Mounting Evidence

by Karis Walsh

  “No one reported shots fired? No witnesses to any of this?”

  “Nope. All the businesses were closed, and both the victim and the killer seemed to have used the back door from the alley. We’re canvassing, but there weren’t any 9-1-1 calls. Someone might turn up, but I think our best bet is helping her remember more details about what happened. She’s in shock right now, so when she said she knew you I hoped a familiar person might be able to help.”

  “I’m glad you called me, Bryan.” Abby thought for a moment before she formed her next question. “She’s not considered a suspect in any way, is she?”

  “Not at this time,” Carter said. Noncommittal, like any detective would be. Abby had wanted him to say no with more certainty, but this was the best she could have expected from him, this early in the investigation.

  “We found her blood on her steps and in the trunk of his car. She was bound with zip ties, and the marks on her wrists and ankles are consistent with the time frame she gave us. Blood spatter indicates she was sitting in the same position when he was shot and when we found her this morning. We’re going to check on the wetland story and find out if anyone witnessed their altercation at the fair, but it’s clear she wasn’t the killer. Was she involved somehow?” Carter shrugged. “We don’t know yet. Milford was shot, but she was left alone. Maybe the killer knew her and didn’t want her harmed, or maybe the two events are completely separate.”

  Someone coincidentally came to shoot Tad Milford on the same night he had a kidnapping victim in his office? Abby didn’t believe in coincidences, and she had a feeling Carter didn’t either. She let the questions raised by the event flit around her mind, diluting the pure rage she felt at the picture of Kira bound and gagged as she sat in the hard metal chair for hours. Covered in Milford’s blood. Abby swallowed and took a step back. She had heard enough. She had to get to Kira.

  “Thanks for calling me in on this. Keep me informed of your progress, and I’ll find out if I can get any more information from her.” She took a few steps, and then turned back to face him. “Oh, and come get me when Julie gets here. It might be easier on her if I talk to her before she sees her mom. Give her an idea of what to expect so she isn’t scared.”

  Abby resisted the urge to run across the room, instead slowing her steps as she approached Kira. Kira watched her with a haunted look, seeming to want Abby there and to be afraid of her at the same time. Abby had seen it before, had dealt with victims before. She had often cared about them, hated what had happened to them, but she had never felt such a powerful urge for justice. She wanted to bring Tad back from the dead and shoot him herself. The depth of her involvement in this case—even though she’d only met Kira a week ago—frightened her. She’d been too intrigued after meeting Kira, too captivated by her during their lunch, and had spent far too much time thinking about her and hoping to spot her in the fair crowds. Abby felt connected to Kira, but she really wasn’t—at least not by any easily definable relationship.

  Since the moment Abby had decided to become a cop, she’d been driven by a fierce need to protect and to right wrongs, but she wasn’t prepared for the intensity of her feelings now. She made a decision as she walked across the office. She’d help Kira through this day, as she faced the ordeals to come and as the numbing effect of shock wore off. She’d help Julie cope with the sight of her mother’s bruised face and the swollen, crimson divots where the restraints had been. But then she’d back away and let the detectives handle the case. She couldn’t get involved.

  She hesitated for a moment when she was close to Kira. She was only trying to protect herself, wasn’t she? She had spent her career working to undo the shame her grandfather had caused. She had never let her feelings about his misdeeds show, had never discussed the old cases she studied with anyone. What was the point? He was dead and buried. She’d spend her life trying to atone in private for his sins. She bore his guilt and she would fix what she could. Judge, jury, hangman, and hanged. She had taken on all the jobs. Now she was faced with a case involving Tad Milford and Kira. Her brother must be connected somehow—and he was very much alive and wearing a badge. If she started investigating this case, the trail might lead directly to her family’s doorstep. She wasn’t prepared for that. She had to stay away.

