Page 19 of Dark Angel
“We’ve dated a few times.” Styles drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t have anyone special in my life. I figured getting close to someone in a small town can only cause trouble, but I’m only human and, living on my lonesome in that old building for years, sometimes I do need companionship. I’ve dated a few of the women in town.” He gave her a long look. “Is that going to be a problem or do you figure FBI agents should distance themselves from the locals?”
Not quite sure where this conversation was going, Beth thought for a beat and stared at the lemon wedge bobbing about in her glass. She needed to get along with Styles but didn’t intend on being joined to him at the hip or forming any type of romantic attachment. She had to admit he was a good-looking man who could take care of himself and that was something she admired, but having someone in law enforcement in her life would cause a problem. Sooner or later, someone with Styles’ investigative ability would discover her secret. She’d had casual dates with people outside of the FBI. It gave her something to talk about with the others when they asked about her personal life. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter where she worked or who she pretended to be at any time, people always wanted to know personal details. Accepting the odd dinner invitation, however much she disliked socializing, made her appear perfectly normal to the inquisitive mind of a colleague. Dating was one of the many parts she played in her life.
She raised her gaze to Styles to find him staring at her intently. Not wanting to be abrupt or rude to him, she cleared her throat feigning confusion. “I’ve only been here a few days, Dax. I’m finding my feet just now. I’ve never lived in a small town before, so I guess the rules are different here. My problem is, if I look like I’m competition to the locals you’re involved with, it might cause friction, but I don’t expect you to change your habits just because I’m here. Perhaps if you make it clear that I’m your partner at work, it might prevent a misunderstanding.” She smiled at him. “I’m basically a loner. I do date but not frequently. You’ll find I often take off on my own for days between cases to clear my head. This is a beautiful area and I plan to explore it in my downtime. Not in that wreck you call a truck they supplied for me. I’ve already ordered something more suitable and hope it will be delivered soon.”
“That’s good.” His smile lit up the room. “I was planning on asking you to come along with the boys and me when we go on our next fishing trip. There’s just one thing I want you to remember when you go on your explorations. The wildlife in this area is exceptionally dangerous. I suggest you go from motel to motel if you want to see the sights. I don’t want to find you torn up by a grizzly way up there in the mountains.”
After waiting for Josie to put their meals on the table and leave, Beth picked up a fry and nibbled on it as if contemplating his words. “No, I wouldn’t go hiking alone, but I do plan to visit some of the towns in this area. When I researched Rattlesnake Creek, I discovered many of the outlying areas have craft shops, pottery, leatherwear, and handmade jewelry from the gems found in the mines. I need to make my apartment a home, so gathering a few personal items is on my list.”
As they finished their meal, Styles’ phone buzzed. Beth stared at him as he frowned at the caller ID and then looked up at her.
“It’s the San Francisco office.” He handed her one of his earbuds. “Use this. I can’t put the phone on speaker in a public place. “Agent Styles.”
“This is Agent Dominic Lowe from the San Francisco office. We believe that one of your current investigations includes the Pied Piper cases?”
“Yeah, that’s us. Do you have any information?” Styles took out his notebook and pen and, using one hand, opened it to a clean page.
“Four days ago we fished a young woman out of the bay We figured she was a sex worker, and after subsequent investigation discovered she worked for a pimp along with another six girls in his stable.”Lowe sounded disinterested and bored with the conversation.“No one claimed her body, so we ran a DNA test on her and discovered that she is one of the missing girls from the list we assume was abducted by the Pied Piper. The case went cold, but I believe you have all the case files on the cold cases that we’ve attributed to the Pied Piper over the years. This girl is a Montanan, Scarlett Chester. From the autopsy reports, she was high when she drowned.”He sighed.“We haven’t notified next of kin or taken the investigation any further. We figured you’d wanna take the lead in this case from the get-go.”
Beth nodded emphatically and stared at Styles. Two girls from past crimes suddenly popping up in different parts of the country was too intriguing to let go. There had to be a link between the Pied Piper and whoever was holding this girl. She had no doubt in her mind Scarlett Chester had been sold into slavery.
“Yeah, we would.” Styles checked his watch. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. It’s around a six-hour flight. Can you possibly arrange to have a vehicle waiting for us at the airport from about two in the afternoon?”
