Vendetta

by C. M. Sutter

  Eating downtown, are you?

  Warren passed the women as they climbed out of their car. He continued on then found an empty spot three buildings down from the Prius. He pulled in and parked. He still had a good visual of the ladies as they walked north to the only restaurant in that area—Tap and Tavern. He gave himself a good five minutes before he exited the car and walked to the restaurant. Warren entered the establishment, which was designed with a modern warehouse theme. He scanned the ten or so tables that lined the brick wall. Lunch patrons filled most of the space. He glanced at the bar and saw the two women. An empty seat was available on either side of them. He’d take the barstool nearest the psychic since she was one of the main targets, anyway.

  Warren was a decent-looking guy, even for a career criminal. Although his parents never paid him an ounce of attention as a child—they were too busy getting high—he had been blessed with good genes. His teeth were straight and white, and he had thick black hair and vibrant green eyes. His ability to put on the charm, along with his better-than-average looks, had helped him ease out of many sticky situations. That knack had been fine-tuned, and he had pulled it out of his bag of tricks many times in the past—especially with women. He used them for all they were worth, and he was sure he still had that ability.

  Warren raked his hair with his fingernails and slicked it behind his ears. He slipped on his black-framed nonprescription glasses. In the prison library, he’d once read a magazine article that said people who wore glasses appeared to be trustworthy and intelligent. He needed all the help he could get, especially with those tattoos visible on his hands. There was no way to hide them, and they gave a different kind of image.

  He approached the bar and stood next to Kate. “Excuse me, ladies. Is this seat taken?”

  Kate glanced over her right shoulder. A wide smile lit her face. “It is now.” She turned back toward Amber, but Warren wasn’t letting her go quite that easily.

  He slipped off his jacket and hung it over the chair back. Then he slid out the barstool and took a seat. “I’m new in town and haven’t been here before. Is there a particular dish you’d recommend for lunch?”

  Amber took over. She had eaten at Tap and Tavern many times. She leaned forward and looked right, beyond Kate. “The rib eye sandwich on sourdough is really good with the farro salad. You can’t go wrong with anything Enos prepares.”

  “Enos? That’s an old name.”

  Amber chuckled. “And he’s an old codger but a superior chef. He’s been cooking for thirty-five years.”

  “Sounds like you know this place well. You must be a local.”

  Kate spoke up. “We both are”—she pointed at Amber—“but she’s lived here all her life.”

  Warren held out his hand to shake theirs. He noticed that both ladies glanced at his hand. “I’m Craig Hartman, and like I said, I’m new in town. I’m a Louisiana original.”

  Kate took a sip of her club soda. “So that’s where the Southern twang comes from. It’s charming. I’m Kate, and my friend is Amber.”

  Tyler filled their glasses again. “Ladies, ready to order?”

  “Sure thing,” Amber said. “I’ll have the rib eye sandwich, medium rare, with the farro salad and two dill pickles.”

  “Great choice. And you, Kate?”

  “I’ll have the grilled chicken sandwich with waffle fries.”

  Tyler glanced at Warren. “Are you three together?”

  “No, sir, but Amber over there recommended the rib eye sandwich. I’ll have the same thing she ordered, but make my steak medium.”

  Tyler nodded. “Coming right up, and what can I get you to drink?”

  “I’ll have a Scottish Ale.”

  Tyler patted the bar. “Another great choice. Belhaven?”

  “Sure, and in a glass.”

  Amber leaned forward again and smiled. “Damn, it’s like listening to my sister. Jade is a fanatic for Belhaven. Actually, she loves all Scottish Ales, but Belhaven is her favorite.”

  “She sounds like a smart woman.”

  “If you consider FBI agents smart.” Kate chuckled and took a sip of soda.

  “FBI? No shit?”

  “Yeah, she’s the smartest woman I know and fierce as hell. Jade Monroe is no joke.”

  “Dang, now I’m scared.” Warren let out a laugh and made sure his eyes twinkled playfully with both women, but he needed to keep his focus on Kate. She and Jade had a price on their heads. The sister didn’t. Amber would be the frosting on the cake just because he enjoyed killing.

