“I know.”
“Fuck!” Zerr jumped to his feet knocking his chair to the floor. “It’s the photos, isn’t it? I want to see them.”
Brad shook his head. “No.”
“That wasn’t a fucking question. Give me the photos.”
“I heard you. I said no. Sit … down.”
“Fuck that.” He leaned on the table and glared at Brad. Zerr’s jaw clenched, the veins in his temples pounded, and his face turned scarlet. His breath came in short huffs.
“Both of you, go home,” Brad said. “Griffin and I will handle this. As of now, both of you are off the case. Is that clear?”
They were silent for a moment, then Zerr stomped out of the room, slamming the door.
“You need to stay with him,” Brad said.
Steele nodded, then paused in the doorway. “The pictures. She suffered, didn’t she?”
Brad ignored the question. “Keep him away from radio and TV, and especially away from work.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Griffin entered the boardroom after Zerr and Steele left. “I talked to Deputy Chief Archer. He’s ordered the afternoon shift in early and he’ll keep day shift as long as we need. All K9 officers are coming in to help with the searches.”
“Thank you,” Brad said. “I sent Zerr home with Steele.”
“How’d he take it?”
“About as you’d expect. We need to upgrade the protection on Blighe. Double the protection and have K9 there at all times.”
Griffin nodded. “What about your place?”
“I’ve been sending the uniformed cops home when I get there. I’ll keep them 24/7.”
“What about K9 at your place?”
“Lobo is there. He’ll shred anyone who comes into the house.”
“What’s our next step?”
Brad slid the note across. “It says we’ll find her where she belongs. The trash.”
Griffin studied the note. “Well, there are lots of possibilities. Dumpsters come to mind.”
Brad nodded. “Yeah, I thought of that.”
“There’re thousands of dumpsters in the city. Even if we only look in the ones in the southeast, that’s still, I don’t know, twenty-five thousand. If we used every cop on the job it might take weeks.”
“Wolfe’s pointing us at something specific. In the trash where she belongs.”
“I don’t know,” Griffin said. “Is there some special meaning in the word trash?”
“Like take out the trash or toss out the trash.”
Griffin nodded. “What do you do with trash?”
“Throw it in the garbage can,” Brad said. “Or just throw it away.”
“We’re going in circles.”
“Yeah.”
“But if you throw your stuff in the trash, it goes in the garbage can. Garbage cans get picked up and go to the dump.”
“Forest Lawn dump in the southeast,” Brad said.
“Holy shit,” Griffin said. “We’ve got to stop the city from dumping there.”
“At all the city dumps.”
“I’ll let Archer know and arrange briefings for everyone on duty or called in.” Griffin raced out the door.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Saturday Evening
Darkness fell and the search continued into the night and early morning. Generators with light stands were pulled into the landfill to illuminate the trash.
Brad looked over at the ambulance on standby. They weren’t going to need the paramedics. He slowly walked to his Firebird and opened the back door. Lobo lifted his head from the bed he was lying on. Brad had used Lobo for the search for the better part of the day. When he realized the dog was exhausted, Brad took him back to the car, gave him some food and water, and let him sleep.
Brad tried to nap, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw the photos. He’d never seen anything like them. The terror in Tina’s eyes. The cuts, the bruises, the bleeding. The worst were the sex acts. Brad’s eyes popped open. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to close his eyes again.
An hour later he gave up on sleep and attached the harness to Lobo. They headed back to the landfill. Brad reached into his pocket and pulled out an evidence bag containing one of Tina’s shirts he took from her apartment. Lobo tugged at the leash and anxiously sniffed the shirt. He was ready to go to work.
Brad pulled a doctor’s mask over his face. It didn’t eliminate the odors, but at least it filtered them a bit. Lobo didn’t mind the smells.
During the day they created a grid search pattern based on information from sanitation on where the trash had been dumped yesterday. That was their best guess as to when she’d died. If Tina’s body had been thrown in the trash yesterday, then dumped here, they might find her. It was all guessing though. Maybe Wolfe had dumped her here himself. If that was the case, she could be anywhere. Maybe she wasn’t here at all.
Brad’s shoulders were tight, and his jaw ached from being clenched for the better part of the day. Blood pounded at his temples.
Two other K9 cops and their dogs were searching as well. In over twelve hours of searching they’d found nothing.
Time dragged on and Brad willed his feet to keep moving. Lobo, full of energy from his nap, was tugging at the leash. He was doing what he liked best—working with Brad.
Brad’s chin bounced off his chest a few times. He willed his body to keep going. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name. The voice got louder. A flashlight shone in his eyes. “Shit.”
“Sorry,” Griffin said. “Dispatch got a call from a trucker a few miles from here. He said he’d pulled into a truck stop to catch a few hours of shuteye. As he walked to the restroom, he saw a rolled-up carpet and a wallet by the door. He kicked the carpet and it unrolled a few feet. That’s when he saw the body.”
Brad was instantly alert. “What?”
“Come on,” Griffin said. “He’s waiting for us.”