  She knelt by Kira’s chair. “Hi,” she said. She reached out and took one of Kira’s hands, gently massaging her cold fingers and palm. The touch shocked her system as she felt the physical, tangible proof of Kira’s horrific night. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

  Kira pulled her hand away and tucked it under the blanket. “I’m cold,” she said.

  “Can you bring us a couple more blankets?” Abby called to one of the officers standing nearby, who nodded and walked quickly away. Abby looked at Kira again. “Kira, we need your help.”

  “I already told the detective everything I remember. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, but…”

  She stopped talking and squeezed her eyes shut. Abby saw her swallow with a convulsive gulp and she wished more than anything that she could just make the night disappear from Kira’s memory, rather than needing to make it more clear in her mind.

  “I…I understand. I know it’s hard to relive what happened, but if you could just go over it again with me, maybe I can help you uncover something you haven’t recalled yet. Sometimes, when you’re in the middle of something as traumatic as last night, there are small details that get overshadowed by the more pressing survival needs. You never know what could help us catch a killer.”

  Kira nodded, her eyes still shut. Abby mouthed a thank-you to the officer who returned with a stack of blankets, and then she draped them over Kira’s lap and shoulders, rubbing her upper arms to bring her more warmth. Kira opened her eyes at the touch.

  “Tell me everything,” Abby said, “starting from the moment he approached you at the fair.”

  “He…he was standing by Nirvana’s stall when we got back to it after talking to you on Friday. I didn’t recognize him at first, we had never actually met…but I was nervous around him from the start. Too close…he stood too close. And the smell. Of his aftershave. Why didn’t I pay more attention to how I felt? Why did I let this happen?”

  Abby cupped her fingers under Kira’s chin. “Look at me, Kira. You did not let this happen. He hurt you, and it’s not your fault at all.” Her voice sounded harsh, but she had to make Kira understand what she was saying. Abby had been blaming herself while she listened, asking similar questions to Kira’s. Why hadn’t she followed Julie and Kira down the aisle that day? She’d have been there when Tad confronted them. Maybe she’d have recognized the real potential for danger and could have kept this from happening. She was trying to convince herself, too, that Tad was the one at fault here. Not her or Kira.

  Kira nodded and swallowed again. “Okay. He told me I’d better drop my efforts to stop him from building…”

  Abby gave Kira’s words half of her attention. The rest of it focused on the red, chafed rectangle over Kira’s mouth, where the duct tape had been. She wanted to wipe the residual marks away, clean Kira of any reminders of Tad’s brutality, kiss away the pain. Her reaction was uncomfortable, but as Kira continued her story, Abby forgot her own unprofessional urges and listened more intently. She asked a question now and again but mainly let the narrative unfold in its own way. Kira’s memories were disjointed and chaotic—no surprise to Abby, given the night she’d been through. The blindfold had separated Kira from her habitual way of experiencing her world and consolidating the input from her other senses, so the night was a series of disconnected sounds and smells and sensations. Abby had known this to happen with other people who were deprived of a sense during a traumatic event. What Abby hadn’t expected was Kira’s remarkable recall of her experience.

  Abby’s sense of wonder grew as Kira talked—haltingly, but with full command of her memories. She was braver and stronger than Abby would have guessed. She had thought through her actions, had paid fu
ll attention to events that could have rendered her catatonic. Abby’s admiration for Kira was the only thing keeping her from losing herself in anger over what had happened. The descriptions Kira gave of her ride in the trunk and of Tad’s dominance over her would haunt Abby for a long time.

  Abby had been ready to walk away after her talk with Kira. She had promised Carter she’d try to get more information and had told herself she’d offer a short bout of compassion. Then she’d drop her involvement in the case to avoid any conflict of interest given her attraction to Kira and to dissociate herself from any connection if it was discovered that her brother had a hand in this.

  Abby was certain Rick was involved somehow. But she couldn’t act the coward now, in the face of Kira’s bravery. She’d stay on the case long enough to find out the whole story behind Kira’s kidnapping, and to be absolutely certain that she and Julie would be safe from now on—even if it meant she was the one to finally expose her family to the public. If Rick had played any part in this, he’d have to pay, like any dirty criminal. Brother or not.