  “So did your job bring you here?” Amber asked.

  Warren coughed into his hand. “Pardon me. Guess the ale went down wrong. Yeah, you can say that.” He almost laughed at the irony of her question. “What do you ladies do?”

  Pride filled Kate’s voice when she explained their occupations. “We’re both detectives at the county sheriff’s office.”

  “Wow, I feel humbled in your presence. Sounds like law enforcement runs in your family.”

  Amber cut in. “We aren’t related, but we are best friends.”

  Tyler brought out the orders and set the plates on the bar. “Here are your sandwiches. Enjoy.”

  Amber checked the time. “We have to leave in twenty minutes. We better chow down.”

  “Sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time.” Warren furrowed his brows. “I should work on that. I tend to talk too much, especially when I want to get acquainted with the locals and fit in.” Right on cue, he flashed a perfect toothy smile.

  Kate bit into a waffle fry. “Don’t be silly. With your outgoing personality, you’ll fit in just fine. As a matter of fact, here’s my card.” She pulled a pen from her purse and wrote her cell number on the back then gave him a grin. “You can never have too many friends, right?”

  “You’re absolutely right, Kate, and thanks for making me feel welcome. It’s like I somehow knew you ladies would pop into my life. This restaurant must have given off a good vibe.”

  Amber called Tyler over. “We need to settle up, Ty.”

  Warren spoke up. “Let me get your lunches.”

  “No way. It’s too much, and I promised—”

  “Nonsense, I insist.” Warren scooped up the bill that Tyler placed on the bar, and he paid in cash. “Friendship has no price tag. I hope to see you two again real soon.”

  Amber and Kate stood to leave. “Thank you, Craig. That was very kind of you,” Kate said.

  He reached out and shook their hands a second time. “Have a nice day, ladies.”

  Chapter 7

  “I’m in shock right now.”

  I rolled my eyes at Kate as we walked back to my car. “Don’t you mean infatuated?” I pulled out the keys and clicked the fob. Kate rounded the car to the passenger side and climbed in.

  “Why would you say that? The guy is new in town, very friendly, and extremely generous. What’s not to like? I can’t help that he’s good-looking too.”

  “You’re shameless.” I looked over my right shoulder and backed out.

  “Meaning?”

  “You knew the guy—what was his name?”

  “Craig, and you already know that. Cops don’t forget.”

  I laughed. “Anyway, you knew Craig for three seconds and you were already drooling. Then, on top of your shamelessness, you gave him your card and cell number.”

  “Why do we have cards if we aren’t supposed to hand them out?”

  “I believe they’re used as a contact tool for people who have witnessed or know of a crime, and we never give anybody our personal information.”

  She huffed. “Don’t be so stuffy. Maybe Craig will witness a crime soon. You never know.”

  I turned onto Washington Street and headed east. “Whatever. Just be careful, and I’m speaking from experience.”

  “So what do you make of those tats on his hands? They’re kind of weird, aren’t they?”

  “People make stupid choices, Kate. What he thought looked cool and edgy ten
years ago might now be an embarrassment to him. Maybe it was a Louisiana fad at the time, but it’s hard to hide your hands. People can’t wear gloves every day.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  I heard a beep in my purse, indicating a text had come in just as I parked my car. I hoped it was the response from Jade that I had been waiting for all morning.

  Once we were inside the bull pen, I took a seat at my desk and pulled out my phone. The text was from Jade, and she asked if I had taken a picture of the snowy image. She also mentioned it was probably the meter reader taking the monthly gas and electric reading—all things I had considered myself. I fired off a return text that I hadn’t had my phone with me in the snow, and I had already thought of the meter reader scenario and walked to the neighbor’s meter. There weren’t any footprints near his. I pressed the blue Send arrow and looked up when Jack called Kate into his office. I heard him ask her to close the door once she was inside. I turned to Clayton and Billings. “What the hell is that about?”

  Clayton shrugged and let out a grunt.

