s face slowly drained away and the coffee that Reilly had drunk roiled in her stomach. She was now certain that she didn’t want to see what was beneath that sheet.

  ‘Show me.’ Todd’s words came out sharp, but neither Reilly nor the doctor commented or tried to stop him. She didn’t think she could say anything at all.

  Dr Kase nodded and pulled back the top of the sheet.

  Reilly didn’t want to look, but part of her refused to let Todd be the only one to bear the burden. Bile rose in her throat at the sight of the once handsome features now swollen and distorted, but she wouldn’t let herself turn away.

  ‘It’s Bradley Ford.’ Todd’s voice was flat, his face tight and pinched as he delivered the formal confirmation of what they already knew.

  Reilly held in her sigh of relief when the doctor covered the face once more.

  ‘Who’d they call to the scene?’ Todd asked. ‘From CSI. Please don’t tell me it was Emilie.’ Reilly didn’t quite understand what he was getting at here, though she did agree that the younger technician shouldn’t have had to deal with something like this on her own.

  ‘Todd, they’re not going to let your team investigate this.’ The doctor’s voice was strangely gentle. ‘This thing has gone too far; the FBI’s going to take over now.’

  ‘Like hell they will.’ Todd’s mouth flattened into a line, and Reilly automatically put a hand on his arm. ‘I’m going to find this bastard.’

  Dr Kase sighed as if he’d expected this response, but didn’t press the issue. ‘I am sorry about Bradley, Todd. He was a good man.’

  ‘Yes,’ Todd said. ‘He was.’ He looked at Reilly, his expression stony. ‘I’ve got some calls to make, stop this thing from slipping out of our hands. And there’s one I need you to make.’

  ‘Me?’ Reilly was taken aback. What could she possibly do to affect investigative jurisdiction?

  ‘I need you to convince my dad to call in a few favors to keep us on this case.’ The bitterness in his words told just how much they cost Todd to say. Reilly could see that he didn’t want to ask for her – or his father’s – help, but finding the killer was superseding his desire to do this on his own. He didn’t have the connections that Daniel did, nor the clout to ask for special treatment. ‘I’m not giving this to the Feds.’

  CHAPTER 31

  The Maestro applauded as he entered the storage unit, the sound echoing off of the metal walls and creating a cacophony of admiration. The noise startled a cry out of Drew Sheldon as the writer jerked upright. He was fairly sure that Sheldon had just pissed his pants. Not that it mattered. He didn’t need clean pants to keep writing.

  ‘Well done, Drew, well done indeed.’ The Maestro clapped Sheldon on the shoulder and chuckled when the writer flinched. ‘Your first scene went over beautifully. Using the water to drown the ants was genius. After all, wouldn’t want the little bastards running away, now, would we?’

  He crossed to the chair and sat down. Excitement coursed through him. He was – he searched for a word – giddy, so much so that he barely noticed how badly the place smelled. Maybe he should bring some air freshener the next time. ‘Now, how much work have you gotten done today?’

  Based on the flash of fear in Sheldon’s eyes and the slack jaw, he guessed the answer. He scowled, his previous happiness evaporating as his temper flared. Why did no one appreciate his vision?

  ‘Apparently, I wasn’t clear, so let me rectify that.’ He leaned forward and was pleased to see Sheldon jump back. ‘I’m not looking for a single scene. I want a full script. Beginning to end, filled with provocatively horrific death scenes. You’re not done until I have my screenplay. And if I don’t like it . . . well, you just may find yourself starring alongside your daughter in one of the scenes you wrote.’

  Sheldon’s face drained of color.

  ‘Now, before you start, I have something else I need some assistance with.’ He sat in his chair and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. ‘I’ve been writing letters, short snippets really. Because this was my first foray into original work, I need this letter to be perfect. A clear thesis and statement of intent.’

  Sheldon uttered a long string of profanities that involved committing several acts that were illegal in most states.

  ‘Charming.’ The Maestro rolled his eyes. ‘Now shut your mouth and listen. I’m going to want an honest opinion.’

  He smoothed out the paper and read: ‘Many of you will have heard about my latest project and perhaps you suspect I have borrowed this idea from another film, but I did not. This fine piece of work is original, as will be the rest of the work I share with you from here on out. I will try my best to continue to produce artistic and merited work worthy of a receptive audience.’ He looked expectantly at Sheldon. ‘What do you think?’

  Sheldon crossed his arms defiantly.

  The Maestro sighed and nodded. ‘I suppose you’re right. It needs more work. Thanks for the feedback.’ He stood up, grinning in anticipation. ‘You get started on the next few scenes and I’ll work on anot
her draft of my letter. I’ll be back later on to discuss casting and locations.’ He stuck his hands in his pockets, whistling as he stepped out into the warm, muggy air.

  Things were certainly looking up.

  Reilly wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to handle this. Todd had called Emilie and Peni into the lab to tell them about Bradley’s death.

  Now the two women were sitting at their usual seats and Todd had pulled his chair over to them, leaving Reilly on the outside. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do while the others talked and offered each other comfort.

  She wasn’t part of the team and hadn’t really known Bradley well enough to join them and it felt awkward – not to mention an invasion of privacy – to watch.

  Finally, she decided to see what information she could gather to add to what they already knew. Since she was the least emotionally involved, there was one thing she shouldn’t have anyone else doing. She just didn’t want to do it either.

  Steeling herself, Reilly stood up and went over to the nearest laptop. She knew of at least one movie with death by fire ants, but wasn’t sure if that was going to be right. After all, the movie had been set in a jungle, not a boat off the coast of Florida.

  Still, it was better than nothing.

  ‘So what do we do now?’ Emilie sniffed, the poor girl sounding distraught. ‘If we’re not going to be allowed to work on the case.’

  ‘Until I hear otherwise, it’s still ours,’ Reilly heard Todd say firmly.

  Daniel had said he’d do what he could to try and keep the investigation within the local jurisdiction but couldn’t make any promises. Reilly had passed the information along to Todd and his response had been the one he’d just given to Emilie. Until the Feds arrived to take over, the Tampa CSI team was still involved.

  ‘But we don’t have anything to review.’ Emilie took a shuddering breath as she gathered herself.