by M. Z. Kelly
I put my gun away and bent down to her, remembering that she had been six when her sister Linda had been murdered. She was now nine, a pretty girl, with long brown hair.
“Amy, I’m Detective Sexton. Can you tell me what happened to your family?”
Blue eyes, with thick lashes, stared blankly at me. When she didn’t respond, I tried again, but got nothing back. Then I noticed she was rubbing her left wrist. I reached down and moved her hand away. I saw the same Z-91 label that had been written on the masks of her murdered family. It looked like the letter and numbers had been recently underlined as if to emphasize the markings.
I tried to meet the girl’s eyes, but she wouldn’t look at me. “Who did this to you?”
She didn’t answer. I tried again, still not getting anything back. I looked up as Charlie came out of the house and walked over to us.
“What gives?” Charlie said.
“I’m not sure. She’s not responsive, but the tattoo from before looks like it’s been recently underlined.”
Charlie’s brow tightened as he regarded the child for a moment. “I called it in. The army’s on the way.”
I knew “the army” would consist of other detectives, SID staff, and the coroner’s office, along with uniformed officers for perimeter control, not to mention the press.
“Let’s get her to our car,” I said, referencing the child. “She’s been through enough.”
I waited in the car with Amy as platoons of staff began arriving. I again tried talking to her, but she didn’t acknowledge me or answer my questions.
I recognized a uniformed officer named Jena Washington when she arrived on scene to assist. I went over and explained the situation, asking if she could stay with Amy while I debriefed the others.
“Glad to help,” Jena said, looking over at the girl. “My daughter’s a couple of years younger than her.” She exhaled. “I heard it’s a bad scene inside the house, and I’d just as soon not see it.”
While she waited in the car with Amy, I went back inside the residence. Charlie came over and said, “Kemp’s on the way.”
“Why is that?”
“Since he’s our LT, I had to put him in the loop.”
I was irritated, knowing that even though we’d uncovered a murder scene, Kemp wouldn’t be happy with us for leaving the office. I decided to make use of the time we had before he arrived.
“We need to try and locate the mother—Laura Bratton,” I said. “Let’s see if we can find anything in the home office with names and phone numbers of relatives or friends.”
“I’m on it,” he said, wandering off.
I then went over and talked to Kathy Maitland with SID. Her employees were setting up equipment and had begun photographing the horrific scene of the family gathered around the dinner table.
“Anything on the COD, so far?” I asked.
Maitland had the tired, overworked look of someone who put in too many hours in a job that took its toll. She was in her thirties, but looked much older, with unkempt brown hair. “My best guess is some kind of poison was used. There’s no apparent external injuries to any of the victims.”
“And the masks? You ever seen anything like this?”
She shook her head. “Someone was probably trying to send some kind of message, but I have no idea what it means.”
I looked over and saw my former partner, Leo Kingsley, coming through the door, along with Darby Hall. After Section One had been disbanded, Leo and Darby had been partnered and assigned to RHD, the Robbery Homicide Division, at Hollywood Station.
“Looks like someone was having a party,” Darby said, after surveying the scene. “And it didn’t end well.”
Darby Hall was in his late thirties. He was short and pudgy, with a big mouth; a royal pain in everyone’s ass, who lacked any sense of decorum or professionalism. The only good thing about my reassignment was that I no longer had to work with him.
Leo Kingsley was his opposite, a big African-American detective in his late fifties who cared as much about the job as anyone I’d ever met. He was tall and muscular, with a shaved head. We had only been partnered for a few months before my reassignment, but we’d become good friends.
“What do we know?” Leo asked me, ignoring his partner.
I filled him in, then told him about Amy Bratton and the tattoo. “She’s disoriented and not responding to questions. Charlie’s in the home office, trying to find a number for the mother.”
“Why did a couple of Cold Case grunts end up here?” Darby asked me. “You two out looking for a pencil sharpener?”
I took a breath, trying to keep my voice even. “I reviewed the case and thought some follow-up was needed. I left a message with the father...” I glanced over, seeing that SID had removed his mask. “...his name is Lee Bratton.”
“You think this ties in with the murder of the other daughter three years ago?” Leo asked.
“It would seem likely, but it’s pretty bizarre.”
“Let me examine the scene before you go any further,” a man with a deep voice said from behind me.
I looked over and saw that Earl Mumford, the deputy coroner had arrived, taking the place of my friend Brie Henner who usually worked cases out of Hollywood Station. Brie was suffering from breast cancer and was in a clinical drug trial that was leaving her too exhausted to work full time. Mumford was lazy, uncooperative, and almost as big a pain in the ass as Darby Hall—and those were his good qualities. I knew we’d get nothing worthwhile from him, so I walked away.
I found Charlie in the home office. “Find anything on the mother?”
My partner had his reading glasses on the end of his nose. “Not so far, but it looks like the husband was some kind of entertainment lawyer. He does some work for Luke Rogers.”
“Who?”
“The country western singer. Guitar Blues.”
“What?”
“It’s his latest song.”
“Oh.” I glanced around the messy office. “Let me know if you turn up anything.”