  “No clue,” Billings said. “So, where did you guys go for lunch?”

  “To Tap and Tavern. Kate is already in love with a new guy in town who sat next to us at the bar. It seemed kind of odd how outgoing he was. The guy actually paid for our lunches.”

  Clayton chuckled. “What an idiot. It sounds like the dude was desperate to make friends.”

  I sighed. “Who knows? It’s sad how people are suspicious of random acts of kindness these days. Maybe it was nothing more than a nice gesture.”

  Billings spoke up. “Or a weird one. Why would a perfect stranger pay a thirty-dollar lunch tab for two women he had just met?”

  “Good question, and the term perfect is pretty accurate. The guy was kind of hot.”

  Clayton rolled his eyes. “Just make sure Kate doesn’t get sucked in.”

  I laughed. “Tell her that yourself, Chad. I’ve already warned her, but you have a certain father figure aura about you. Get this, she even gave the guy her card and wrote her cell number on the back. Then he wrote his phone number on the bar coaster, and she tucked it in her purse.”

  Billings groaned. “She’ll learn sooner or later, even if it’s the hard way.”

  Kate exited Jack’s office minutes later with him right on her heels. Her appearance and disposition had quickly changed. She looked upset.

  “Okay, listen up. Apparently this week has begun with a bang, and I mean that literally. A 911 call just came in to the city boys. Chief Sanders contacted me because of the location and the person involved. It looks like there’s been a murder. Several city patrol units are already on site, and Forensics and Lena are on their way.”

  “Holy shit.” I turned to Kate. Something more than the obvious was wrong. “Where are we going, and who was it?” I slipped on my shoulder holster and grabbed my coat from the closet. Everyone mirrored my actions.

  “We’re going downtown,” Jack said.

  I frowned. “Downtown? We just came from downtown, and everything appeared normal.”

  “It’s Marvin Myers. A crew came in to do some repairs in Kate’s old apartment about a half hour ago and found him dead. The strange thing is, the caller said he looked like he’d been dead a while.”

  “Oh my God. Maybe he had a heart attack.”

  “Not with a bullet wound to the head and a slit throat,” Jack said.

  Billings whistled. “That’s definitely overkill. So Chief Sanders called you because of the Robert Lynch situation?”

  “Yeah, but also because Myers was actually in Kate’s old apartment when he was killed.”

  I turned to Kate. “Why the hell would he be inside your old apartment?”

  “Waiting for the repair crew or doing some of that himself before he rents it out again. I really don’t know.”

  “I think you should sit this one out. You know, bad karma and that kind of thing.” I looked at Jack. “Boss?”

  “Don’t waste your breath, Amber. I’ve already suggested that myself. Kate insists on coming along.”

  “I’m fine,” Kate said. “Shouldn’t we go?”

  Jack nodded. “All right, let’s head out.”

  Chapter 8

  We reached the downtown building that housed apartments upstairs and the hardware store downstairs on the street level. As kids, Jade and I used to ride along with our dad when he needed to buy nails or tools. He always made a point of taking us across the street to Candyman on Main after our hardware store run. He’d buy us a single scoop of rocky road ice cream each and every time. I glanced across the street as I climbed out of our cruiser and looked fondly at the Candyman storefront.

  The city boys had set out orange cones, and police tape cordoned off most of the block. Several other officers escorted patrons out of the hardware store. Until the investigation was over, the store would have to be closed. Officer Phil Gentry redirected traffic to exit downtown on cross streets farther south. Parked in the narrow alley to the building’s side were the forensic and coroner’s vans.

  The scene was reminiscent of one several years earlier when Jade, dressed as Kate, had shot and killed Robert Lynch in that very alley. Neither Kate nor I had been employed with the sheriff’s office then, but the local news covered the case, and Jade was smack in the middle of it. I was sure those memories ran through Kate’s mind as we passed the alley and entered the building. To our right, a separate door led up the stairwell to the apartments, and straight ahead was the glass door to the hardware store.

