Page 43 of Fatal Mistake
Maybe her tension now had to do with the fact that they’d finished eating and the team planned to review notes from the day. At least the ones she could be privy to.
And Cal had to begin the discussion with a particularly hard one for her. “Before we get started, I need to bring you up to speed with something Tara shared earlier today.”
Her gaze shot up to him, panic riding on the surface. “Is this about Oren asking me out?”
All heads snapped in her direction, and Cal would rather face down a marauding army than share the details, but he needed to keep the team apprised of all developments. “Do you want to tell it or should I?”
“You, please.” She jumped to her feet and began pacing in the attached dining area.
Cal forced himself to ignore her frantic steps. “Back in high school, Keeler asked Tara to go out with him, and it turns out he had a thing for her for years, but she didn’t return his affections.”
“How’s that related to the bombings?” Rick asked, his gaze fixed on her, but she seemed oblivious to him.
“When she ran into Keeler back in January,” Cal said. “He asked her out again.”
Tara spun, her hands clenched into tight fists. “And I not only said no, but when I did, he wouldn’t let it go. I got irritated at him and snapped, making a mess of the whole thing.”
“And soon after that, he set his first bomb.” Shane slid forward in his chair. “Likely the catalyst we’ve been looking for.”
“Exactly,” Cal said.
Tara’s shoulders curved forward as if trying to make herself disappear. “And it’s all my fault.”
“Please don’t take responsibility for Keeler’s actions,” Cal said, fully aware of the fact that he’d mentioned the same thing to her earlier.
Experience told him people had to hear this advice repeatedly to internalize it. He ought to know. So many people had lost their lives because of his failures at work. Sure, other people made on-the-job mistakes, but people died when he failed, and no matter his effort, no matter using the skills God had given him to the best of his ability, women were still dying, and he was to blame.
“How can I not feel responsible?” she asked. “Wouldn’t these women still be alive if I’d been gentler when I let Oren down?”
“Maybe or maybe not,” Shane said. “This path has already been set in Keeler’s life. Even if you hadn’t rejected him, something else would have set him off and made him act. We can’t control his actions. Only God can do that.”
But Cal knew more than any of the team members that God seemed to be silent when it came to Keeler.
“When you’ve had time to process this, you’ll see we’re right,” Shane added.
Tara looked away, smoothed her hair back, and used one of the rubber bands circling her wrist to put a ponytail in place. She remained frozen in time, gazing out the patio door while everyone sat watching.
Cal stared at the slender curve of her neck, the sight beckoning him to discover if her skin was as soft as it seemed. He sat on his hands, his knuckles stinging, the pain bringing his mind back to the task at hand. He needed to remember his commitment. Remain focused on the job. Forget all about any kind of relationship, catch more bad guys, and make them pay. And maybe, just maybe, if he put enough criminals behind bars, his work would make up for some of the recent tragedies.
“What about forensics at the cabin, Brynn?” Shane asked, employing his peacemaking and negotiation skills that he often used to move the team out of a tense situation. “Did you discover anything there?”
“Keeler’s fingerprints,” Brynn replied. “But that only proves that Keeler is—or was—here in Oregon.”
“How can you be sure they’re his prints?” Tara asked from where she stood in front of the door.
“We matched them to the ones on file from his military service.”
Tara turned, her expression blank. “If his motivations are related to me, why do you think he killed this woman? I didn’t really know her.”
Kaci sat forward to put her plate on the table. “My guess, and it’s only a guess mind you, is that he tracked you the same way I did. Then he talked to the woman and became worried that she’d ID him.”
“So it was senseless.” Tara shook her head. “Not that any killing makes sense, but this poor woman—all the women he’s killed—did nothing wrong.”
Shane looked at her with the same soothing expression he offered victims and hostages. “Remember we’re dealing with a psychopath, here. The murder may not make any sense to us, but it made perfect sense to Keeler.”
“A psychopath, really?” Tara shook her head. “I knew killing like this wasn’t normal behavior, but ‘psychopath’ sounds so evil.”
“He is evil!” The words flew out before Cal could temper them or his frustration with Keeler.