Cops stood silent as Brad approached. He shone his flashlight where an officer was pointing. He saw a hand, dropped to his knees next to the carpet.
An arm and shoulder were exposed. Brad repositioned himself and unrolled the carpet further. There were no clothes on the body. The face was unrecognizable, framed by blonde hair. His gut rolled and he fought back the urge to vomit. He was flooded with emotion—hate, rage, sadness, and failure. Tina, I’m so sorry.
He stood and stepped back. “Get this area cordoned off and let Ident do their job.”
Griffin followed Brad back to his truck. He stared into the night at the stars and followed a jet as it trailed across the sky. He thought about the night Curtis died. They’d stopped outside a 7-Eleven. That night, too, he’d stared into the sky, watching a jet leaving the city.
He turned to the sound of squealing tires—Zerr and Steele. Zerr jumped out of the passenger seat and sprinted toward Brad.
“Where is she?” he asked.
Brad stepped in front of him. “It’s a crime scene, Charlie. There’s nothing you can do here.”
Zerr tried to push past Brad, who blocked him.
“How the hell did you know we’re here?” Brad asked.
“It’s all over the radio,” Steele said. “Every radio station is saying a body was found here.”
“Shit,” Brad said.
“I need to see her.” Zerr’s voice trailed off. “I need to. I need to.”
Brad stood his ground. “No, Charlie. No, you don’t.”
“Why are you so cold about this? Why so emotionless. Don’t you care?”
Brad stared at Charlie. “You know that’s bullshit. You know I care. You know I care a lot. There’s one thing I can do: protect you. And that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Protect me! Where the hell was Devlin when he was with her? He was her partner. He should have protected her. He’s the one who got her killed.”
Zerr attempted to step around Brad, but he moved with Zerr. “No, Charlie. This isn’t on Devlin. This is on Wolfe. D
on’t forget that.”
“On Wolfe? Really? When you were assigning the protection details, did you assign one to Tina? No. No, you didn’t.”
“Tina refused protection,” Brad said.
“She didn’t want one so, that was it? You went along with her?”
Brad nodded. “At that time, we didn’t think Tina was a target. We were pretty sure it was Blighe. It’s easy to look back and second guess and say I messed up. But I can’t change that now.”
Zerr’s hostility lessened. His shoulders slumped and he stared at his feet. “Sorry, boss. I know it’s not on you. I should have protected her. I should have been there for her. It’s, well—”
Brad put his arm around Zerr’s shoulder and guided him back to the car. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m sorry, buddy. Steele’s going to drive you home and stay with you tonight. Take tomorrow off. Take the next couple days off. Take as much time as you need.”
Zerr nodded.
“Get some sleep. If anything comes up, I’ll let you know. I promise. If I have to keep looking over my shoulder to make sure you’re okay, that’s going to take me away from the task.”
“I want to be there.”
“You want to be where?”
“When you find him. I want to be there. I want to kill him.”
“There’s a long line of guys wanting to kill him, Charlie. Including me. If the situation is right, we’ll take the shot. It might be you. It might be with me. But one of us is going to take him down. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Steele guided Zerr into the passenger seat and then closed the door.
Brad watched them drive away. Wolfe would die, and it would be soon.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Sunday Morning
Brad pulled to the curb in front of his house, killed the ignition, and rested his head against the steering wheel. He needed to get out of the car, into the house, and then to bed. But that twenty feet seemed too far. The night had taken everything out of him.
Taking a big breath and leaning back in the seat, Brad closed his eyes. Mistake. He saw the arm sticking out of the carpet. The small rose tattoo on the left shoulder. At that moment he knew it was Tina. Her naked body covered in bruises, face unrecognizable. He wanted to open his eyes. He couldn’t. The images took hold. They ran over and over. With a gasp, he opened his eyes.
Brad opened the car door and stumbled to the front of the house. He fumbled with the key and finally slid it into the lock and opened the door. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, resetting the alarm.
Lobo came bounding over, running circles around Brad’s legs. Lobo sat and stared. Brad slid down the wall onto the floor. Lobo leaned close. Brad grabbed him in a tight hug.
He’d thought all his energy was gone, but here, sitting on the floor with Lobo, the last morsel escaped. He had nothing. He felt empty. Nothing in his head. Nothing in his heart. Just an incredible weight on his shoulders.
He looked toward a noise on the stairs. Maggie. She was wrapping a housecoat around her. “I thought I heard you come in.”
“Sorry. I tried to be quiet.”
“Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer.
She stepped closer. “Are you okay?”
Brad looked up, like he was seeing her for the first time. “No, I’m not.”
Maggie sat next to him on the floor. “What happened?”
Brad shook his head.
“Brad, please talk to me. What happened?”
He put his head back against the wall—and the tears flowed. A steady stream at first and then a torrent. Tears he’d held inside for years, now came out in a flood with chest-racking sobs. Lobo looked up and whimpered.
Maggie slid over and pulled him close. “Oh my God, Brad. What happened?”
He leaned against her. The tears continued, the sobs became cries of anguish.
