by D P Lyle
Why not hide the bodies? Why leave them where they would be easily found? Or was their being found a necessary part of the crime?
A message? See what happens if you cross me, us.
Did either Emily or Jason, or both, step on someone’s toes and that person used them to warn others of the consequences of such decisions? Gangs and drug dealers do that all too often. The U.S.-Mexico border was littered with such corpses.
Fairhope wasn’t exactly a hot bed of gang activity. Did the cartels reach this far? Of course they did. Their arms were long. We had seen some of their activities down around Gulf Shores so why should Fairhope be left off their radar? The cartels aside, we didn’t yet know much about the local drug culture. On the surface, this area seemed too normal, too idyllic for that to be a big issue. I knew better. Even perfect little towns had warts. More than once I had tossed someone from Captain Rocky’s for selling drugs. Even permanently banned a couple of dudes.
Could drugs be the glue that held this together? Jason had meth in his pocket, and this sure smelled like a drug hit. Pop, pop, done. No fuss, no muss. Message delivered.
But it didn’t fit what we knew about Emily. Jason? Didn’t know much about him yet. Could he have been the real target and Emily merely collateral damage?
Too many questions. Too many directions this could go.
We were in Nicole’s car headed back north after leaving Warren at the station and thanking her for the information. She had reminded us of our promise to share anything we uncovered.
I told Nicole what I was thinking.
“I guess it could be a drug deal gone bad,” she said. “Or maybe one of them got in debt to a dealer.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Fairhope doesn’t seem to be a major drug hub.”
“True,” I said. “But that’s a problem everywhere.”
“That would complicate things,” Nicole said.
“And up the ante considerably. If some really bad guys are involved, it makes our job a shade more tricky. And dangerous.”
She glanced at me. “You mean, like if we start digging into someone’s business, they might push back?”
“Exactly.”
Nicole whipped past a slow-moving pickup. “You’re just full of good news.”
I had another thought. Don’t know where it came from but there it was.
“It wasn’t just one guy,” I said.
“Who wasn’t?”
“The killers.”
“Why would you think that?” she asked.
“How does one guy control two people? Without binding them.”
She thought about that for a couple of seconds. “The trunk?”
“I guess that’s possible.”
“Or they were drugged?”
“Also possible.”
“Or make them drive, the guy sits in the back, gun on them. Or maybe they met him there.”
Each of those were possible. Except the latter. Who could’ve driven either Emily’s or Jason’s car back home? Two or more guys made the most sense. To me anyway. I told her that.
“You’re getting good at this,” she said.
“I am.”
“Ray would be proud.”
“Not likely.”
We approached Emily’s house. Her former house anyway. The Chevy sedan still in the drive.
“You’re thinking that’s Sean’s car?” Nicole asked.
“Don’t know who else would be here.”
To answer the question, Sean came through the front door. He stopped at the foot of the steps when he saw Nicole turn into the drive. We climbed out. He eyed us suspiciously, then looked at Nicole. His expression softened. She had that effect.
“Sean?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I made the introductions. “We’re sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.” He glanced at Nicole. “I saw you guys at the funeral. With Tommy Jeffers.”
“I didn’t know you knew him.”
“I don’t. Never met him. But Emily talked about him from time to time.”
“We all went to school together,” I said. “A long time ago.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“We’re private investigators,” Nicole said. “We were hired to gather some information on the divorce.”
Sean hesitated. “I just found out she’d filed it. I didn’t know until after I got back on dry land.”
“Unexpected?” I asked.
He kicked at some loose gravel. “Not really. She said she was going to.” He gave a half shrug. “I just didn’t know exactly when that might be.”
“How did you feel about it?” Nicole asked.
“The truth? It was time. We’d separated. Six months now. It was inevitable.”
I nodded.
“We simply drifted apart.” He looked off in the distance, unfocused. “I mean, I think we still loved each other. Or maybe cared a good deal about each other would be a better way of putting it.” He shook his head and looked back toward me. “But, sometimes that ain’t enough.” A deep sigh. “We’d each moved on.”
“So her filing wasn’t a surprise?” Nicole asked.
He shook his head. “Maybe three months ago now, we sat down and decided that was best. For both of us. It’d sort of let us both roll on down the road.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Anyway, I told her it was up to her. That she could make the move whenever it felt right for her. I actually expected it sooner.”
“Those decisions are never easy,” Nicole said.
“That’s the truth of it. Even the right decisions ain’t always easy.” I was impressed with Sean. He seemed—I’m not sure what the word was—maybe resigned. Dumped into a situation that couldn’t be unwound. Sad, for sure, in the face of what had happened, but through all that, he revealed no anger or resentment. Felt that way to me, anyway.
“She was seeing Jason, we understand,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“That okay with you?”
“Jason was a good guy. I was happy for her.”
I smiled. “That’s a very mature attitude.”
“I’ve been seeing someone, too. And Emily was okay with that.”
“From what you’ve said,” Nicole said, “it sounds like the divorce wasn’t going to be contentious.”
“That’s a fact. I didn’t even have no attorney. Figured why spend all that money for no good reason?” He rubbed his nose with the heel of one hand. “She had that guy down in Gulf Shores. Expensive dude. I figured that was about enough to fork over to lawyers.”
