Desperate Measures (3 page)

“Goddammit, Caitlin! You couldn’t stay away from your precious company, even today? This has to do with that quack you insisted on hiring, Dr. Brad Tessell, right? Where’s the letter?”

“Right here, in my purse.” Caitlin crossed her arms across her chest. She had to regain some balance of control. With the answer given, she could read Scott’s mind and envisioned the investigative procedures she hadn’t only violated but trampled upon; fingerprints, tampering with evidence, transference, chain of custody. The note was not a big deal. It couldn’t be. She had to compose herself before she could continue. She wanted to curse for having to defend herself. She wanted to yell but didn’t. Breathe in, breathe out. Remain calm and professional. Finally she answered in one of her famous straightforward, no-nonsense answers. “I hired Brad Tessell because he’s a brilliant scientist.” She didn’t mince words nor elaborate on Brad’s history. She spoke the truth. Enough said.

Drew pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, and jotted three letters, “DNA”, in his notebook.

Inside the house a captivating view greeted them. The Caribbean glistened through the full-length living room window and the mountains showed from the dining room. Everything appeared to be in order. Nothing disturbed. No sign an intruder had ever been there. Caitlin wanted to run. She didn’t want to see the kitchen and ruin the image of her perfect house. Running away was not an option. Her body trembled but she knew she had to be strong and see the disturbance herself. Then maybe this nightmare of a day would end.

* * * *

Linda and the Martel children walked into the elegant and luxurious lobby of the Oceanside Royal Resort and Casino at the height of check-in time. Weary, impatient guests stood in line. Not Linda. She marched right behind the counter and obtained the room card.

The clerk smiled and then whispered, “Sure we can’t lure you back? Repeat visitors still ask about you.”

With pride Linda answered, “Thanks, but I made the right decision for me and more importantly for Isabel. Anyone who asks about me, send them my way.”

“Sure will.” The clerk turned his attention to the next person in line.

As a single mother of a six-year-old daughter, Isabel, Linda worked very hard and saved every dime of her salary and tips. Determination drove her to provide a good home and future for her child. Before long Linda had enough money saved to start a small café. Scared and timid at the prospect of venturing out on her own, she’d taken her time in finding the right location and ensured that her finances were indeed in order. Eventually, she’d mustered up the courage to make her dream come true.

Linda found the perfect spot, located in the heavily trafficked tourist section of downtown, for her small but friendly café simply named Linda’s. She kept the fare light and simple but the atmosphere friendly. Welcoming and inviting. As her number one priority she met and greeted each and every customer personally. Within a short period of time, Linda’s wariness and worries faded. She knew she’d made the right decision. Her outgoing and cheery personality, combined with her frugal and thorough management of personal finances, formed the foundation of the success and profit that Linda quickly experienced.

With a quick stop at the suite, they changed into bathing suits, applied sun block, and were off. The pool area was somewhat crowded and happy hour at the swim up bar had just started. Linda gripped Alexandra’s hand but didn’t see Chad. She wasn’t worried because she knew where to find him. She spotted him immediately, right where she’d suspected. She held Alexandra and slipped into the water of the sparkling pool. They ducked under the volleyball net. Linda stood behind Chad. Seated at the swim up bar, he placed his order.

Linda tapped him on the shoulder, spoke to the bartender and made a correction to Chad’s request. “That’ll be one strawberry smoothie and one glass of milk.” She turned her attention to Chad. “That was very thoughtful of you to order your sister a strawberry drink but milk is better for a two year-old.”

Chad grimaced. “Oh well, I thought she might like it. This is really cool to sit in the water and they bring you whatever you want.”

Linda held back a grin. “Here comes your drink, Mr. Smarty Pants.”

Caitlin couldn’t believe her eyes. She couldn’t speak or move. In a daze, she stared at the blood, mingled with mutton, which covered the kitchen floor. Drew and Scott stepped beside her, and the movement jolted her into reality.

“Oh my God!” Caitlin screamed. “Someone was murdered here! We could’ve walked into this with the children. What’s happening?”

Scott took her in his arms and held her in a tight reassuring embrace.

