Nodding slowly, he said, “Yeah…I want in.”
The others nodded and grinned, clearly glad to have an experienced investigator on their team. Their smiles dropped off at the sound of raised voices from the station lobby.
“You cannot just barge in and expect to—”
“Ms. Score, you know, as Mayor, I can go where I want!”
Mitch sighed heavily, joined by the others, as Corwin Banks came barreling into the workroom. “Corwin,” he greeted with little enthusiasm.
“I just heard that a dead body was found on the beach! Who the hell was it and why is there a dead body on the beach in Baytown?”
Lance watched the blustering mayor’s jowls, reddened and jiggling, as he ranted. He had been around Corwin a couple of times since moving into town, but this was the first time he saw him in action with the police.
“Yes, there was a body found. No, we don’t have an identification yet. Yes, we are actively pursuing identification and cause of death.”
“Cause of death?” Corwin said, stepping back slightly. “Please, tell me he died of natural causes. Some guy just dropped dead of a heart attack or something.”
“We don’t know anything for certain at this time, but we’re treating it as a suspicious death.” Mitch replied.
Lance noted Mitch avoided mentioning the evidence of the victim’s hands being restrained. Probably the best thing to do considering the odd purple shade of the mayor’s face.
Corwin opened and closed his mouth several times, blustering, “Sus…sus…suspicious?”
Another commotion sounded outside the room. “Wait—”
“Get out of my way!”
The town manager, Silas Mills, strode in as well, his scrawny chest puffed out as his narrow-eyed gaze shot around the room. “I just heard. What the hell is going on? We’ve got the Fall Oyster Fest coming up and the last thing we need is bodies dropping from the sky—”
Slamming his hand down on the table, Mitch stood, his patience snapping. “Enough. We are investigating…we have no answers now…we will keep you informed. But until then, you two can do a lot by keeping your mouths shut until we know more.”
Corwin nodded his head, his jowls shaking vigorously once again. Silas’ eyes, already narrowed, became slits as his gaze landed on Lance. “What is he doing here? Why the hell do you have an artist sitting in the police station’s workroom?”
“Because he’s working with us on this investigation and because he found the body.”
He was glad Mitch left out Jade’s name, figuring Silas would find a reason to hound her.
Rearing back, Silas’ sneer made his weasely face even more unattractive. “Him? Working on the case—”
“He’s a former decorated Army criminal investigator and worked Vice in Richland. So yeah, he’s been taken on as a part-time investigator under my jurisdiction, which is allowed by the town’s police code,” Mitch declared in a voice not to be questioned.
Corwin’s eyes lit with renewed interest as he stared at him. “Well, well, that’s all right, isn’t it? Yes, indeed, Mr. Greene, I had no idea. Good, good…this could be good for the town’s reputation to have someone of your caliber—”
“Out, out, out!” came a call from Mildred as she shook her hand at the intruders. “You’ve taken up too much of their valuable time as it is!” She marched into the workroom and grabbed Corwin and Silas by the sleeves, dragging them out with her.
As Corwin hustled out, Silas jerked his arm from her and sneered as he left the room, casting a final threat over his shoulder.
“Well, if he’s so good, then get this case solved before the Oyster Fest!”
The room sat in silence for a moment, before Lance turned to Mitch and asked, “When is the festival?”
“This weekend.”
“Damn, he must watch too much cop TV if he thinks murders get solved that fast.” He dropped his head for a moment before looking back up and saying, “I was going to ask if I can reconsider joining your department, but I think instead, I want to stay, just to shut those two fucks up.”
Laughter from the group eased the tension as he and Mitch left, the medical examiner’s office next on their agenda.
15
“He’s been dead for at least twelve to fifteen hours, gauging from the time I first saw him on the beach.”
Lance and Mitch both nodded as they stepped toward the body lying on the table.
“He was shot at close range. The bullet entered the forehead, obliterating that side of his head, then exited out that back. The angle indicates that the weapon was fired at a downward position. The bruising on the body suggests he took a beating before being shot. The bruising on his wrists and ankles suggest he was bound,” Dr. Warren continued. “He was definitely dead before entering the water.”
Looking at Lance, Mitch said, “We need Callan to give us his opinion on the coastal tides and directions to have an idea where he might have come from.”
He nodded quietly, as he stepped closer to the table. The body was bloated, but part of the face was visible. Dark grey hair, trimmed short. Taking out his phone, he snapped pictures of the tattoos on the upper arms before moving down to the legs. Another tattoo was on his lower leg.
“They look like Navy tattoos,” Mitch commented.
Nodding, he shifted his gaze from the corpse to Mitch. “I’d agree, but we should have Jason look at these photos. As a tattoo artist, who was also in the Navy, he’s our best bet.”
Thanking the doctor, he and Mitch walked outside. Turning to him, Mitch said, “Let me know what Jason says.”
With that, Mitch headed to his BPD vehicle, leaving Lance standing on the sidewalk. Sliding on his sunglasses, he realized the job was now in full swing and he was officially investigating. The familiar feeling of following a trail, putting the pieces of evidence together, slid through him and he smiled.