Amen to that. Walter Horton was indeed expensive. I know. I had written him checks for some big numbers during my divorce from Tammy. Painful. But then dear old Walter ended up marrying her, so I got off easy. Of course, Walter had gotten back in my pocket just last week. Thanks to the oh-so-pleasant Eddie Peck. I felt like I was becoming an annuity for Walter.
“Were you going to pay part of her legal fees?” I asked.
He nodded. “Seemed fair we’d split all that.”
The more Sean talked, the more normal he seemed. I know when someone is murdered, the spouse is always the first person looked at, but the guy standing before me didn’t seem the type. I didn’t yet know that to be true, but I found myself hoping it was. But then Pancake often said, “Don’t focus on the shiny thing. Watch the magician’s other hand.” Pancake was definitely smarter than the average bear, but was there a shiny thing in play here?
“How much do you know about what happened?” I asked. “How they were killed?”
He scratched his cheek. “Too much.” He looked up toward the sky. “Still hard to believe.”
“Any idea who could’ve done this?” Nicole asked.
His gaze moved to her. “For the life of me, I can’t even imagine who could’ve.” He took a deep breath. “Emily? She didn’t have an enemy in the world.”
“And Jason?” I asked.
“I don’t know
him all that well. He’s only lived here a couple of years. Seemed an easygoing guy. Worked hard for sure.”
“But no enemies?”
“Not that I ever heard. And, for sure, no one who would’ve done this.”
“Let me ask you something,” I said. “And I don’t mean to cast stones at anyone.” Sean looked my way. “With how they were killed. And left where they would easily be found. Looks to me like someone was sending a message.”
“A message?” Sean said. “That don’t make no sense.”
“Any way Emily, or Jason, was involved in anything criminal?”
His head jerked upright. “No way. Not Emily, for sure.”
“Drugs?”
“I’m not sure I like this,” Sean said.
“We’re just trying to look into everything,” Nicole said. “Drug dealers aren’t often bashful about killing anyone who had crossed them.”
“Emily didn’t use drugs. Ever. Wouldn’t have anything to do with them. She barely even drank. Wine every now and again, but even that wasn’t a big deal for her.” He shook his head. “So, no way.” He looked at me. “Why are you interested in this? I mean, there isn’t going to be no divorce now. And you said that’s what you was looking into.”
“We were,” I said. “But things have obviously changed. We have a different client now. Her brother, Danny, asked us to look into Emily’s murder.”
Sean seemed to mull that over. “Wonder what Chief Warren thinks about that?”
“Actually, she’s onboard,” Nicole said. “Maybe not at first, but she seems to welcome any help she can get.”
“She showed us the scene,” I said. “Where the bodies were found. Shared what she knows so far.”
“Which is?” Sean asked.
“Just about nothing.”
“Where is Danny anyway?” Sean asked.
“Headed back to his deployment,” I said. “They only gave him a couple of days to come to the funeral.”
Sean nodded. “He’s the real deal, I’ll tell you that. So if he thinks you guys can help, I’m all for it.”
“What about you?” Nicole asked. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. It’s a bit overwhelming. Seems like every time I think of all the stuff that needs doing, I want to crawl in bed and forget it all.” He glanced toward the house. “The big thing is what to do with the property.” He looked back toward me. “Emily would’ve kept it, of course. Been in her family a long time. But now that it’s in my lap? I just don’t know.”
“The mortgage she took out?” I said. “Would that have been a joint debt?”
His brow furrowed. “You know, I don’t know. I guess it would’ve gone with the property.”
“So it would have been her issue?” Nicole said.
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Though that don’t seem right. I think I’d’ve had to pony up half of it. Maybe not legally, but that’d’ve been the right thing, I think.”
“It’s a moot point,” I said. “The house, the mortgage, they’re yours now.”
He nodded. “Part of me wants to keep it and another part can’t see myself living here.” A deep sigh. “I guess I’ll sell it. Don’t know what else to do.” He shook his head. “This past month hasn’t been a great one.”
I watched him. Waited for him to continue.
He pointed toward his car. “Several weeks ago, a gasket blew. Took a couple of weeks to track down the parts and get it fixed. Cost a bunch to do. Then the place where I work got robbed. Then, this.” He took a deep breath and exhaled, puffing out his cheeks. “I’m about ready for some good news.”
“The oil company got robbed?” Nicole asked.
“No.” He offered a weak smile. “I got two jobs. Out there on the rigs and then I work over at Watkins’ Lumber when I’m here. Two weeks here, two out there on the Gulf.”
“And you were robbed?” I asked.
“Sure was. Two guys came in with guns. Emptied the safe. Scary as hell. Me and Becky Woodley, she’s the bookkeeper for Mr. Watkins. It was a Saturday. We were closing up when they came in.”
“Who?”
He shook his head. “Don’t know. They had on ski masks. And guns.”
“Sounds scary,” Nicole said.
“I honestly thought they’d shoot us both.”
“How much did they take?” I asked.
Sean shook his head. “I don’t really know. Whatever was in there.”
