Free Waters Run Deep by Liz Talley Page B

Baton Rouge serial killer. Blaine had been the first to develop a geographical profile and pinpoint the area in which victims disappeared, earning himself a spot as the poster boy. “There’s been a definite threat this go around.”
    Carter bent forward. “A definite threat? Against me? Or Spencer?”
    Blaine picked up the protected note and handed it to Carter. Carter blanched, handing the note back to the sheriff. “How? I thought we’d left this nonsense back in L.A. Thought yesterday’s scare was a fluke.”
    “It was,” Nate interrupted, “but this isn’t. This is someone getting serious with your family.” He nodded his head toward the dead bird.
    Carter’s gaze slid to the gruesome talisman lying on the table. “Christ.”
    Blaine motioned toward the house. “We’ll need to ask some questions. Why don’t you go inside with Wynn?”
    Carter shook his head. “I’ve got to get to the set. We’re behind and—”
    “Your son is more important, don’t you think?” Blaine said, nodding toward Wynn. “Get a statement from him and the mother.
    Nate, talk to your mother, Lucille and the nanny. Let’s make this official. I’ll put a call out to Hollywood division and see if we can get what they have. Then you can take it from—”
    “Call Burrell,” Carter interrupted. “He’s at Quantico and has all the files.”
    Blaine looked at Nate, communicating what they both knew. This FBI agent had humored Keene. High priority would not be given to a threat such as the ones received by the Hollywood couple...unless it went public. And it really didn’t need to be made public at this point. Later Nate would call the agent Carter had an “in” with. Relatively speaking, the FBI was rather useless on something like this, but he’d be courteous. Never know when he might need a favor of his own someday.
    Carter rose without another word and followed Wynn inside the kitchen. A few more deputies arrived, and Blaine gave them instructions for canvassing the area. That left Nate to find Annie.
    The mysterious Annie Perez. Could she be in on the threats? He didn’t want to think so, but she was hiding something and she’d had opportunity that morning. But setting up a kidnapping? His blood ran cold at the thought.
    His gut told him Annie wasn’t the perpetrator. She’d seemed genuinely concerned about the boy yesterday, and she’d have to be a consummate actress to fake the emotion he’d glimpsed.
    But he’d been fooled before.
    Hadn’t his dad trusted the gardener?
    Hadn’t a young Nate, along with his siblings, laughed as the man wheeled them at dizzying speeds in the wheelbarrow? Hadn’t Della always followed Sal as he plucked roses and trimmed the thorns so she could twine them in her curls? The man had smiled at them with manufactured loyalty as he plotted to poison them with his greed.
    Nate shouldn’t trust Annie any more than he trusted the town drunk. And the town drunk was the president of Homestead Bank and Trust.

    * * *
ANNIE SLIPPED INTO THE house, ducked into the empty library and pulled out her cell phone. Ace answered on the second ring.
    “Sterling.”
    “We got a big problem,” Annie said, checking to make sure no one was around. She shut the door with a soft snick.
    “Whoever’s been making threats is here in Louisiana.”
    “Damn,” Ace breathed. She could almost see him in his trademark Bermuda shorts and surfer T-shirt, tugging on his shaggy hair in frustration. “Jimmy got a lead on a bit actor for Keene on Miami Metro. The dude got into a fistfight with Keene on the set during the last episode. Had something to do with Tawny. No alibi for the night of the vandalism either. I thought we might be close to shutting this one down.”
    “I don’t think so,” Annie said, moving toward the floor-to-ceiling windows flanking the large antique desk. She moved on the balls of her feet, her footfalls making no sound on the Oriental carpet. The stuffed bear stared at her from the