  Chapter Nine

  Kira pulled one of the blankets tighter around her shoulders and winced as the fabric brushed the sensitive, swollen skin of her wrist. She had dozed off occasionally during the seemingly endless night, and every time she dropped to sleep either her wrists or ankles would sag against the cruel zip ties. The only way she had been able to keep the pain from them at bay was to stay awake and keep her hands and feet pressed close together. Her body had rebelled against both her physical soreness and her frantically active mind, so she had spent hours in a cycle of drifting to sleep, relaxing enough to put pressure on her restraints, and jerking awake again. Over and over. By the time the police had arrived to release her, she was nearly delirious from lack of sleep. Exhausted, but agitated. She felt like crawling out of her skin.

  Abby reached up and adjusted Kira’s blanket for her. The small act touched Kira, even as she fought against being protected, against needing anyone to take care of her. The morning had been a gruesome one. The cops had uncovered her head and untaped her chapped mouth, but they had needed to take pictures of the crime scene. They had seemed to be trying to hurry, but the minutes had stretched long for Kira. She wanted to get out of the chair, to stretch, to get the hell away from the stiff body lying next to her. She thought she should feel some compassion for Tad Milford, or even a sense of relief that he was dead. All she had been able to think, though, was that he had bloodstains all over his pressed suit. She had sat there while the detectives snapped photo after photo, just wondering how one would remove so much blood from such expensive fabric.

  She couldn’t get warm. The blankets had slowed her violent shivering, but she still felt chills running up her spine and sharp frissons exploding in her stomach and chest. Abby took her hand again, holding it between her own and blowing warm breath on Kira’s icy skin. It felt nice. It was comforting to have another human being connect with her, but in a gentle way. Kira felt too bruised to be touched with firmness.

  Abby was just sitting quietly with her now. Waiting. Kira had told her story to the detective and had repeated it for Abby. She had tried to observe even the tiniest clues, but they needed more. What could she say? Tad had done something criminal, but at least she could understand his reasons. Egomania, greed, a hunger for power. But the unknown person who had shot him and left her there? Kira couldn’t grasp the meaning of that. It didn’t make sense, and somehow it disturbed her almost as much as the pain Tad had inflicted.

  “Lieutenant?” The detective who had first interviewed Kira came over and whispered something to Abby.

  She squeezed Kira’s hand almost imperceptibly, and then let it go. “I’ll be right back,” she said. “If you need anything at all, ask one of the officers and they’ll come get me. Are you okay if I go?”

  Of course, Kira wanted to say. Don’t be ridiculous—I don’t need you. Instead, she gave a quick nod. She hated relying on someone, but she had asked the detective to call Abby. She had said they were friends, but in reality Abby’s was the only name she could call to mind. There had been cops everywhere. They were examining every inch of the office space, and every inch of her own person. They had taken pictures and samples of Tad’s blood before they had finally allowed her to wash it off as best she could with a handful of paper towels. She hadn’t wanted Abby to see her this vulnerable, this weak, but she had to face the truth. She wasn’t strong enough to resist the need to see a familiar face: Abby, who was treating her with such gentleness, as if she understood. Who had been able to come to an active crime scene and be treated with deference as she cared for Kira.

  Kira winced as she pressed on her wrists and tried to raise herself higher in the desk chair. Her muscles protested and remained flaccid, but she managed to sit a few inches straighter. She saw Abby just outside the office door, kneeling down like she had been when she was next to Kira. Abby shifted a bit, and Kira saw Julie standing next to her. Julie. Kira wanted to get up and run to her daughter—no matter how unwilling her muscles—but she stayed where she was. In this one instance, she would let Abby take control. Julie needed someone with Abby’s experience to explain what had happened, to prepare her for the wounds she’d see on Kira’s face and limbs.