I went back into the living room and looked into the dining room, where I saw that Leo and Darby were still examining the murder scene, along with Mumford.
After a couple minutes, Leo came over to me, rubbing his jaw. “I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but this is about as crazy as it gets. Any thoughts?”
“It’s just a guess, but it looks to me like somebody’s been targeting the family for a number of years. Whoever did this probably killed the girl three years earlier and came back to finish off the family.”
“Why leave the daughter behind?”
“I think he’s sending some kind of message by underlining the tattoo on the girl’s wrist and the writing on the masks.” I sighed. “Maybe we’ll know something more if we can locate the mother.”
“Do you think whoever did this could have taken her?”
I met his dark eyes. “You’re thinking she might have been involved with someone who killed her family?”
“It’s possible. Not sure.”
“If that’s the case, she could have been taken her against her will.”
“And monkeys might be living on the moon,” Darby said, overhearing our conversation.
Leo ignored him, regarding me for a long moment. “You got a minute to take a walk?”
“Sure. I could use some air.”
We left the house and went into the front yard where I saw that barricades had been set up down the street. A crowd had gathered on the sidewalk, and a couple press vans were at the curb.
“Just wanted to give you an update on Pearl,” Leo said.
I looked up at him. “What’s going on?”
“I talked to his sister Christine last night. She said he’s out of the country.”
“Where is he?”
“She wasn’t sure because his call went to voice mail. The connection was bad, but she said she got snippets of the message. She’s not very technical, but she’s going to try and get some help forw
arding it to me.”
I massaged my brow, feeling a headache surfacing. “Did she have any idea what’s going on with him?”
“Christine thought his message had something to do with your adoptive father—John. She thinks Pearl found out something about those who were behind his murder.”
I glanced up the street and saw Lieutenant Kemp was heading down the sidewalk toward us. I looked back at Leo. “Let me know when you get the message. I’d like to hear it.” I cut my eyes back to Kemp. “What’s that saying about no good deed goes unpunished?”
A couple minutes later, Kemp proved the adage to be true. He took Charlie and me into the back yard. Our lieutenant was gray, as in having gray hair, gray eyes, and skin the color of a corpse. His personality matched his coloring, making him the perfect boss for my new assignment.
“What made you decide to do field work?” Kemp asked us.
“It was my idea,” I said. “When I read the murder book, I thought some things might have been missed in the original investigation into Linda Bratton’s murder, so I called the father and said we’d be coming by.”
“You should have checked with me first.” His gray eyes held on me. “The new case is being assigned to RHD, so you need to go back to the office.”
I was angry, but tried to stay in control. “That’s not right. We were instrumental in uncovering these murders. We deserve a shot at working the case.” I looked at Charlie for support, but saw that he had a Tootsie Roll in his mouth that he was working on.
“Sorry, but it’s out of our jurisdiction,” Kemp said.
“We’ll see about that,” I said, my anger no longer in control.
“What’s that supposed to...”
“We’ve got something,” Kathy Maitland said, coming over and interrupting the lieutenant. “You’re going to want to see this.”
We all went inside the residence, where I saw that one of the investigators had removed the grill from a heating vent in the dining room. He held up some kind of electronic device.
“There’s a camera and listening devices in every room,” Kathy said. “Somebody’s been watching every move the family has made, maybe for years.”
THREE
“Was there any mention of the place being bugged when the child was killed three years ago?” Leo asked me after learning about what SID had found.
“None. But it’s possible the investigators missed it.”
“Danvers and Reno caught the original case,” Charlie said, overhearing us, at the same time working on the candy stuck in his teeth. “There’s no telling what else they missed.”
“Is there any way to determine from the devices themselves who was watching and listening in on the family?” I asked Kathy.
“We’ll need to get CCU involved. If the signals are being transmitted by Wi-Fi, maybe the Computer Crimes Unit can trace the IP address that’s on the other end.”
Lieutenant Kemp had been listening in on the conversation, but not participating. I turned and nearly bumped into him when another SID investigator came down the hall with more cameras and listening devices.
“I’m heading back downtown,” Kemp said to me. “I suggest you and Winkler do the same.”
“We’ll need some time to finish debriefing everyone and write our reports,” I said, just to appease him. I had every intention of spending the rest of the day at the crime scene.
When Kemp was gone, Charlie came over and lamented our fate. “It’s too bad we can’t work this. It’s not every day you catch a case like this, and with us working together it would be like old times.”
“I’m going to talk to the chief in the morning and plead our case.”
He was still working on the candy grill as he said, “Miles?”
I nodded. “She’s acting chief now. We have some history.”
“So I’ve heard.” He wandered off before I could ask him what he meant.
I spent the better part of the afternoon assisting in processing the murder scene. As the day wore on, we still didn’t have any contact information for Laura Bratton. No cell phones had been found in the residence, and we could only assume the killer or killers had taken them.
We had no choice but to arrange for Child Protective Services to take custody of Amy until her mother could be located. It was a heartbreaking scene as Jena Washington and I assisted the social worker in removing the child. The little girl still seemed to be in shock, not responding to anything that was said to her.