“Yeah, not a problem, and there is a hotel just across the road if you’re planning on staying for a couple of days.”Lowe had brightened considerably.“We’ll see you tomorrow.”He disconnected.
Beth pulled out the earbud and handed it back to Styles. “This case is starting to get crazy. How can the Pied Piper’s victims suddenly start showing up at the same time? San Francisco, how did Scarlett Chester end up there and working on the streets? It’s not something she would have done on her own. This is pointing to the Pied Piper, raping and murdering one girl and selling the other. It’s a lucrative market and would account for the fact the girls are appearing all over the country.”
“We’ve considered comfort zones.” Styles folded his notebook and pushed it into his pocket. “It seems to me the whole darn country is his comfort zone.” He pushed his feet. “We’ll need to make plans. I figure that Wolfe will want Scarlett Chester’s body in his morgue at Black Rock Falls. We’ll need paperwork to take the body.” He picked up his Stetson and pushed it onto his head.
Beth stood and pulled on her jacket. “You chase down the paperwork and I’ll contact Wolfe. I’ll get onto Ryder about doing a background check on the guy in the van, Ricky Tallis. I won’t have time.”
“Let’s go.” Styles led the way out of the door.
Hurrying after him, Beth tugged on his arm to slow him down. “What about Bear? You can’t leave him alone while we’re gone. Is there anyone who can take care of him for you?”
“He’ll be coming with us.” Styles glanced at her over one shoulder. “He likes to ride in the chopper. He has K-9 status, so can go everywhere we do.” He gave her a long look. “Unless you have a problem with that?”
Shaking her head, Beth pulled open the truck door. “Not at all. I like having him around.”
TWENTY
FRIDAY
San Francisco
After landing to refuel and grab something to eat, Beth sat opposite Styles in a typical airport diner. The chair was made of aluminum, as was the round table that wobbled when she placed her coffee on the top. Without saying a word, Styles took a coaster, folded it in half, and wedged it under the short leg. She took a packet of wipes out of her pocket and cleaned her hands, before tossing them to him. She indicated a cleaner, wiping down the tables with the same dirty rag. “I wouldn’t put anything on the table if I was you.”
“Thanks, the coffee looks like weak tea, but what can they do to ruin an egg salad sandwich?” He poured bottled water into a dish he’d brought with him for Bear and the dog lapped, splashing water all over the floor, and then lifted his head and looked longingly at Beth as if willing her to feed him.
Beth lifted her sandwich to her lips. “I guess I’m gonna find out.” She chewed and nodded. “It’s fresh at least.” She wanted to feed Bear. He looked so cute in his FBI coat and she tossed him the crusts of her sandwich.
“Please, don’t feed him at the table.” Styles looked at her. “He shouldn’t be accepting food from you at all.” He picked up the sandwich and sighed. “My wife used to make curried egg sandwiches and we’d eat them with tomato soup in winter. She made everything from scratch apart from the bread. My job was to keep the vegetable patch producing everything she needed.” Styles let out a long sigh. “Before you ask me, it lasted six months after I joined the FBI. She wanted me to take a desk job. In fact, she wanted to rule my life. If I came home five minutes late, she’d want to know where I’d been and what I’d been doing, how much money I’d spent. You know it’s impossible to work nine to five on the job. Most times I was given cases that took me out of town, and never being home caused a problem.”
Interested, Beth leaned forward. She’d read about this type of behavior and wondered if he’d been a victim in his marriage. “What kind of problems?”
“Demands mostly.” He sipped his coffee and grimaced and then put the cup down on the saucer. “One time she cut up my credit cards. Another time she cut all the legs off my pants to prevent me from going to work. I figured she was insecure and took some personal time to try and sort things through, but then it got to a point where she didn’t want me to leave the house. I explained I needed to work to earn a salary.” He stared into space for a beat and sighed. “When I finally persuaded her to allow me to go back to the office, she called me every half hour. She’d tell me she was watching me, and if I as much as spoke to another woman, she’d kill herself.”
Aghast, Beth washed her sandwich down with a mouthful of the disgusting coffee. “So, what did you do, divorce her?”