“I take it that it’s still unsolved?” I asked.
“Far as I know that’s true. I’m not sure Chief Warren even has any suspects.”
“They say bad news comes in threes,” I said. “So maybe all that’s behind you now.”
“That’d be welcome.”
“Thanks for talking with us,” Nicole said.
He gave a quick head bob. “Hope you guys, and the chief, can find out who did this. Emily didn’t deserve none of it.”
CHAPTER 16
THE NEXT MORNING, I woke up with a hangover. Harsh sunlight angled through Nicole’s bedroom window and sandpapered my eyes. My temples throbbed; my stomach felt like I’d been punched. Lower ribs, left side. Tender when I touched them. I didn’t remember bumping into anything, or falling. Did Nicole hit me? Hard to remember but she does do that sometimes. Woman had a mean hook. And all that Krav Maga crap made her even more dangerous.
The sound of the shower hissed through the open bathroom door, carrying a faint steam cloud with it. I swung out of bed. The room swayed. I saw the tee shirt Nicole had worn to bed on the floor. When I stepped into the shower, Nicole made her move. She wanted sex. I didn’t. Okay, okay, that was a lie. But after last night, it wasn’t my first thought. Until Nicole got all touchy feely. Truth was, she always wanted sex. It was sort of her main hobby.
Last night. Mostly a blur. After we returned from Fairhope, we stopped by Captain Rocky’s, drank tequila with Carla and a couple of the regulars, ate some fried oysters, and then headed to Nicole’s. More tequila, the hot tub, and lots of Nicole.
By the time we finished our shower, and a few acrobatics, the water was cold. We dried quickly and retreated to the bedroom to dress for the day. I rubbed my stomach.
“Did you slug me last night?” I asked.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“You were being an ass.”
“I was?”
“You were. At the bar.”
I racked my brain but came up empty. “What did I do?”
She pulled on a pair of jeans and a tank top. Pink and tight. Oh, yeah. “You don’t remember?”
“No.”
She smiled. “I’m not the keeper of your feeble memory.”
Feeble? “You’re not going to tell me?”
She sat on the bed and slipped on a pair of sandals. “Why should I?”
“So I won’t do it again.”
“You will. Whether I tell you or not. It’s in your nature.” She stood. “Besides, it’ll give me an excuse to whack you again.”
“I should report you to the police.”
“Child protective services might be more appropriate.” She punched my arm. Lightly this time. “Let’s go.”
Off to Ray’s for our scheduled 9:00 a.m. meeting. We swung by Captain Rocky’s on the way. Not for some hair of the dog, though that might have relieved some of the throbbing behind my eyes, but rather for a half dozen breakfast burritos. Three for Pancake, of course.
At Ray’s place, Nicole and I grabbed some coffee from the kitchen before joining Ray and Pancake in Longly Investigation’s main office. The round teak table on the deck. I dropped the bag in front of Pancake. He ripped it open, literally, unwrapped a burrito, and took a bite before grunting out, “Thanks. I was starving.”
Of course he was.
“Ray ain’t got shit to eat in this place.”
“There’s fruit and yogurt in the fridge,” Ray said.
Another massive bite of his burrito and Pancake said, “My point.”<
br />
While we ate, I told Ray about our chats with Chief Warren and Sean.
“Warren’s okay with us sniffing round?” Ray asked.
“I think so,” I said. “She showed us the scene, told us what she had so far.”
“Which was basically nothing,” Nicole added. “She has no suspects and doesn’t really have a line on anyone.”
Pancake chimed in. He had dug into the career of Chief Billie Warren and offered up his findings. Trained at the Birmingham Police Academy. Near the top of her class. Followed by two years on patrol. Involved in one officer-involved shooting.
Harrowing tale, according to Pancake. Serving as backup for the drug unit and SWAT team, she and her partner manned a back road that just might serve as an escape route for a crew of dealers. Rural farmhouse, perfect for meth cooking. The raid went well, but indeed, a pair of skinhead brothers blasted their pickup through a rear wooden gate and climbed on the two-lane blacktop that led them toward Warren. She stood in the road. They gunned the engine. She took out the driver, the truck sailing into a field landing on its roof and skidding into a tree. He showed the picture he had downloaded. Mangled would be the word. The driver didn’t make it, a head injury, not Warren’s bullet, doing him in. The brother vowed vengeance. Which would be delayed twenty years while he was a guest of the State. She was not only cleared, a good shoot it seemed, but she also received a commendation. Then she moved on down I-65 to Fairhope where she worked under the previous chief, ascending to his position when he retired.
“Seems like she’s a good, tough cop,” Pancake said.
That was my take from the little I had seen her.
“We’ll still need to tread lightly,” Ray said. “It’s her turf, and I suspect she defends it tenaciously. Keeping her as an ally will make our job easier.”
“Kid gloves all the way,” I said.
Ray gave a quick nod. “You capable of that?”
“I’ll handle him,” Nicole said.
My father; my girlfriend.
“Jake did have a thought,” Nicole said.
“Really?” Pancake said. “Where’d that come from?”
My friend.
“He thinks every now and then,” Nicole said.
Pancake grunted. “Just with the wrong head.”
