Dead by Sunrise

by Richard Ryker

  Back at the station, Brandon found Nolan in the break room. His shift started in a few minutes.

  “Morning, chief,” Nolan said, pouring powdered cream into a cup of coffee. He didn’t look up at Brandon.

  Did Nolan know Brandon and Misty had been an item back in high school? If he did, it would make it that much harder for them to get along.

  Things were never easy.

  Brandon was Nolan’s boss, and whatever Brandon and Misty had had in the past was irrelevant when he was on the clock.

  “You finish the rounds with the sex offenders yesterday?” Brandon asked.

  “Yes, and it was pretty much a waste of time.”

  “All of them denied involvement?”

  “Right.”

  “Alibis?” Brandon asked.

  “Yep.”

  “All of them?”

  “That’s what I said.” Nolan stirred the creamer for half a second and tossed the plastic spoon in the trash. “Look, Mattson. I didn’t graduate the academy yesterday, and I’m not some reserve like Jackson—”

  “Jackson’s a good cop,” Brandon said.

  “My point is, you don’t need to nitpick everything I do.”

  That was for Brandon to decide. Nolan had shown himself to be lazy, at best. Bordering on negligent.

  “What about the background check on the victim’s friends?”

  The night before, Brandon had asked Jackson to pass along the message to Nolan that he should look into all three of Lauren’s friends. By the blank look on Nolan’s face, it was obvious he hadn’t done what Brandon asked.

  “What checks?”

  “I asked Jackson to tell you. Last night.”

  “Well, she didn’t,” Nolan said.

  Brandon walked over to the desk where Nolan usually sat. On top of Nolan’s notebook, next to his keys, was a note from Jackson, explaining what Brandon wanted him to do.

  “I just saw that,” Nolan said. His face flashed red with anger and he moved to leave.

  Brandon stepped in front of Nolan. “I don’t know how things worked around here before,” Brandon said. “But I will not put up with bullshit. Especially lies.”

  “You come in here riding on your brother’s coat tails—”

  “What?”

  “Everyone knows you only got this job because of your last name, because of Eli’s reputation.”

  “I’m here because I earned the job. You didn’t.”

  Nolan was still pissed he’d been passed over for the chief position. Brandon would be too. Except Brandon wouldn’t be such an ass about it.

  “I need to trust my officers, and I hope you’ll learn to trust me. If neither of those can happen, I suggest you find another department.”

  “You’re threatening to fire me over a note?”

  “I’m telling you that what I’ve seen so far from you is sloppy police work. This town deserves better than that, and so do your fellow officers.”

  Nolan’s eyes darted away.

  He turned back to Brandon, his gaze cold, resentful. “I’ll get started on those background checks. Sir.”

  Brandon had his butt in his chair for less than two seconds when there was a tap at his office door. Brandon motioned for Will to come in.

  “Anything new on the Sandoval girl?” Will asked.

  Brandon hadn’t seen Will since the day before, during the meeting where Brandon chastised his crew about the dropped missing person report.

  “Wasted half the day yesterday searching for vampire fangs like those that made the bite on the girl’s neck,” Brandon said. “I have to follow up on some sort of vampire high priest living on a farm outside of town. I’m sure it’ll be a dead end.”

  Will shifted in his seat. “I wouldn’t take that stuff lightly. Some people believe they’re vampires. Any idea what the graffiti at the Forks Diner means?”

  “I talked to two of the shops. They weren’t much help. Except the lead on the vampire guy.”

  “You talked to Phoenix?”

  “Yeah. She’s…interesting.”

  “I’m surprised she couldn’t tell you more about the symbol. She’s known for her interest in the occult. Some churches in town have been trying to get her shut down.”

  “I don’t think they need to bother. She doesn’t seem to have many customers as it is.”

  Will shrugged.

  “So, I, ah, heard you and Nolan.”

  Brandon locked eyes on Will. He must have been down the hallway, waiting for Nolan and Brandon to wrap up their conversation.

  “Yeah, well he’s not too happy with me being chief,” Brandon said.

  “I wouldn’t worry about Nolan,” Will said. “He’ll get over it. Or he won’t.”

  Brandon considered Will. “Why didn’t you apply for the chief position?”

  “Too old. Other reasons, too.” He pointed a thumb toward the common area, where Nolan was now.

  Brandon nodded. “I hear that.”

  He leaned forward. “Is it true that people think the only reason I got the job was because of Eli? I mean, because of the family name?”

  Will took his time considering the question, and that itself was answer enough.

  “You were qualified for this job. I’ve seen your resume, heard about the cases you solved.”

  “How?”

  “Eli couldn’t shut up about you. Always bragging about his little brother.”

  Brandon held back a smile. Eli was that way—liked to build Brandon up.

  “I’ll tell you this. It doesn’t matter one damn bit what people think about you. What matters is how you handle this job, going forward. You belong here. Prove it.”

  Will was right. People would have their opinions. What mattered was results.