  She watched Abby put her arm around Julie’s shoulders while she talked. Kira had no idea what she was saying, but she appreciated the kindness she saw in Abby. She had noticed it Friday, too, when Abby had held Nirvana’s head in her arms and stroked her neck, and again last night when she had calmed her gray police horse. A sense of calmness, straightforwardness. She might not personally like Abby’s assertive nature, or want to have someone like that in her life again, but during this crisis Abby was exactly what she and Julie needed.

  The two finally walked over to where Kira was sitting, still wrapped in her thick blankets. She wanted to hide her wrists, but she couldn’t resist holding her arms out to Julie.

  “Mama,” Julie whispered, using the age-old name for her mother in a barely audible whisper. She burrowed close, but gently. Kira figured Abby had warned her about the bruises and sores. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m going to be fine, honey,” Kira said, stroking Julie’s hair.

  Julie pulled back and looked at her mother. She carefully touched the raw skin around Kira’s mouth and the furrow on her wrist. “Abby told me what happened. No one else would, but she did. It was scary not to know.”

  Kira nodded at Abby, who was standing a few feet away and watching the interchange. Again, she was seeing Abby’s apparent penchant for honesty. She didn’t understand how one Hargrove could have a full dose of integrity while the other had very little. Was the Abby she was witnessing the real person? Or was she putting on a show of openness to hide her true nature? Kira had been exposed to the confusion of duplicity in her past relationship. Moments of brutal honesty mingled with blatant lies until she hadn’t known what to believe. The intention then had been to keep her off guard, uncertain and insecure. What were Abby’s motives? “She was right to tell you. I know Angie’s parents were trying to protect you, but it’s worse not to know what’s going on.”

  “I should have been with you last night instead of staying at Angie’s. I can’t believe we were playing computer games while you were being—”

  “No,” Kira said.

  “Don’t,” Abby said at the same time. She crossed the distance between them in two long steps and turned Julie to face her. “A few minutes ago, your mom was saying it was her fault because she walked onto your front porch and was assaulted. Do you think she’s to blame for this?”

  Julie shook her head. “No, of course not.”

  “Then don’t blame yourself, either. Please.”

  Kira was silent, thankful that Abby was helping Julie see that she shouldn’t feel guilty about not being with her. Kira needed a few moments before she was able to talk again. All she could think about was what might have happened if Julie had been with her last night. The image
s in her imagination made her cringe inside.

  “I hate that he did this to you,” Julie said. She stood close to Kira’s chair.

  “So do I,” Kira admitted. He had paid for it, but even though he was dead, the memories of her abduction would never go away. She’d learn to live with them, but they were part of her now.

  “Angie’s going to take care of Nirvana for me today, so I can take care of you. Abby said she’d drive us home.”

  Kira looked from Julie to Abby. They were willing to let her rest, to take care of her. The thought was tempting, but she didn’t want Tad to have destroyed her. “Abby, can you take us to the fair instead? We can still make it for Julie’s hunt seat equitation class. Or do I have to stay here any longer?”

  Abby watched her in silence for a moment. Kira had a feeling she wanted to argue, to urge Kira to go home and sleep. But she must have understood what Kira was going through. Being at home, quiet, with too much time to think? Not helpful. Going to the fair and letting the busy atmosphere and Julie’s competition fill her mind for a few hours would give her more rest from her anxiety than she’d find in bed.

  “I’ll check with Detective Carter, but I’m sure it’ll be okay for you to go back to Puyallup. He’ll be able to contact you through me if they have more questions. We can stop by your house for you to shower and change first.”

  “Are you saying you don’t like my shirt?” Kira asked. She looked down at her blood-spattered and torn T-shirt. Abby and Julie laughed.

  “You look great, but perhaps it’s too formal for the casual atmosphere of the fair.” Abby held out her arm and Kira used it to pull herself out of the chair. She hadn’t walked for a couple of hours and was still stiff from the long night. She worried her legs might give way and she’d collapse in front of Julie and everyone else, but Abby casually kept her arm as they walked to the office door.