Lance walked to the town’s only garage, seeing the bay doors wide open and two vehicles being worked on. Calling out, he motioned to Jason as his head popped up from under the hood.
“Got a minute?”
Wiping his hands on an old rag, he came over, greeting him. “Sorry to keep you waiting, man. The noise sometimes keeps me from hearing who might be out here.”
With the grease gone, Jason shook his hand and they moved into the garage’s office.
“Got something for you to take a look at,” he began, then noticed Jason’s gaze shift to outside. “No, no. It’s not a car. It’s a tattoo.”
Jason had told them he learned the art of tattooing when he was a kid, but the Navy taught him the mechanical skills to work on engines. Loving both, he took over the closed garage when he came to town, but also bought the building next door to open a tattoo shop. With a full-time mechanic working with him in the garage, he was able to work part-time as an artist.
“Sure, whatcha need?”
Lance handed him a picture of a clearly dead man’s shoulder. “Can you identify this for me?”
“Have you joined the force? Think that’s great, Lance,” he said, as he carefully perused the photograph.
“We thought perhaps the victim had been in the Navy—”
“Nah,” he replied quickly. “If I had to give you my best opinion, I’d say he was in the Merchant Marines.” Looking up, he said, “But around here? I’m afraid that includes most of the people out on those ships in the bay.”
Back at the station, Callan listened as Lance and Mitch gave the doctor’s early medical report. He looked at Lance, repeating, “Navy?”
“I thought so, but Jason says he thinks its Merchant Marines.”
“Jesus, with the number of sailors on all the ships around here, that might be harder to narrow down,” Callan said, shaking his head.
“That’s just what Jason said.”
“The medical examiner is sending his fingerprints into the state,” Mitch informed them.
“If he came in on one of the ships out in the bay, he wouldn’t
have to have any ID,” Callan added. “But, then, he wouldn’t be able to leave the ship, either. The crews are barred by post September eleventh federal restrictions that prevent foreign seafarers without U.S. visas from getting shore leave on American soil.”
“So, they don’t go ashore at all?” Ginny asked.
“Before nine-eleven, an entire crew often was given a ‘crew visa’,” he explained, “but the concept of visas is that each individual is interviewed with a security check and, obviously, no one is doing that with a whole crew.”
Grant leaned his tall body back in his chair, his eyes pinned on Callan. “Is this a new policy, since terrorist threats have heightened security across the country?"
Callan shook his head. “Actually, suspicion of merchant sailors from foreign-flagged vessels has been around for a long time. During the Cold War, crew members from Russia and Eastern Bloc countries had to leave their ships before the vessels could even enter the Norfolk port. With the largest U.S. naval base, security was always high.”
“So, stuck on a ship, something happens and our victim is killed and ends up on our shore,” he summarized, wishing it had been anyone else other than Jade who found the body.
Ginny speculated, “And none of the ships have reported someone missing. Even if a crew member had shot him, someone would have missed him and reported it.”
“We need the full post-mortem to have any real evidence to go on,” Lance said, “but until then, I’d say we need to get hold of the ship employee lists that have been in the harbor for the past few days.” Standing, he nodded to the officers at the table. “Glad to be part of this, but right now, I’m heading over to check on Jade.”
Walking out of the workroom, he missed the knowing smiles of the others.
Arriving at Jade’s apartment, Lance realized he did not know how to get to her stairs without having her with him. Walking around to the back, he discovered an intercom buzzer pad. Pressing the button, he wiped his hand on his jeans, suddenly nervous, wondering how she would feel about him dropping by.
“Yes?”
“Uh, Jade? This is—”
“Lance? Oh, thank goodness! I was hoping you’d come by!”
Breathing a sigh of relief, he heard the outside door lock click and, with a turn of the knob, he was inside. Heading up the first set of stairs, he looked up as the rapid sound of soft footsteps came closer. Rounding the corner at the landing, Jade barely skidded to a stop before slamming into him.
His hands instinctively reached out, grabbing her upper arms. Steadying her, he searched her face, seeking the reason for her rush to meet him. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
Laughing, she shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. Sorry, I just was really hoping I’d have a chance to see you again.” As the blush stained her cheeks, she said, “Can you come up?”
“That’s where I was heading until you came crashing down,” he chuckled.
Her eyes twinkled and she turned and led him up the narrow staircase and into her apartment. Looking over her shoulder, she asked, “What can I get you to drink? I’ve got soda, water, tea, beer, wine—”
“Water’s good,” he replied, his eyes roaming over her face before shifting downward as she moved into the kitchen. A light blue tank top and jean capris replaced the outfit from this morning. He studied her face as she handed him the water. She was still pale, but other than the circles under her eyes, she appeared revived.
“Come on, let’s sit outside,” she said, leading him through the doors to the deck. Settling in, she took a sip of water. “I want to ask about today. What happened after you left me. I haven’t heard anything, so I was concerned.”
“I went back to the police station to meet with the team.” Her hand on his arm halted his words and she looked deeply into his eyes, her face a mask of concern.
“Oh, Lance, are you sure you had to do that? I know being around everyone isn’t something you really like.”
