Cursed by the Fountain of Youth

Chapter 6

Something wasn't adding up. The woman who haunted Nick's dreams and his waking hours presented a mystery. Should he put his investigative skills to use and find out everything he could about Fae? Or would that be considered an invasion of privacy? After all, she wasn't a suspect in a case. She was a student and a woman he would like to get to know better. She had also obviously had a rough life. He should let her reveal things naturally as he gained her trust.

Yes. That's exactly what he would do. He'd just have to ignore the itch to know everything immediately.

"Nick!" Don stood above him.

"What?" Nick asked, perturbed.

"Are we a little distracted?"

Nick ignored the question. "What's the big emergency?

"The bodies of sixteen people were discovered in a compound twenty miles off the Dixie highway. Fourteen were victims of an obvious poisoning, the fifteenth was stabbed through the heart, and the sixteenth was beheaded."

Nick swore. "Do they have any leads?"

"Yeah, they think these are the elusive protectors of the Fountain of Youth."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope."

"I thought that was a myth."

"The Fountain of Youth is a myth; this group of radical worshipers obviously is not. We leave now."

"I can't."

Don stopped and looked back, stunned.

"Did I hear you correctly, Agent Chase?" a familiar voice came from behind.

Nick turned around. "Hello, ASAC Young."

She looked up at Nick and sneered. "You will help in this investigation."

With dark brown hair, steel-blue eyes, and a body with curves in just the right places, Nick had at one time found Cheryl Young attractive. That time was long gone. Her sour personality overpowered everything appealing about her.

"Absolutely," he answered, "but I'm busy this morning."

"Doing what?" she blurted.

"I'm teaching a college course. Thank you so much for recommending me."

She swore under her breath. "This is a big case."

"And teaching college is a big responsibility. I'm guessing that if I don't show up, that would be bad for public relations, am I right?"

She scowled at him. "Come in your own car as soon as your class is done. I'll send you the coordinates."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, resisting the urge to mock her with a salute.

Two hours later, Nick approached a line of news vans a mile long parked along the side of the highway. He double-parked beside an ABC news van. Orange cones and police in yellow jackets directed the cars away from the scene—giving the FBI room to work.

Stepping from his car, he reporters bombarded him with questions. He simply said, "Just arrived. Don't know a thing."

"Do you know if this really is the Fountain of Youth?"

That question caught his attention. Nick looked over to see the person who'd asked it. There were too many reporters to ascertain the individual.

Still, Nick didn't bother answering him. He doubted he didn't need to—his expression showed it all. That reporter was an idiot.