“As far as we can tell right now, it’s not a homicide scene,” Drew explained. “There’s no splatter, drag marks, or sign of a struggle. I believe this blood came from a contained vessel and was poured on the floor. We don’t have the sophisticated Crime Scene Investigation tools and techniques that Scott is accustomed to with the FBI. Hell, I don’t even have any crime scene tape. I sent a deputy to the hardware store to find some supplies to secure the house and keep the nosey nellies out of the way. Back to the blood, I sent a sample to the vet school for a preliminary analysis. They’re putting a rush on it and will call me shortly after determining if it’s human blood.”

Caitlin looked from the scene to Drew. He raked his hands through his hair and shifted from one foot to the other, clear indications of embarrassment. The St. Kitts Police Department had been caught off guard, not prepared for this crime.

After a few seconds of silence, Drew said, “Now I need you to look at the refrigerator.”

In a hesitant manner, Caitlin lifted her head and looked across the kitchen. A photo, secured with a magnet, captured her attention. She recognized the snapshot immediately, their best family portrait, taken on the day of Alexandra’s birth. It held special meaning. Now it was tainted. Compromised. Scary and evil. Who would do this?

In the original, used for Alexandra’s birth announcement, Caitlin sat on the living room couch with the sixteen-hour-old baby on her lap. Chad sat next to her and Scott stood behind hugging all of them. It was hard to believe she’d given birth only hours earlier. Her face glowed with happiness. Not in this picture. A red X obliterated her face and ‘
No DNA’
had been written across her chest.

“Let’s get out of here and talk before I take you to the hotel. Linda knows it may turn into a long night. We might as well grab some dinner. You can imagine I have a lot of questions for you, Caitlin,” Drew stated.

Caitlin swallowed the lump lodged in her throat. “Yes, I know.” Before walking out the front door, she glanced over her shoulder at the picture. The events of the morning were about her family and the past, not CSM and Dr. Tessell. But why? Why now?

* * * *

Drew drove down the mountain as the sun descended into the sea, such a beautiful sight with the lights from the mountain in the backdrop. Like Caitlin and Scott, Drew fell in love with St. Kitts the first time he and his wife vacationed here thirty years ago. From then on he knew one day he’d retire and live on the island. Previously he’d been a Captain with the Baltimore Police Department. Ten years ago, after his wife died in a tragic car accident, Drew decided to retire early. His only daughter had been married for two years and planned to start a family of her own.

At first, Drew loved the relaxed laid back life of a retiree on a Caribbean Island but quickly became bored with the slow pace. When the attending St. Kitts Chief of Police decided to move to the United States, Drew jumped at the chance for the job. He guessed with the unstrained atmosphere of the island, not to mention the low crime rate, five hours a day equated to three hours over-time. Nonetheless it gave him something to do and occupy his time. Tonight, an exception to the normal routines, didn’t represent an average day, not even close. By the island working man’s time clock, Drew had already put in triple overtime and the sun hadn’t fully set.

Drew looked in the rearview mirror at Caitlin. The shock must’ve worn off a bit. Thankfully some color had returned to her cheeks. When she first saw that picture, all color had drained from her face.

Drew selected a secluded outdoor table on the beach near the Lobster Shack and then said, “This table will do, I’ll get us drinks from Mel before we order dinner.”

Drew specifically chose this establishment. Caitlin and Scott always enjoyed dining here. The food was delicious and the atmosphere relaxing. Not tonight. Drew could tell by the gloomy looks on their faces that the aroma of sizzling seafood didn’t improve Caitlin’s or Scott’s spirits. He sympathized with them. Questions and unknown answers weighed heavily on their minds.

“How’re they doing, Mon?” Mel, the owner of the Lobster Shack, asked Drew. “I heard what happened today and saw you guys drive in. I wanted to let them get settled before I came over to say hi.”

“They’re as well as can be expected at this point. Let me have three Carib beers and then we’ll order dinner,” Drew responded.

“Sure thing, just give me the signal. I’ve got plenty of fresh caught lobsters tonight. Hang in there, Mon.” Mel turned to assist his chef who struggled to keep up with the entrée orders. Flames burst from the grill and seared flanks of fresh caught Mahi-Mahi and Jumbo Shrimp.

