by Rayna Morgan
“Sounds like a place where a kid who thinks he’s murdered his father might want to hang out.”
• • •
Scott pulled the jeep to a stop in front of a dome-shaped structure no more than four feet high. It was constructed of saplings and covered with blankets.
Leaving the vehicle, Tom observed burning logs in an area a short distance away.
“That’s where a fire is built and the stones are heated,” Scott said. “When the stones are white hot, they are taken into the lodge.”
He stopped when they reached the structure.
“Let’s go,” Tom ordered.
“The flap has been dropped over the door. The ceremony has started, no one is allowed in.”
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” Tom said, “but I’ve got to get in there. I’m going to have to crash this little party.”
“Likewise meaning no disrespect, Detective, but participating in a purification ceremony might not be a bad idea for you.”
“Some other time. Right now, I’ve got a murder to solve.”
Crawling into the lodge, they were engulfed by darkness except for a fiery red glow in a shallow pit in the center of the room.
A shiver ran up Tom’s spine. “What’s that?” he whispered, pointing to a buffalo skull on top of a post.
“Don’t worry,” Scott said. “There are no shrunken heads here. It’s only a barrier to warn of the hot stones. It keeps tall guys like you from falling into the fire.”
“Believe me, I’m not about to get close enough to fall in,” Tom said, staring at the feathers on an altar at the base of the post.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he made out the forms of two people sitting cross-legged against the wall of the lodge. An Indian chief sat across the fire smoking a peace pipe.
Tom moved on hands and knees toward what he recognized as Lea’s long copper hair. He crossed his legs and squatted, shifting uncomfortably on the mat of cedar boughs covering the floor.
The chief dipped water and poured it onto the hot stones in the pit, producing large clouds of steam.
Beads of sweat streamed down Tom’s face. “This place is like a steam bath,” he complained.
“That’s sort of the point,” Scott said.
The detective leaned across Lea to touch Dalton’s shoulder. The young man appeared to be in a trance, unaware of his surroundings. His face was a mask of serenity, empty of signs of fear or anxiety.
He turned his head. His hooded eyes appeared unfocused but calm.
“Are you here to arrest me for murdering my father?” His voice was strangely steady with a flat tone of hopelessness which sent a wave of pity through the detective.
“I beg you, Tom,” Lea pleaded. “This boy is not a murderer.”
“Lea’s right, son. The shot you discharged didn’t kill your father. It was a blank.”
Lea gasped, covering Dalton’s hand with her own. “What’s happened, have you found new evidence?”
Tom spoke directly to Lea, uncertain the boy was taking in what was being said. “When I saw Maddy last night, she told me I needed to look at things differently. I applied her advice to this case. Instead of trying to prove Scott guilty, I changed my point of view to prove he’s innocent.
“I sent my sergeant back to the crime scene where he found a second casing. I checked the coroner’s report. There was only one bullet in the body, the one which pierced the victim’s heart.
“The sergeant looked everywhere, but there was no second bullet to be found. When he examined the metal casing, he noted it was crimped on the end; the kind used when the sound and flash of gunfire is needed, but a projectile would not be safe, like the cartridges used in—”
“Cowboy mounted shooting,” Lea said, her excitement growing.
“The crucial element was the timing,” Tom continued. “Dalton helped his sister get ready for her event. His father took care of the registration which meant Dalton didn’t get a program of events. Before I got your text, I confirmed with Scott the scheduling of the shooting event and when he loaded his gun with blanks. What Dalton didn’t realize when he took Scott’s gun was that Scott had already prepared the gun for the contest.”
“Which means the live rounds had been replaced with blanks,” Lea said.
“That’s correct. When Dalton accosted his father, the gun he was using couldn’t have killed anyone.”
“He fired a blank,” Lea concluded, relief flooding her face. “But what made Dalton think he’d murdered his father?”
“He saw his father fall to the ground, but that may have been caused by Albert being startled at the sound of the shot or the result of his drinking.”
“You mean when Dalton’s gun went off and Benson fell down, Albert wasn’t dead, he was only dead-drunk,” Scott said. “But if there were two cartridges, how do you explain there being only one gun at the scene, namely, mine?”
Tom offered an explanation, waving his hand in front of his face to ward off the vapors engulfing the room.
“The way I see it, someone was on their way to take care of Albert. When they arrived at Benson’s trailer, they heard Dalton arguing with his father. They saw the flash of smoke when the kid fired the blank.”
“They watched Dalton drop the gun and run off,” Lea said, putting the pieces together. “When they saw Albert moving around, they realized a perfect opportunity to accomplish their dastardly deed and blame it on his son.”
“All they had to do was pick up the gun Dalton dropped, reload it with live ammunition, walk over to Benson and shoot him,” Tom concluded. “The bullet the murderer used was real and fatal.”
“If there were two shooters, there should have been two sets of prints on the gun,” Lea reasoned.
“No such luck,” Tom informed her. “It would make things a whole lot easier to prove, but the gun was wiped clean.”
“Even before you got Lea’s call,” Scott guessed, “you’d figured out the murderer wasn’t Dalton.”