“Please tell me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help you. Please, tell me what happened.”
Brad sniffled back the snot and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Tina’s dead.”
“What?”
“We found her. She’d been raped and tortured. Probably for days.”
“Oh my God. Wolfe?”
Brad nodded.
Maggie held him close in silence.
Chapter Sixty
Monday Morning
Brad stepped into the reception area of the Medical Examiner’s Office. He showed his badge to the receptionist. “Davidson autopsy?”
“Suite 2.”
The door buzzed. He pulled it open and walked down the hall. As he approached Suite 2, the door opened and Sergeant Sturgeon came out.
“Did they start already?” Brad asked.
“Yup,” Sturgeon said. “They’re wrapping up.”
“What? You told me they’d be starting at nine.”
“They moved it up.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I needed to be here.”
“You don’t need to be here,” Sturgeon said. “I get it that you wanted to, but this is for the best. I can tell you what we found, but it’s better you weren’t here. Trust me.”
Sturgeon grabbed Brad’s arm and guided him to a quiet room used by family members of the deceased. They sat and were silent for a few moments. Brad hunched over, head in his hands. Sturgeon waited. Brad sat up and took a deep breath. “Okay, tell me.”
“When you found her, she’d been dead about twenty-four hours. Likely dumped there the night before.”
Sturgeon paused and stared at Brad. “Are you okay to continue?”
Brad nodded.
“There were ligature marks on her hands and legs. There were other marks on her wrists, probably from her handcuffs.”
“Ah, jeez.”
“She was raped and tortured, and then killed with a bullet to her head. We’ll check ballistics, but I’d bet it was her gun.”
“How was she tortured?”
“The details aren’t important.”
“The hell they aren’t!”
Sturgeon described the horrors Tina had endured at Wolfe’s hands. Brad leaned forward, head between his knees. Oh, God.
Sturgeon paused, chewed on his lip and exhaled deeply.
Brad sat upright. “What else?”
“A couple of things were different. Her hair was cut short and there were lacerations to her face and breasts.”
“That’s something new.”
“Yeah, I wondered about that,” Sturgeon said.
“It didn’t matter with the other victims. This was personal because it was Tina.” Brad stood and paced. “Jeez, Tina. I’m so sorry.” He placed his hands against the wall and rested his head against it. “Did she fight?”
“We found skin and blood under her fingernails. At some point she fought. Wolfe was three times her size. I doubt he let her fight for long. Might have happened when he was tying her to the bed.”
“Anything else?”
“Nothing about the assaults and death. We found a receipt under her right arm. It might be garbage, or it might have fallen out of Wolfe’s pocket. It’s for a convenience store not far from there.” Sturgeon handed Brad an evidence bag.
“Can I take this?”
“Not yet. I’ll take it back to the office and dust for prints. I can develop a photo if you want.”
“Sure.” Brad pulled out his notebook, wrote down the information on the receipt, then looked up. “That it?”
“That’s all I have for now.”
“Call me the second you get anything else.”
“I should have the fingerprints and ballistics done by early afternoon.”
Chapter Sixty-One
Tuesday Morning
The next morning Brad and Griffin picked up the photo of the receipt from Sturgeon. He confirmed that Tina was murdered with her gun. He only found partial prints from the receipt. A probable match to Wolfe and an unknown second set.
They drove to the southeast in
silence. Brad parked outside the store and led the way to the counter where the clerk stood reading a newspaper. Without looking up, he said, “What do you want?”
“I want you to look at me,” Griffin said. The clerk exhaled loudly and took his time. When he looked up, he was staring at Griffin’s badge.
“Do I have your attention now?” Griffin asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
Griffin showed the clerk the picture of the receipt. “Is this from your store?”
The clerk peered at the photo. “It’s not very clear, but yeah, I think it’s ours.”
“It’s dated, four days ago. Were you working then?”
“I’m always working.”
Griffin slid a photo of Jeter Wolfe across the counter. “Does this guy look familiar?”
“Nope.” He slipped the photo back to Griffin.
Griffin pushed it back. “Why don’t you take a good look this time.”
The clerk stared at the photo. “Nope.”
He pushed the photo toward Griffin, then pulled it back. “Is he a big guy? Like Andre the Giant?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but bigger than any of us.”
“I ain’t seen a guy with long hair and a beard, but there’s a big bald guy and he’s clean-shaven.”
“What?” Brad asked.
“Yeah. He started coming here a couple of weeks ago. July 1st holiday, I think. He comes in almost every day.”
“What does he buy?” Brad asked.
“Cigarettes. Junk food. Soda, chips, and porn magazines.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah. No, wait, about a week ago he bought four packs of Polaroid film. I thought that was a lot. With him buying porn mags I figured he was into something kinky. When he left I went out for a smoke. He walked down the sidewalk and then up to a house.”
“Do you know which house?”
“Not sure. One of the last two on the left, I think.”
“Do you know the people who live in those houses?”
“No. This whole block was bought by a developer. All the houses will be torn down. They’re building a big condo complex.”
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