Her touch, as well as her concern, reached deep inside, warming the sliver of cold around his heart. Smiling as he covered her hand with his, he rubbed his thumb over her petal soft skin. “Yeah…it’s fine. It’s all good. I want to do this.”
She smiled her encouragement, nodding slightly.
“Don’t have much to tell you…uh…well, you’ll hear this soon enough, but he was shot before he went into the water.”
Jade’s eyes bugged out and she gasped, “Sh…shot? Like killed? He didn’t drown?” The idea that she had found a drowned body had been upsetting, especially since it looked like it took a beating on its way to the shore, but to think she had discovered someone who was murdered caused her breath to leave her lungs in a rush.
Grabbing her shoulders, Lance steadied her as he peered into her eyes. “You okay? I’m sorry. I know this is a shock.”
Leaning her head on his chest, his steady heartbeat calmed her. “I can’t believe it. It’s so awful.” Tilting her head back, she looked up. “Oh, Lance…just think how horrible it must have been if he knew it was going to happen.”
Keeping to himself that the victim’s hands had been tied, so he definitely knew what was going on, Lance pressed her head back against his chest. They stood, silent, for a few minutes, holding on to each other for strength.
“Are you going to keep up with the investigation?”
Her words, soft and gentle, moved through him. “Right now, I’m joining the Baytown Police Department on an advisory basis. Mitch and I talked about that as well. Then,” he shrugged, “I can see. They’ll have a position or part-time position for me…who knows.”
“I think they’d be lucky to have you,” she said, her eyes warm on him.
“Mitch has been a good friend. I was lost after the Army. Lost my direction. Lost my drive. Lost my will to give a fuck. But Baytown’s been good to me. It’s time I gave back.”
The silence that followed was comfortable and he realized it was nice to have someone to talk to or just be with. He kept his hand on hers, loving the feel of her touch on his arm.
Jade smiled, deciding he had shared all he wanted for the moment, and announced, “I went to see the girls today. My phone was ringing like crazy and, since Mitch has Tori staying at home for a few days, we met at their house.”
“News travels fast around here.”
“It’s both the curse and the blessing of a small town,” she laughed. “Grant told Gareth, so he could do some searching, and Gareth told Katelyn. She called Jillian, who immediately called Grant to see what was happening. And then, just to round out the group, Jillian called Belle.”
Shaking his head, Lance tried to remember what it was like to have a circle of supportive friends, then realized, if he were honest with himself, he had those friends in Baytown. Quiet for a moment, he allowed his mind to drift back to his military friends—
Shutting that thought down, he lifted his bottle of water with a shaky hand, hoping she did not notice. Glancing over, her eyes were on him, a thoughtful expression on her face but, to his great relief, she did not ask him anything.
Jade knew he had just sent his thoughts down a road that he did not want to travel. Wisely, she said nothing, instead taking another sip before turning her attention back to the lowering sun over the bay. “It’s always so pretty, isn’t it? Whether sunny, cloudy, summer or winter…the sunset is always a special time. It reminds me of…” her voice trailed off.
“Reminds you of what?” he prodded.
Shrugging, she said, “It’s silly, but it reminds me that every day will end. No matter how horrible the day might have been, when the sun paints the sky at the end of the day, I know there will be a tomorrow. A new day. A new chance to make changes. To make it a good day.”
Her words washed over him and Lance closed his eyes for a moment, letting the evening sun warm his face. A new chance to make changes. Opening them, he met her smile and reached out, linking fingers with her as they watched the sun slide into the horizon.
A few days l
ater, Jade noticed Lance hesitate slightly as they alighted from his vehicle and faced the large crowd at the open, grassy field near the Sunset View Restaurant, host of the town’s Fall Oyster Fest. Sliding up to him, she wrapped her arm around his waist and said, “We don’t have to go, you know.”
Casting a smile down at her, he nodded. “I know we don’t have to, but I want to. This is the first chance I have to actually step into a large group like this since I’ve been here. Mitch didn’t want me to work tonight since I’m just part-time, so I can just try to take it in.” Giving her waist a squeeze in return, he added, “And, this is my first public appearance to be seen with my beautiful date.”
Laughing, she replied, “Oh, I like that reason.”
Taking a deep breath, he moved them forward toward the gathering. A large tent had been erected on the grounds, filled with tables and chairs underneath. Smoke billowed from steaming pots frying oysters and fish, and barbeque smokers were filled with pork and chicken. Another table was laden with corn on the cob and big bowls of salad. Yet another table held cakes and pies, all donated by the local churches.
The huge crowd was milling about, plates in hand, as they moved between the different food stations. Lance watched the moving masses and shook his head. “How do you even know where to go in a madhouse like this?”
“Follow me,” Jade encouraged. “I’m a pro at making my way through chaos. I work at an elementary school, remember?” Taking his hand, she led him to the nearest pile of heavy paper plates, snagging one for each of them. With her leading the way, they made it to the fish and oyster fry station, filling their plates with the seafood.
Admiring her ability to remain calm and focused in the middle of mayhem, he stayed close to her as they headed to the barbeque. Allowing his plate to continue to be piled upon, they darted to each station until no more food could be held.
Picking Up the Pieces Page 11