After Amy was gone, I went back inside the residence, where the bodies were ready for transport.
“Can you give us your preliminary findings?” I asked Earl Mumford, even though I knew he probably wouldn’t be much help.
The deputy coroner regarded me, chewing on a toothpick. “All the victims are dead.”
I pushed down my anger. “Really? Maybe you should be a coroner. What’s the cause of death?”
“Don’t know.”
I raised my voice, drawing the attention of Leo and Darby. “What the hell do you know?”
“I know enough to keep my mouth shut when I don’t know something. Maybe you should do the same.”
I took a step closer to him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve seen how the reporters pick up details about the cases you work. Somebody’s talking and it’s unprofessional.”
I refused to give any credence to his idiotic remarks. “No, unprofessional is refusing to cooperate in a murder investigation by not offering your educated opinion on facts that are relevant to a case.”
“I’m not going to engage in idle speculation, unlike some people.” Mumford turned his back on me.
Leo came over to me as I was contemplating following the coroner and making him the fourth homicide victim of the day. He took my arm and led me away. “Let it go. We both know he’s just looking to cause trouble.”
I took a couple deep breaths when we were in another room. “He’s a worthless piece of shit.”
Leo smiled. “I’m already missing working with you.” He held on my eyes for a moment. “You and Charlie are going to need to write reports on what happened here. Maybe you want to stop by Hollywood Station to do that. It would also give you a chance to say hello to some of the staff.”
I brushed a hand through my wayward hair and glanced into the dining room, where Mumford was packing up his equipment. “Maybe you’re right. If I stay around here much longer, we’re going to need another body bag.”
***
Charlie and I got to Hollywood Station a little before three, after getting permission from Lieutenant Kemp to finish out the workday there. We found some empty workstations and settled in to write our reports. Charlie spent about ten minutes writing out his statement before telling me he was going to take a break. I saw him heading toward the breakroom, probably to look for leftovers, when I happened to see Mel Peters, a detective I’d worked with in the past, coming into the building.
After walking over and saying hello, Mel asked me why I was back at Hollywood Station.
“Just using the workspace to write up some details on a cold case that suddenly turned hot.” I took a couple minutes, giving her some details about our day.
She smiled after I’d filled her in, then said, “I have a feeling the Cold Case Unit will never be the same with you there.”
I then changed the subject, asking her for the latest on our former chief’s suspension.
“Got a few minutes to take a walk?” she asked.
We left the station and walked up the street. The day was warm and clear as she told me what Cynthia McFadden, the reporter who had broken the case against former chief Dunbar, had told her. “Three of Dunbar’s victims have already talked to the DA. Cynthia thinks there will be a decision regarding filing charges against him in the next couple of weeks.” We stopped, and she met my eyes. Mel was in her thirties, attractive, with dark hair and caramel-colored skin. “I’ve also decided to talk to the DA.”
“I�
��m proud of you. I know this can’t be easy.”
She sighed, and we moved on up the street. “It isn’t. Despite Dunbar being removed as chief, he still has his supporters with the department. There’s been some fallout.”
“What do you mean?”
We stopped again, and she looked at me. “There have been some comments, just things that third parties have said about Dunbar blaming me. I’ve also had some phone calls.”
“What kind of calls?”
“A couple of hang-up calls, telling me to back off and not talk to the DA.”
“Any idea who they’re coming from?”
She swept her dark hair off her forehead and shook her head. “Burner phones have been used. There’s no way to trace the calls.”
“Have you told the DA?”
“Yes, but there’s nothing they can do.”
I studied her for a long moment. “Are you concerned about your safety?”
It took her a long time to respond. “Dunbar isn’t somebody to take lightly. I don’t want to believe he would harm me, but I can’t rule it out.”
We spent another twenty minutes walking up the street and discussing what happened before returning to the station. I told Mel that I would be there for her if she needed support, and to keep me apprised of any threats or comments made to her. I didn’t think Dunbar would be dumb enough to do anything to get himself into further trouble, but I also knew he was someone who had a reputation for retaliation.
I spent the rest of my day finishing up my reports and told Charlie I would see him at the Cold Case Unit in the morning. I was about to leave the station when I got a call from Ross Adams. The Kern County detective and I had worked a case together recently, and he’d been injured in a knife attack by a killer known as the Slayer. After saying hello, I asked Ross how he was feeling.
“Good as new, except for a six-inch scar and lots of bragging rights. I think I’m ready for that payback.”
“Payback?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about agreeing to have lunch with me.”
I hadn’t forgotten. The truth was, I felt conflicted. I’d recently been involved with a man named Noah Fraser. Despite Noah pledging his love to me, I’d learned that he had been working for Harlan Ryland and Collin Russell. He’d also been engaged to Ryland’s granddaughter, Harlee, at the time we were together. Noah had ended up attacking me and nearly killing me, before some unknown subject, possibly Pearl Kramer, had shot and killed him, saving my life. Those circumstances had made it clear to me that I wasn’t ready for another relationship.
