Ice (A Chris Matheson Cold Case Mystery Book 1) Read online

  “You were going to take the elevator on up to the dinner dance. The ding signaled someone coming,” Chris said. “So, you turned around and walked away, acting like you had just gotten there on another elevator ahead of me. You must have thought that would be perfect. You and I would find Peyton’s body together.”

  “You have to admit, it was a good plan,” Mason said.

  “It was,” Chris said. “But then you messed up.”

  “How?”

  “You knocked on Peyton’s office door, but you didn’t knock on the bathroom door. That’s because there was no point in knocking since she couldn’t answer.”

  “Because I’d already killed her.”

  Silence fell over the room.

  Helen’s voice was barely above a whisper when she said, “Mason Davenport, I’m arresting you for the murder of Peyton Davenport.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The buzzing of the phone on the nightstand dragged Chris out of a deep sleep. With effort, he opened his eyes and rolled them up under his upper lids in a vain effort to break loose from his REM state.

  Still, the phone persisted.

  He rolled over in his bed and reached out from under the covers. A blast of cold air sent a shiver up his arm and down his spine.

  The phone was far away on the other side of Emma, Thor, and Sterling.

  “Aw, man!”

  Seeing that it would be impossible to reach the phone while remaining in the comfort of his warm bed, Chris sat up and stretched over the sleeping bodies. As his hand made contact with the phone, it stopped ringing.

  “Damn!”

  He dropped back onto the bed and checked the call list.

  Helen.

  There was no picture attached to her caller ID. I’m going to need to fix that.

  Chris slipped out of the bed. The cold hardwood floor sent an icy shock up his legs and back and across his shoulders. Shrugging into his bathrobe, he hurried to shove his feet into his slippers.

  He waited until he made it downstairs to the kitchen and had punched the button to start the coffee brewing before he called Helen back.

  “You’re up early,” he told her after making a note of the time. It was only a few minutes after seven o’clock.

  “We have a serial killer out there,” Helen said. “Forensics ran that comparison of Ethel Lipton’s DNA to the DNA found at Angela Romano’s crime scene.”

  “The woman who was murdered in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, in 1995,” Chris said.

  “Who we believe to have been Carson’s first victim. It’s a familial match, Chris. Close enough to be a child of Ethel Lipton and it’s male.”

  “Which means, unless Ethel Lipton has another son we don’t know about, Carson killed Romano,” Chris said.

  “That’s not all,” Helen said. “Mabel Lipton’s body was found in a motel room outside Frederick. She’d been stabbed multiple times. They put the time of death to be sometime yesterday afternoon.”

  “He killed his wife? Mabel was an aggressive woman. She reminded me of Ethel. She must have done something to make him snap. I hope he’s not on a killing spree.”

  “Well,” Helen said, “he got at least a twelve-hour head start. He could have jumped on a bus, stolen a car. There’s no telling where he is. I’m heading up to Frederick.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Chris asked.

  There was a long moment of silence before she answered, “I’d like for you to go. You know Carson better than any of us, but…” Her voice trailed off.

  “But what?”

  “You promised Sierra a riding lesson today,” she said. “She’d be heartbroken if you canceled.”

  “We can’t have that.” Chris smiled. “Send her down and fill me in later.”

  She was about to disconnect the call when he stopped her. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too,” she said with a smile in her voice.

  “Have you got any plans?” The coffee had finished brewing. Chris took a mug out of the cabinet and filled it.

  “Well, I was planning to go out with my guy,” she said, “but he didn’t dance with me at all last night—”

  “Because you were too busy arresting a killer,” Chris said.

  “You were the one who decided to break the case open before dinner,” she said. “By the way, I put in a really good word for you this morning with your old boss Regina.”

  “Are we talking bonus?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Helen said. “She had her sights set on the Krawford family. She was very disappointed that all she got was a dead changeling.”

  “Well,” Chris said with a sigh, “you can’t win them all.”

  “I’ll say. I shaved my legs and all I got was mac and cheese for dinner.”

  “How about if I make it up to you?” Chris asked.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’ve got reservations for seven at the Bavarian Inn.”

  “Seven? Sounds cozy.”

  Dressed in several layers of clothes, Nikki galloped down the back stairs and across the kitchen to give Chris a hug.

  “My girls won’t allow me to go out without them,” he said before kissing Nikki on the tip of her nose. “Valentine’s Day is a big deal in this house.”

  “Yeah,” Nikki yelled in the direction of the phone. “It’s a big deal here!”

  “Are you and Sierra game to join us for dinner?”

  “Sierra will be,” she said. “Me? It depends on what you have planned for dessert.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I was hoping you’d show me the new pulleys you got up in the hay loft,” she said. “Sierra is getting dressed. She’ll be there in about half an hour.”

  Chris chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do about dessert.”

  After disconnecting the call, he took a sip of his coffee. He could hear Nikki putting on her riding boots, coat, and gloves in the mudroom.

  “What horse are you going to teach Sierra on?” Nikki asked.

  “Chewbacca,” Chris said.