“When I reviewed the coroner’s report on the angle of the bullet,” Tom said, “it indicated the person firing the shot was standing over the victim.”
“Meaning the victim was already on the ground,” Lea said.
“The fatal bullet was fired after Dalton had fled the scene.”
“What are you going to do, Tom, are you going to arrest the boy?” Lea asked. “An attorney could claim Dalton had knowledge the gun contained blanks which would indicate his intent in waving the gun around was harmless.”
“I can charge him with brandishing a weapon, but that’s a misdemeanor. He’d serve minimum time in county jail.” Tom brushed aside further supposition. “I’m not interested in pursuing the kid. The only person I’m interested in now is the one who put a live round in the gun. Who else at the rodeo had reason to want Albert out of the way?”
Lea turned to Dalton. “You can help find that person. I need you to remember every detail from when you got hold of Scott’s gun until the gun went off and you ran.”
Dalton leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. “The only person I remember seeing was Mr. Hudson. He saw me with Scott’s pistol. I remember his exact words to me: ‘What the sam hill do you think you’re doing?’ I told him, ‘Get out of my way. I need to talk some sense in my dad’s head so he’ll sell the ranch.’”
“How did Mr. Hudson respond?” Lea asked.
“He told me I was the one who needed to get some sense in my head. He said it was the wrong way to go about changing my dad’s mind.”
“What were his exact words, do you remember?”
“He said ‘put down that peashooter and go home, kid.’ Like he was talking to a five-year-old. It made me feel like a dope.”
“Hudson could be your killer, Tom,” Lea said, her voice rising. “After telling Dalton to put the gun away, he followed the boy to make sure he wouldn’t get in trouble. That’s when he heard the argument and saw his chance to get rid of Albert. He reloaded the g
un with a live round, shot Benson, wiped the pistol, and threw it in the bushes.”
“I’ll buy that,” Tom agreed.
“Hold up a minute, Detective,” Scott interrupted. “I’d like nothing better than to help you find someone besides Dalton or me to pin this on, but it couldn’t be Cliff. He would have been at the steer-wrestling event at the time of the murder.”
“What makes you so sure he attended the event?”
“Because he’s a judge.”
“Sorry, Lea, that blows your theory to pieces,” Tom said. “I’ll confirm with the other judges, but it sounds like Hudson has an airtight alibi.”
“Maybe not!” Lea jumped up. “I have to go.”
She bowed to the chief and ran from the sweat lodge.
• • •
When Maddy got the call from her sister, she could hear the excitement in Lea’s voice. “When we were at the rodeo, you mentioned one of your customers was a judge for the cook-off.”
“That’s right.”
“I want you to call her for me.”
“You want to be a judge next year?” Maddy asked, surprised.
“No, but I need some information. I’ll tell you what I want you to find out.”
“What’s this all about?” Maddy asked.
“We may be able to get your cowboy off after all.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The morning of the sting arrived, and Tom was more than ready for it. He downed two cups of coffee to compensate for a sleepless night. His excitement over the possibility of capturing the Kingpin was enhanced by his anxiety over learning the identity of the mole.
According to the plan, each officer had been given a different address where the witness was being held. Pacing back and forth, Tom watched the surveillance cameras, one focused on each of the buildings. Since the department only had three safe houses, he had assigned the apartment where Amber had been living to the fourth officer suspected of being the mole.
He felt as if he’d jump out of his skin. He couldn’t set aside a bad feeling about what was happening. His apprehension got worse when Pat brought his attention to movement on one of the screens.
“Lieutenant, you’ve got to see this,” she said, pointing.
Tom’s misgivings about using Amber’s apartment were realized when they watched Amber enter the back entrance to the building where she lived.
“What the blazes!” he swore, cracking his knee on the table.
He grabbed his jacket and walked briskly from the room, yelling over his shoulder. “Stay with the cameras, Pat. I’m going to get her out of there. I can’t use the back door without a key, so I’ll have to go in the front.”
• • •
Speeding toward the building, he punched a number into his phone.
“Lea, what the devil is Amber doing at her apartment?”
There was silence before Lea responded.
“I have no idea. I was planning to visit her later, but I haven’t talked to her today.”
“Did you tell her she could return to her apartment?” Tom asked. His voice was harsh.
“Of course not. She mentioned something about retrieving her datebook, but I made it clear how dangerous that would be.”
“Then she’s either stupid,” Tom shot back, “or shrewd enough to think she can use the book to blackmail her former customers.”
“I swear, Tom, I didn’t know.”
“All right, I’ll go pick her up. If this blows our trap, she’ll have plenty to answer for.”
He disconnected the call before waiting for a response.
• • •
Tom walked over to the stake-out car parked on the street in front of the apartment building and leaned in the open window. “Something’s come up. I’m taking the witness to headquarters,” he informed the officer. “Wait here until we get back.”
Tom ran up the stairs two at a time. Hurrying down the hall to Amber’s apartment, he found the door open. He entered cautiously, closing the door without making a sound.