  Brandon tried to shake the conversation with Nolan. He never liked chewing out fellow cops. He made it his goal to lead by example, to motivate people on his team by teaching them why their jobs were important. But every once in a while, you had to be a hard ass. He didn’t like it, but he accepted that responsibility when he took the job. Either Nolan would straighten up, or he’d leave. Hopefully of his own volition. Firing a cop was hard enough. Doing it in a small town where everyone knew everything, that was near impossible.

  Chapter 12

  Brandon had just finished reviewing the evidence they’d gathered so far when Jackson came rushing into his office.

  “Chief! Good news.”

  “Alright. Catch your breath.”

  She sat down in the chair across from him.

  “What’s up?”

  “I was going through the list of campers I got from the park service—the ones who had registered but had left by the time we started our investigation.”

  “Right.”

  Calling the campers who had already vacated the site was Jackson’s idea.

  “I was on my fifth call and got someone who said they saw Lauren Sandoval,” she said.

  “You’re sure?”

  “This guy, Edward Voss is his name, he was going to his car around midnight to get an extra blanket. Apparently, his wife complained it was too cold and—”

  “This was the night Lauren disappeared?”

  “Exactly. He was headed to his car and noticed a girl in her early twenties trying to get into a truck.”

  “Probably Justin’s,” Brandon said.

  “And after trying the handle, she gives up and heads for the road and starts walking toward town.”

  If this was true, it opened up a new angle on the case. After her friends had gone to sleep, Lauren had left the campsite, not toward the beach, but toward town. How far had she gotten? And how did she end up in the ocean later that evening?

  “He’s sure she headed to Forks?”

  “Yep. And I emailed him a copy of the missing person photo. He’s sure it was her. He said she seemed pretty out of it, like she’d been drinking.”

  That was consistent with the autopsy report. Lauren’s BAL was .21.

  “Y
ou run a background report on this Edward Voss?” Brandon asked.

  It wasn’t uncommon for criminals to revisit the scene of the crime. Especially in cases involving murder under such unusual circumstances.

  “No criminal record. No arrests,” she said.

  The fourteen-mile road between Second Beach and Forks was a long stretch of farmhouses and forest. Had she planned on walking all the way into town?

  She might have misjudged the distance, being from out of town—and intoxicated.

  “Okay, we move the investigation to Forks. Did anyone see her there? Did she stop at a house on the way in?”

  “I’ll start asking around,” Jackson said. “Even though it’s a long shot. Not much is open that late.”

  “Good point. I want you to focus on the stretch of road between the beach and Forks. Start at the parking lot where she was last seen and stop and each house. That’s not too many, since we’re talking farms.”

  “Got it,” she nodded.

  After she’d gone, Josiah poked his head into the room. “What’s up with all the excitement?”

  “We might have a lead. Lauren Sandoval was seen walking into Forks, alone.”

  “What do you need me to do?” Josiah asked.

  “Canvas the shops. Start at the north end of town. I’ll take the south side. Any information, anyone who has any idea of her whereabouts. Ask if they have any outward facing video camera’s they might let you take a look at.”

  “Got it,” Josiah said.

  Brandon would have to put aside his plans to visit Vasile Anghel’s home again. The info from Jackson suggesting that Lauren had somehow made her way toward town took the investigation a different direction.

  Half an hour into his search, he’d interviewed three store owners—long shots for sure. A feed store, a hair salon, and a boutique wine shop. They would have closed for the evening by the time Lauren wandered into Forks, if she’d made it that far. But what he hoped for was any street facing video footage. None of the shops he interviewed owned cameras.

  His next stop was Bar-B-Que Pete’s. Back in the day the building had been a greasy spoon restaurant. After a recent remodel, the place had the look and feel of a suburban sports bar. They weren’t open until lunch on Sundays and the parking lot was empty, so he made a note to come back later.

  Brandon got back in his SUV and pointed it toward downtown. He’d never thought about how many businesses there were in a town as small as Forks. Rather than wasting the morning on long shots, he’d try a few high value targets first. His eyes landed on the Jackpot Gas Stop and Convenience Store a few blocks up.

  He knew the store opened late. He’d stopped there to get beer the night his buddies from Seattle helped him move in.

  Brandon parked behind the gas station. He circled the building checking for video cameras. He found one, just above the main entrance.

  Inside, he surveyed the store for other cameras. There was one in the far corner, above a sign that read Restrooms for Customer Use Only.

  There was one patron, a guy buying a hotdog and a pack of smokes. Brandon waited for him to leave and approached the counter.

  “What do you need?”

  The cashier was a woman in her fifties, as far as he could tell, with a smoker’s complexion and pasty white skin. Her red hair was in a sloppy ponytail, as if she’d pulled it back a day ago and left it there.

  “You have other cameras besides that one?” he asked.

  She considered him, moved something around in her mouth. Maybe candy or gum. He could smell the mint on her breath.

  “No,” she replied.

  Brandon squinted at the nametag on her wrinkled, food-stained gas station uniform.

  “Tell me, Ruby, do you only work morning shift?”

  “I work whenever they want me to. Too much, if you ask me.”