  The chestnut mare was Katelyn’s quarter horse. She was both gentle and frisky enough to give an inexperienced rider a good ride without fear of being thrown.

  “Do you want me to saddle up Traveler for you, too?”

  “No, you’re going to be my sample rider,” Chris said. “Saddle up Chewbacca and KitKat. Break out Nonni’s riding equipment. Sierra can use that until she gets her own.” He started up the stairs to his room to get dressed.

  “Do I have to wear a dress for dinner tonight?” Nikki called upstairs.

  “No, but you do have to dress up.”

  “No fair! I have to get dressed up to impress your girlfriend.” The door slammed behind her.

  On the second floor, Chris encountered Doris in the hallway. For the Valentine’s Day holiday, she donned her ruby red dressing gown with a faux fur collar and fancy high-heeled open-toed red slippers.

  As always, Sadie and Mocha flanked her on either side.

  “I’m sorry to say, Christopher, I will not be joining you and the girls for dinner at the Bavarian tonight.” With a coy smile, she smoothed her hair. “I lie. I’m not sorry.”

  “Mother, do you have a Valentine’s date with a certain book club leader? I did notice the rose he gave you.”

  She flashed him a demure smile while sashaying past him.

  “Should I count on Katelyn to join us for dinner tonight?”

  “Never rush a woman to make up her mind.” Doris made her way down the stairs.

  “My mother,” he sighed before continuing up to the top floor to get dressed in his riding clothes.

  Emma was still asleep with both arms wrapped around Sterling. She had her face buried in his mane. Thor was cu
rled up against the dog’s stomach.

  My family. With a shake of his head, Chris marveled at how quickly things change. The year before he was a relatively new widower living in the suburbs of northern Virginia and commuting to the city every morning.

  One year later, he was living a life he loved with his girls—all of them—including his first love.

  He opened his dresser drawer to take out his riding pants. By habit, he reached into his closet for his gun box to remove the handgun he always wore in a holster on his belt. He paused.

  What would Sierra think? She shows up for a horseback riding lesson and I step out looking like John Wayne with a gun on my hip?

  His daughters were used to seeing him wearing a weapon on his belt, under his coat, or in an ankle holster for in case he encountered someone from his undercover past. They probably assumed all dads packed concealed weapons at all times.

  Granted, Sierra’s mom was a state police officer but still, he didn’t want to frighten her into thinking he was a big scary thug.

  Chris put the case back on the shelf. It’s just in the field next to the barn. We’ll be safe for a few hours.

  In the kitchen, Doris stopped at the counter to sniff the rose that she had put in a bud vase. With a soft smile, she remembered how Elliott had doted on her the entire night.

  Kirk liked Elliott. He was a good friend. She reassured herself. Kirk would be pleased.

  With a wistful sigh, she stepped to the coffeemaker.

  Katelyn skipped down the stairs, hit the hardwood floors in her stocking feet and slid across the floor to collide into Doris. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Nonni!” She hugged her.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, sweetheart.” Doris kissed her.

  Katelyn slid to the refrigerator and pulled it open. “Cool rose. Is it from Dad?”

  “No,” Doris said with a coy grin.

  “Who then?” Katelyn took a carton of orange juice out of the fridge. When she saw Doris’s smile, she giggled. “Nonni, have you got yourself a boyfriend?”

  “He’s just a friend.”

  “Does he have a grandson my age?” Katelyn took a glass out of the cupboard. “Maybe we can double for Valentine’s Day.”

  “What happened to Zack?”

  “I kicked him to the curb,” she said. “My heart is too precious to waste on someone so unworthy.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  They bumped fists before hugging each other.

  “Hey, Nonni, I figured out your talent.”

  “Oh, what?”

  “Baton twirling.”

  Doris let out a loud laugh that startled Sadie and Mocha. “Dear, child! Have you ever seen me twirl a baton?”

  The horses were skiddish that morning. Traveler, in particular, paced, threw back his head, and whinnied. Nikki dismissed their high spirits to nervousness from the roar of the wind. After wheeling the wheelbarrow over to the first stall, she stopped when she felt the trickle of hayseeds drop onto her head from the loft. She peered up and heard the rustle of something move across the floor. It was bigger than a barn cat.

  Bobcats again!

  She took her grandfather’s old bull whip from the hook next to the door and slung it across her shoulder to use in case the cat was brave enough to show itself. Experience had taught her that wild animals like bobcats and coyotes were more afraid of humans than people were of them. She made a mental note to tell her father. He’d take care of it by capturing the bobcat and then turning it loose at a nearby wild nature preserve.

  Nikki took Chewbacca out of her stall and went into the tack room to get the grooming box.

  When she heard heavy footsteps across the barn floor, she assumed it was her father. Then, several of the horses whinnied and stomped inside their stalls. She heard Chewbacca wail and rear up.

  Nikki ran to the doorway and came face to face with a man who she had never seen in her life.

  His face and clothes were covered in dried blood. But even that was not as terrifying to the girl as the wild look in his eyes. They reminded her of a desperate predator lusting for prey to kill.