  Upstairs, we gathered in the hallway in front of apartment 2-A. Repairs were long overdue, and it appeared that Mr. Myers had been addressing those issues before relisting the apartment for rent. The space, devoid of furniture, was still small, and we had to enter the living room single file. Chief Sanders and several officers already filled the room.

  I grimaced at the scene in front of us—it wasn’t pretty. Blood spatter and bone fragments covered the freshly painted walls and new carpet. Directly under Mr. Myers’s head was a foot-wide pool of coagulated blood. Lena and Jason knelt at the old man’s side as we looked over their shoulders.

  Jack shook the chief’s hand then crossed the room. Billy McHenry adjusted the camera’s focus as he snapped close-up pictures of the wall and floor.

  “Spatter from the head wound?”

  “Most definitely, boss. I’d say Mr. Myers was standing when he was shot, considering the height of the blood pattern. He fell backward from the impact and hasn’t been moved from where he fell.” Billy pointed at the carpet. “That blood pool around his head soaked into the carpet and is nearly dry.”

  Todd joined Jack and Billy. “I’ll print the doors and knobs. Since there isn’t any furniture, the process should go pretty fast. There’s no reason the perp would have stuck around to rifle through things since there’s nothing here.”

  “Thanks, guys.” Jack turned back to Lena and knelt at her side along with the chief. “What’s the body telling you?”

  She looked to her left. “I’d say he’s been dead a good twenty-four hours. He’s in full rigor. The blood is thick and coagulated in his wounds.” She pointed at his throat and the dime-sized hole in his forehead. “Guys, can I lift him now?”

  Billy nodded and squatted at our level. “Go ahead so I can photograph the exit wound.”

  Jason helped Lena lift Mr. Myers’s head.

  Jack turned to the blood spattered wall behind him. “There should be a slug embedded in the drywall.”

  “There’s no evidence of that,” Todd said.

  “The killer pried it out?”

  “It’s possible, unless it’s farther back or passed through completely.”

  I added my two cents. “Wouldn’t we see daylight, then?”

  “Sure, unless it’s stuck in the insulation or a two-by-four. We’ll check it out.”

  “This place didn’t feel like it had any insulation when I lived here,” Kate said. “I froze every winter.”
>
  After Billy snapped three more pictures, Lena carefully placed Mr. Myers’s head back on the floor. “Poor man. The back of his head is damn near gone.”

  “Which explains the bone fragments and tissue on the floor,” Clayton said.

  Jack sucked in a deep breath. “Got a caliber in mind?”

  Lena nodded. “Much larger than a .22. Because of the exit wound damage, I’d venture to say it could be a .45.”

  Jack rubbed his chin.

  “But without a slug, it’s only a calculated guess, Lieutenant.”

  “Understood.”

  Jason removed Mr. Myers’s wallet and looked inside. He called Billy over to photograph the contents. Jason placed four twenties, two tens, and three singles on the floor. Two credit cards and a couple of grocery store loyalty cards were placed side by side next to the cash, and Mr. Myers’s driver’s license was photographed by itself. “This clearly wasn’t a robbery.”

  I looked at Kate. “Mr. Myers wasn’t married, was he?”

  “Divorced for twelve years, but I think the ex-wife lives in the area.”

  I knelt and photographed the driver’s license. Knowing the address would expedite our visit to his neighborhood. We’d probably learn more about the family from his nearest neighbors.

  Jason removed Mr. Myers’s shoes and socks and pointed. The man’s heels were dark purple. “Yep, he wasn’t moved. Notice the lividity on his heels? I’d venture to say his entire backside looks the same.”

  Chief Sanders nodded. “I don’t understand the neck wound.” He pointed at the man’s throat. “It looks like he was cut twice.”

  “He was, but I couldn’t say why. The injuries are clean, meaning the perp had a sharp knife. It wasn’t like he was sawing at Mr. Myers’s neck.” Lena shook her head. “Sorry to sound so graphic. At least the cutting was done postmortem. No evidence of blood pumping out of the carotid artery anywhere near the body.”

  “Kate?”