  “You ever work graveyard, like after midnight?”

  “Sometimes,” she said. “I work nine or ten hours, sometimes longer, until whenever the owner feels like showing up.”

  “On the night of June twenty-first, that was three nights ago counting last night, did you work then?”

  “What day?”

  Ruby’s eyes were as glazed over as a sugar-dipped donut. She’d gotten lost in a mind fog, and it didn’t appear she would find her way out any time soon. It was hard to tell if this was her normal state or if she needed a couple days to catch up on sleep.

  “Thursday,” Brandon said. “Going into Friday morning.”

  “What’s this about? If someone made a complaint, you need to talk to the owners.”

  Why would someone make a complaint against a gas station?

  “You’ve had complaints before?” he asked.

  She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, crossing her arms.

  “No.”

  Brandon took that as a yes.

  “I’m investigating the disappearance of Lauren Sandoval.”

  Ruby blinked. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter. She’d found her way out of the fog.

  Brandon had started unfolding the photo of Lauren but stopped.

  “You know her?”

  Ruby’s expression slackened. She shrugged her shoulders. “Heard the name.”

  “When?”

  “I keep to myself—come to work, go home and sleep. I don’t bother nobody. What do I have to do with some missing girl?”

  Brandon unfolded the photo on the counter between them, turned it so Ruby had to look down at Lauren’s face.

  “She’s been murdered.”

  Ruby stepped back.

  She was hiding something, and Brandon had to decide which tact to take, good cop or bad cop. Ruby seemed the kind of person who’d respond to the more direct approach.

  “This is a homicide investigation. And I’m sure you don’t want to get in the way of finding out who murdered this young woman. How do you know her?”

  “I don’t—”

  “The truth,” Brandon said.

  She stared back at him, her eyes redder than they were a moment earlier.

  “She came in here, okay. Got beer. I didn’t want to say anything.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Because she was pretty out of it. I mean, you can’t tell now days, with all the weed people smoke, if they’re drunk or high or both.”

  “We’re talking Thursday night, after midnight.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who was she with?”

  “No one. I mean. Once she was in the store.”

  “Before that?”

  She shrugged her shoulders again. “I don’t want to get no one in trouble.”

  Brandon never quite understood the concept of hiding the truth from the cops, especially when it involved a murder.

  Brandon tried his best to smile empathetically. “I understand wanting to protect—”

  “I’m just saying, I’m no narc.” She took a good look at Brandon. “You’re new around here?”

  “No.”

  “I never seen you before.”

  “Grew up here. I’m the Chief of Police. Now answer my question.”

  She glanced out the window at the parking lot. He worried she might clam up. If she was protecting someone, she needed to know the consequences.

  “What’s your last name Ruby?”

  “Taylor.”

  Brandon pulled out his notepad. “Your home address?”

  “Why do you need to know that?”

  “You may be the last person to see Lauren Sandoval alive. You are a witness in this investigation.”

  “I said I didn’t know her.”

  Brandon’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the incoming number. It was Emma. He’d let Tori’s call go to voicemail earlier.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Outside, he answered the call. “What’s going on?”

  “Mom is being—”

  “Look, I can’t deal with you and your mom’s bickering right now.”r />
  Couldn’t they figure out things on their own? Just this one time.

  “Dad, I can’t stay here any longer—”

  “You need to finish school. Two weeks, okay?”

  “Yesterday was the last day of class.”

  “I got to go,” he said, hanging up.

  Brandon slid the phone into his pocket and stepped back into the store.

  “Okay, Ruby. Your address?”

  She gave him her address. He’d follow up with the owners later to make sure Ruby was being honest.

  “Now tell me, who was with Lauren before she came in the store?”

  Ruby slid the candy around in her mouth until it settled in her cheek. “A tow truck dropped her off, out by the curb. That’s all I know.”

  “Which tow company?”

  “How was I supposed to know I’d be part of some murder investigation?”

  “Was there a logo?”

  “I didn’t look,” she said.

  “I’ll need to check the video. Inside and out.”

  She glared back at him. “The cameras don’t work. Haven’t for years.”

  Brandon held her gaze for a moment. Ruby blinked and glanced away.

  “I’ll get a warrant, then,” he said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “You sold her beer. What kind and how much?”

  To Brandon’s surprise, Ruby answered the question. “Six pack, Coors Light.”

  “That’s all?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And she left with the tow truck driver?”

  “No. He was gone by then.”

  “So she just walked away.”

  “Yep. That way.” She pointed north, toward downtown.

  Josiah was canvassing that section of town. Hopefully he’d found at least one business with active video surveillance.

  “Anything else?”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Did the girl say anything?” he asked.

  “Nope. Just bought the beer and left.”

  Brandon studied Ruby’s expression. She was more worried than she should be if the only interaction she’d ever had with Lauren was to sell her a six-pack of beer. A sheen of sweat covered Ruby’s face now.

  She seemed to notice Brandon’s scrutiny and cast a frown. “Too bad about the girl. I hope you catch whoever did this.”