  “You must be one of Chris’s girls.” He took a step toward her.

  She backed into the room.

  Blocking the doorway, he had her trapped.

  Nikki’s heart raced. Her first thought was of the horses. If he kills me, what’s he going to do to the horses—to her beloved KitKat?

  With one hand, she snatched the whip off her shoulder and lashed out with it as her grandfather had taught her. She had gotten so good with it that she was able to take aim and pick off one can of soda in the middle of a long row.

  Her first lash left a gash across his face. With a wail, he grabbed the stinging wound with both hands while she escaped from the tack room. Once she was out, she turned around and continued her assault in hopes of trapping him inside the room until her father got there.

  Insanity pushed through the pain of the attack. Carson advanced toward the doorway. Even as the whip slashed his flesh, he was determined to extract his revenge.

  Mabel was dead. It was all Christopher Matheson’s fault.

  Carson reached out to her. As he expected, she snapped the whip which wrapped around his arm. Then, he grasped it and yanked her toward him to grab her.

  “Let me go!” she screamed.

  The roaring wind almost drowned out her call when the door flew open.

  The gust of icy air slapped Carson across the face.

  “Let go of her!” Chris’s voice bounced off the rafters and walls.

  Wrapping his arm around Nikki to hold her tight, Carson let out a laugh brimming with malice—only to have it turn into a cry of agony. Refusing to give up, Nikki bit down hard on his forearm with such force that her teeth tore through his flesh.

  Chris had seen a lot of women fall victim to violence—many unnecessarily because they had been taught to always play by the rules. He made it a point to teach each of his girls that there are no rules when it comes to fighting for your life. Fight hard and fight dirty.

  Nikki clamped down on Carson’s forearm and held on while he shoved her away. Once she was free, Chris thrusted her toward the open barn door.

  “Go get Nonni!” Chris tackled Carson in the midsection and the two men tumbled backward into the tack room.

  Nikki ran for the door. As she sped past Chewbacca, she saw that the frightened horse was still tethered to the hitching post. Gasping for her breath, she quickly untied the lead with trembling fingers, and ran out the door with the horse galloping behind her.

  Never had the barn yard felt as big as it did that morning. It was far enough for the reality of the situation to hit home.

  Her father was doing battle with a mad man in the barn—like the mad man who’d taken her mother away from her—forever.

  “Nonni!”

  By the time Nikki burst into the house, tears were streaming down her face. Doris turned around in her seat at the kitchen table. Sensing the threat in the barn, Sadie and Mocha ran for the door only to find it shut. Their commands to get into the fight were ignored.

  Her face wet with tears, Nikki rushed into Doris’s arms and buried her face in the red fur of her collar.

  “Nikki, dear, what’s wrong?”

  “D-dad-dy! B—bad—” Her voice shaking, Nikki found it hard to form the words.

  Hearing a car pulling into the driveway, Katelyn got up from the table and looked out through the window. Sierra got out of her car and trotted up the path to the barn.

  “Sierra’s here,” Katelyn said. “She’s going into the barn.”

  “Crazy man in the barn trying to kill Dad!” Nikki screamed.

  Katelyn ran for the door to let Mocha and Sadie out only for Doris to yell, “No!”

  “No?” Katelyn swore she heard wrong.

 
Eerily calm, Doris strode into the mudroom and yanked open a drawer at the very top of the cabinet. “Sadie. Mocha.” Both dogs sat at attention. “You stay and protect the girls. Sterling will protect Emma and Thor.”

  Doris extracted a forty-four Magnum, Smith & Wesson revolver from the drawer. Katelyn and Nikki swore it was the biggest gun they had ever seen.

  “Don’t just stand there, child.” Doris checked the chambers. “Call the police to tell them we have a mad man in the barn.” She threw open the door. “And we’re going to need the medical examiner.”

  Chris didn’t realize there was a whip in the fight until he had pinned Carson to the floor in the tack room, only to have him loop the whip around his neck. As Chris tried to pull away, Carson yanked him back and head butted him.

  Fighting the white stars in his eyes, Chris delivered a one-two punch to Cason’s head and scrambled off him. He rushed out of the tack room and slammed the door to lock Carson inside—only to have Carson block the door with his leg.

  “I’m gonna take everyone you love, Matheson! Just like you did to me!”

  Chris fought to untangle himself from the whip while slamming against the door to latch it. Rage out-powered his sense of pain so that Carson showed no reaction to the door continually hitting his thigh.

  Freed from the whip, Chris tossed it aside. In the split second that he moved to throw it aside, Carson charged against the door. With a crash, Chris hit the floor—knocking the wind out of him.

  Chris rolled over onto his back in the same instant that Carson rammed the blade of a shovel into the floor where his neck had been. Pulling his legs up, Chris planted his feet against Carson’s chest and propelled him back. He then rolled over and scrambled to his feet to reach the gun chest that his father had stored near the door. Before he could get up onto his feet, Carson grabbed him from behind, pulled him up and rammed Chris’s head into a stall door.

  Chris heard a roar in his ears. His head seemed to explode inside his skull. He dropped to all fours.