He cast his eyes over the well-kept interior. From what she had told Lea, most of her appointments took place in motel rooms. Only her best customers were allowed inside her apartment.
Although the minimal amount of furniture was tasteful, the living room appeared to be little more than an entry to the bedroom, not a place where much living transpired.
He rapped on the door and called out. “Amber, you here? It’s Detective Elliot.”
The young woman appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. “Hey, copper. What are you doing here?”
Her attitude matched her sassy attire: cutoff shorts and a sexy see-through blouse.
“If you’re serious about changing your line of work like you told Lea, you might consider changing your apparel as well,” he said, giving her a once-over.
“You don’t like?” she teased, adopting an exaggerated modeling pose.
“It draws more attention to your physique than your IQ,” Tom said. “What are you doing anyway? You know you aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Chill out. I came to pick up a few things.”
“I thought Lea took you the stuff you needed.”
“I missed my crocs.” She giggled, holding up a pair of stuffed crocodile slippers. “They keep my toes warm at night.”
“C’mon,” he said, motioning with his hand. His patience was running thin. “Let’s go.”
She dropped the slippers into a large shoulder bag but not quickly enough for Tom to miss seeing the black book she slipped into the bag first.
“Wait, I hear someone coming.” He pulled out his gun as Amber backed into the bedroom.
When the front door opened a crack, Tom jerked the knob, planting his feet and pointing his gun directly at the face of the intruder.
“Hold on, Lieutenant,” the officer said. “It’s me.”
“What the devil! I told you to wait outside. You almost got your head blown off.”
Tom re-holstered his gun and called the girl. “No more stalling. Let’s get out of here.”
Amber had almost passed the officer when he grabbed her arm.
“Sorry, Tom. I can’t let you take her.”
• • •
In one swift movement, the policeman twisted Amber’s arm in back of her, turning her into a shield between him and his commanding officer. He pulled a gun and pointed it at her head.
“Hey, you’re hurting me,” Amber moaned.
“Are you crazy! What do you think you’re doing?” Tom asked. His realization of what was unfolding sent a shiver up his spine.
“I thought someone would be here to take care of her by now. Too bad you showed up to take her away, Lieutenant. You’re forcing me to take matters into my own hands.”
Tom reached for his holster by reflex. The officer waved his gun in the girl’s face. “Don’t make me do something I don’t want to do.”
Tom took a step back, spreading his arms at shoulder level. “Take it easy. No one needs to get hurt.”
“That’s better,” the officer said, pulling the gun away from the girl’s face.
“Mind if I sit a moment?” Tom asked. “This is a lot to take in.”
He sat down, stretched his arms across the back of the couch, and raised an ankle to his knee. He appeared to be a man having a casual conversation with a friend. “I’m sorry it’s you, buddy. We’ve been together a long time.”
“I’m sorry, too.” The other man lowered his weapon. A slight smile played across his face. “You know how things go. One day everything is great; the next, it’s all in the garbage. Pressure builds to a boiling point until you’ve got to find a way out.”
“You never talked to me about any problems you were having. We could have worked something out.”
“Not really,” the officer said. “I wasn’t where I wanted, or needed, to be. I began to realize I wasn’t going to get there being a cop.”
“Being a cop isn’t about reaching a position. It’s about
serving.”
“Yeah, that’s how it started, but I’ve decided it’s time to serve a new master, one willing to put my needs first.”
“The person you’re serving now is the worst kind of scum,” Tom said. “I never would have expected you to cross to the other side, especially to join the ranks of our nemesis.”
“You’re partly to blame,” the officer said. “If you would have backed off, I might not have ended up in this position.”
“What do you mean?” Tom asked.
“It was your pursuit that made the Kingpin feel he needed a mole at headquarters to stay on top of your investigation. He would have tapped other members of the team eventually. I was lucky enough to be the first one. I took him up on his extremely lucrative offer.”
“Blaming me for your own weakness might make you feel better, but I don’t know how you sleep at night knowing the officers you ride patrol with every day are willing to put their lives on the line for you.”
“I’ll admit I’ve had some sleepless nights, but they’ll disappear when I’m a million miles away from this place and all of you.”
“I hope you aren’t planning on being a cop wherever you’re going.”
“I’m not stupid. I knew when I got into this that my police career was over. It doesn’t mean I won’t have other opportunities to make big money.”
“I always took you for a smart guy. I can see how wrong I was if you’re buying whatever bull the Kingpin’s feeding you about any kind of a future. How do you know the gunman hasn’t been instructed to take you out when he takes out the witness?
“Now that you’ve exposed yourself, you’ve become a liability. You turned on us, he’ll expect you to turn on him. Believe me, the only future you have with the Kingpin is six feet under.”
“You got it wrong, Lieutenant. I am a smart guy, that’s why we’re waiting. When his gunman gets here, he’ll take out the girl as planned. When he finds you, he’ll take you out as well. That’s when I’ll take care of him.”
“You actually believe the Kingpin will let you get away with killing one of his henchmen?”
“I’ll be a hero in the Department: the officer who risked his own life to save his Lieutenant. I’ll be more valuable than ever to the Kingpin as a mole.