Drew returned to the table where he’d left Caitlin and Scott, handed out the beers, and got down to business. “Caitlin, you need to start at the beginning, first tell me about this Dr. Tessell.”

“He’s an asshole! Caitlin’s being the good Samaritan again, giving the underdog a chance, putting too much trust in people,” Scott answered the Police Chief and directed his next statement to his wife. “Didn’t you learn enough after your credibility and career were almost destroyed by those Sons of Bitches at the lab? Couldn’t you have left things the way you and Steve structured the business? Him, VP of Research and Development and you controlled Business Development and Administration,” Scott yelled as he looked at Caitlin.

“So it’s my fault again, right? I try to do the right thing, and now you’ve basically accused me of putting us all in jeopardy because I hired a questionable, albeit world renowned, research scientist. Well go to hell, Scott! Did you see the kitchen and the picture? At this point, I’m not so sure this has anything to do with my company but with me personally. The messages could be warning me not to take a DNA test.”

Scott’s eyes grew wide when he realized her implication. “Oh shit! Caitlin, I thought all of that was long forgotten, after the ruckus you caused when you first found out.”

“‘Oh shit’ is right and so did I until today.” Caitlin shot an uneasy look at Drew then her husband. The conversation halted abruptly when a waitress approached the table.

“Mel sent these over, he thought you could use them,” the waitress said, setting a bucket of Caribs down on the table.

“You got that right,” Drew responded as he uncapped three chilled beers, waited for the woman to retreat, and then firmly said to the arguing couple, “Would you mind telling me what the hell you two are talking about? Caitlin, you better start at the beginning and fill me in pretty damn quick. I know you sent out hundreds of that picture, identical to the one we just found, with Alexandra’s birth announcement. This one appears to have been scanned, but the sender had to have access to one of the originals.”

“Caitlin will give you the lowdown on her family, and what she found out sixteen years ago. I need to call Tomas and see how he’s doing with wrapping up our last case,” Scott declared.

Drew knew Tomas, one of Scott’s top agents, from his previous life in law enforcement. He nodded to Scott and then turned his attention to Caitlin.

“You can’t fool me, Scott,” Caitlin retorted. “I know you completely finalized that case before you left. The last flight from Miami landed two hours ago. I assume Tomas will be arriving on the first plane tomorrow.”

“Yeah, probably. Fill Drew in while I’m gone.” Scott left the table and walked to the water’s edge where he could speak privately on his cell-phone.

Drew sipped his beer and glanced at Caitlin. Despite the severity of this situation, he had to suppress a chuckle. He’d been a witness to the arguments and banter between Caitlin and Scott on many occasions. He called them The Bickersons because those two argued and pushed each other’s buttons. Both were competitive, strong willed, and had to have the last word. They knew each other so well they could finish each other’s sentences and thoughts.

They have everything in the world; smart, successful, rich, not to mention what an attractive couple they made. Both were tall. Scott six-foot-three, Caitlin five-eight. Both were forty-two years old. With the demands of their careers, they should look fifty-five. They didn’t. Early thirties maybe. No sign of any gray hair. Not in Scott’s wavy blonde locks, nor Caitlin’s straight shoulder length
mahogany tresses. Could be dyed. Probably not. Must be in the genes. That last thought startled Drew and reminded him about genes, DNA, family, and lots of questions he still needed to ask. Enough musing, he had a job to do.

He tapped on the table, looked into Caitlin’s eyes, and said, “Caitlin, tell me what happened sixteen years ago.”

Caitlin didn’t outwardly show any emotion but her eyes betrayed her. They were the most unique color. Blue-gray until she became angry then they turned light aqua.

An immediate transformation of eye color took place; blue-gray turned into clear aqua. If the sun were still out, eyes and the Caribbean Sea would be indistinguishable. She began the saga with a calm voice. “After my grandmother’s funeral, my father told me…”

Jack Spencer entered the living room and saw her on the couch reading. He listened for sounds of movement, heard nothing but a quiet house and assumed the twins were surfing. Where else would they be? Ranch house in Deal, New Jersey, with the beach a block away, the waves lured them like a magnet. The seventeen-year-old boys were one hundred percent beach bums.