Page 69 of Fatal Mistake
“You don’t want to have the team do it?” Tara asked.
Cal shook his head. “With Keeler going off his plan and targeting people connected to you, we don’t even know if he’s going to go through with these bombs, so I’d rather spend our resources that way.”
“Plus, even if he does,” Shane said, “he may not do so until the first of next month.”
“And,” Cal added, “by protecting these women, we’ll have foiled Keeler’s plans anyway.”
Kaci snapped a picture of the maps. “I’ll get my team doing a deep background check on any women associated with this address. Maybe we’ll luck up and see a connection between them and the other victims.”
“I can also use the information to flesh out Keeler’s profile,” Shane offered.
Cal nodded. “Thanks, everyone, for your hard work.”
“So maybe our idea to help Tara remember was a good one, then.” Shane grinned.
“Okay, fine.” Cal punched Shane in the arm. “I admit it. You guys occasionally have a good idea.”
They groaned in unison, and after they said good-bye to Tara, Cal walked them to the door. Exhausted, Tara remained seated.
He locked the dead bolt behind them and came to sit with her on the sofa.
“So what’s next?” she asked.
He grabbed his laptop from the table and set it on his knees. “I’m going to look up the contact information for the new owners of Keeler’s family farm and schedule that visit.”
“Right, the visit to the barn.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go, but I promise I’ll be with you.” He squeezed her hand.
She gazed into his eyes. “I appreciate you being here for me more than you can know.” She chewed on her lip for a moment to phrase her next words properly and not hurt him. “But I’m starting to depend on you, Cal, and that’s not a good thing for either one of us.”
Chapter 21
Morning came too soon for Tara, a thought that hadn’t entered her mind in months, what with the nightmares keeping her up at night. Last night hadn’t been any different. Oren had continued to plague her sleep, and she’d walked the floor most of the night, but she preferred that to stepping up to the barn she’d played in with Oren.
Everything looked the same, but it felt wrong. Very wrong. Ominous.
You’re imagining things. Looking for problems where they don’t exist.
Cal slid open the door, and Tara chalked up her unsettled feeling to the change in the exterior paint—formerly red, now a crisp white with black trim.
She peered into the haymow that was level with the ground, and the milking parlor sat below grade in a hill, like the barn at June’s farm. Sunlight flooded into the large space and dust particles danced in the rays. Three-by-five bales of hay were stacked to the ceiling against the back wall, but the rest of the space held only a thin layer of hay littered across the rough-hewn wood.
Tara stepped into the space, and the familiar odor of manure filtered up through the floor. Tara took the caustic scent in stride, but Cal grimaced and covered his nose.
“Does it always smell like this?” he asked.
“Actually, this isn’t so bad. It’s far worse in the winter months when the cows are inside.” She went to the back wall and inhaled the familiar scent of hay from her childhood. “The best time to visit is spring and fall right after the hay has been cut and baled. There’s this wonderful sweet smell that fills the haymow and the cows are only in the barn twice a day for milking, so it airs out.”
Cal’s forehead furrowed. “I’ve been in some foul-smelling places, but honestly, this is one of the most irritating smells I’ve encountered.”
“You get used to it.” She remembered growing up, how even though they’d removed their outerwear in the mudroom before entering the house, the odor had clung to them.
Cal turned in a circle, his gaze focused as usual. “Not many bales in here.”
“It’s the end of the season. I took a good look at the alfalfa fields on our way in. Looks like they’re right on schedule for making hay at the end of this month.”
“Making hay?” He tilted his head. “People really talk that way. It’s not just part of the old saying ‘make hay while the sun shines.’”
