Page 73 of Fatal Mistake
“And if we find them? How will that help?”
“We won’t know the answer to that until we look.” He tugged her to her feet and bent to put the items back in the envelope and pick up the journals. “Ready?”
She nodded, and he led the way to his car, where he put the envelope and journals in a large evidence bag and settled it in the backseat.
He pressed his finger against his chest, where the mic from his communication device rested. “We’re heading over to June’s farm. Rick, take the lead. Shane, the rear.”
It took only a few minutes to exit Oren’s former property and turn down June’s drive. Cal sent Agent Ingles inside to get the key for the hired hand’s house, and then continued down the drive to the tiny single-story house.
Cal eyed her. “We didn’t have a chance to check out this location today, so we’ll go straight inside.”
She nodded and got out. He escorted her to the front door, his gaze watchful and his head swiveling as he scoped out the area. He broke a seal on the door and unlocked it.
She stepped inside the familiar space, but a coldness seeped into her body rather than the warmth she’d known when she’d visited June’s longtime hired hand who’d managed the farm for so many years after Earl died. The door led straight into a spacious kitchen with ancient cupboards and an old turquoise refrigerator from the fifties. A bedroom was located on the right and a narrow doorway straight ahead led to the living room.
Cal gestured at the bedroom. “Keeler had this room set up as an office. Let’s start there.”
She entered the space painted a blindingly neon blue color.
Cal stepped to an open wall and ran his still-gloved fingers over it. “Lots of holes here.”
She joined him and shined her phone’s flashlight over the area. “The size is consistent with the holes in the pictures.” She continued down the wall. “Looks like he had bigger pictures here, too.”
“It could have been papers or other items.”
She looked up at him. “Items like what?”
“Souvenirs from the women.”
“That’s just sick.”
“Keeler is sick, Tara.”
“I know…I…even after everything I’ve seen and heard, I can’t seem to think of him that way.”
Cal gave her an incredulous look.
“You don’t get it. I know.” She sighed. “Did you have a close friend growing up?”
“I was kind of a loner.”
“Then imagine learning one of your Knight or SEAL teammates was behind this and doing sick, depraved things.”
“First, none of them would.”
“But see, that’s how I used to feel about Oren. You’ve always known him as a killer. I’ve known him as a friend and then a lost soul when he pulled away. Even as sick and twisted as he is, it’s not as easy as you might think to give that up.”
“Makes sense, I suppose.”
“But you can’t see it.”
“You’ve got a more innocent outlook on life than I do.” He gave her a sweet smile. “It’s one of the many things I like about you. I honestly wish I didn’t have to be the one to force you to accept reality.”
“You like many things about me, huh?” The question came out before she thought it through.
“You’re an incredible woman, Tara. Strong. Courageous. Tough yet soft and vulnerable. I like it all.” He peered into her eyes, and the intensity of his passion nearly had her stepping over to him and flinging her arms around his neck.
“We should finish up here,” she said instead, and moved on to another wall where one of Oren’s rudimentary paintings of a cow hung slightly askew.
