“One more thing.”
Morgan tapped the clamp on the edge of the table.
“We’re…I’m curious to know if you can tell if the bleeding in the brain was from an injury or a medical condition.”
“As I said yesterday, the amount of bleeding along with other injuries strongly suggests the victim was shaken into unconsciousness. While there are medical conditions that cause bleeding, the amount I saw yesterday on the x-rays indicates a violent and sustained degree of trauma and not a medical condition. And I cannot speculate how he received the cerebral trauma. Now, do you have any further questions?”
Serena shook her head. “I’ll just…” She motioned toward the door. Morgan nodded.
“See that you do.”
Serena bolted through the doors, almost colliding with Mike.
“He kick you out?” Mike was out of the green paper garb, a reassuring sight in his usual jeans and flannel shirt, his parka held in one hand, sipping a paper cup of water.
“More or less. You okay?” She tore off the paper gown, wadded it up, and tossed it in the nearby container. The paper booties and mask followed. She reached behind, adjusting the ponytail at the back of her neck.
“Yeah. It’s just…you know, I can see a dead body at the scene. But in there…” Mike gestured toward the autopsy room. “It’s just…I know it makes no sense.”
Serena nodded. “Morgan doesn’t make it any easier. He gets harder and harder to work with, but he’s so damn good. He said the bleeding was from being shaken, not from something wrong in Goudy’s brain.”
“Anything else to bring me up to speed?”
She reached into the locker where she’d stashed her things in and pulled on her jacket. “No, I think that’s all.” She turned and pulled on her hat, ready to head out through the dock doors. But Mike blocked her way.
“How’d your meeting with Callahan go?” Mike stood in the hall, solid and broad, a rock she’d need to move if she wanted to go forward.
Her heart skipped a beat and her face went hot. Wes, the look on his face after the kiss, wild and primal, eerie gray eyes in the dim light, flashed through her mind, quickly followed by her dream of him rising above her, taking her over the edge. Damn it, this wasn’t the time to be thinking of their kiss or her dreams. She needed to focus on the case.
“It went okay.”
“You learn anything you want to share? I know you didn’t want to tell Nowinski about Callahan, but I’m your partner.” Mike’s voice was low, his face holding a mixed expression, concern and maybe even suspicion. Not a look she wanted to see on her partner’s face.
“Yeah, I know that.” She looked up at him, scowling. “You think I’m holding back on you?”
Mike shrugged. “Let’s just say right now, you’re playing this a little too close to the vest for me. This is a big case and I want to see it solved. And I want to help make that happen. But if you’re looking to keep me out of the loop…” He held out his hands, palms up. “Then where are we? It’s a repeat of the Mary-Claire Burns case, where you shut me out and self-destructed.”
Serena winced. Mike’s comment touched a nerve, but this wasn’t the time or the place. “I’m tired, okay? It was late when I got home.” She saw Mike’s eyebrow twitch and it did nothing to make her less prickly.
“It’s not what you think. Callahan has a lead, a guy he thinks is good for Goudy and for the string of murders he’s been following. Turns out the guy’s living in the mill house in Shadow Falls.” It was another lie and about as far as she was going to go with how she knew Brody Sullivan.
Mike’s eyebrows rose and he whistled. “No shit. Does Callahan have anything solid that links this guy…what’s his name?”
“Brody Sullivan.”
“Name doesn’t sound familiar.” Mike shook his head.
“Yeah, he’s not a local. I want to run a check today on him. Here…” She pulled her notebook from her pocket and tore out a page. “Here’s the info from his driver’s license. See if you can find anything on him.”
“Does Callahan have anything at all tying these together? Something we could use? Any priors?”
Serena shook her head. “No, nothing. He’s not going on much more than a gut feeling and that Sullivan’s been in every city where there’s been violent murders of college kids. But nothing else.”
“Huh. So how did you find him? I mean Sullivan?”
Serena’s thoughts skittered in her head. There was no way she was going to explain to Mike how she really knew Brody. Not now, maybe not ever.
“One of the photos, one of the last ones with human tracks…it was taken just off the shores of Waubesa, right by the mill. I asked around at Andy’s last night and found out the mill house had been rented to someone matching Sullivan’s description. I paid him a visit and we talked.”
“No shit. And?”
Serena hesitated, a flush creeping up her cheeks. “And not much. He’s the guy Callahan says he is. But that’s not enough to do anything but keep an eye on him.”
“Maybe Doc Morgan will find something in the autopsy.” Mike dropped his gaze. “I’m really sorry, Serena, about what happened in there…and about being late.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry I snapped. It was…I didn’t get home till late, like I said and…well, yeah. Lack of sleep makes me bitchy.”
Mike’s laugh was gentle. “Yeah. I know. I’ve been there. So I’ll meet you at the office?” He shrugged into his parka.
“Yeah. I need to stop somewhere and buy some gloves though.” She wiggled her fingers in front of her face. “I left mine at Delmonico’s and my hands are frozen.”
They parted ways. Twenty minutes later found Serena taking the stairs once again to the third floor, stuffing her new gloves into the pocket of her jacket. Mike was already at his desk, scribbling notes on three by five cards. He looked up as she sat down.
“Nothing on Brody Sullivan.” Mike shook his head, reading from a note card. “He’s twenty-eight, born in Wichita, went to school there. Graduated from Wichita State, majored in English. That’s all I got so far.”
Serena bit her lip. “Callahan described him as the all-American boy. I thought he meant in looks, but Sullivan does sound like a corn-fed Midwesterner.”
She caught Mike’s look and pulled a face. “Yeah, he’s pretty good looking. Which makes me wonder why he’s killing males and not females. He’d be shooting fish in a barrel if he went after women. They’d fall all over him.”
“Maybe he’s gay?”
Serena ducked her head, covering her sudden embarrassment with a cough. “Not sure. Didn’t ask. Can you check for a Brody Garwood, author? Sullivan said he’s a writer, uses a pen name. Maybe there’s a connection.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Serena’s cell phone rang. For an instant, her heart fluttered and she hoped it would be Wes. But it was Evans, the ever-diligent officer who’d canvassed the ice fishermen.
“Detective? I think I found Goudy’s clothes.”
“Where?” Serena tapped her desk and Mike looked up.
“Underneath the Terrace roof, by the railroad tracks. Someone called it in.”
“We’ll be right there.” She stood, flipped her phone shut, and grabbed her jacket. Mike was already on his feet, reaching for his parka.
“What’s up?”
“Might be Goudy’s clothes under the Terrace roof.” She was headed for the door, Mike right behind her. “I’ll drive.”
The Monona Terrace walkway straddled John Nolan Drive, creating a tunnel for multiple lanes of traffic and a single railroad track. On the northeast side of the street was the now-obscured mural painted on the backside of an office building, something done in the 80s. Serena found the mural interesting, but even before the Terrace was built, the mural was hard to view. Law Park was too far away and the only other alternative was driving by in a car. Neither option was appealing.
Serena drove alongside the railroad track as far as she could. Th
ey climbed out, walking toward Officer Evans.
“CSU is on their way. I’ve taped off this side and as far down the other side as I could.”
“Thanks, Evans. Who called this in?”
They walked awkwardly on the railroad track toward the yellow crime scene tape, flapping in the cold breeze.
“Not sure. You’d have to check with dispatch. There wasn’t anyone here when I arrived.”
They walked a few feet further. “Here’s where I went in, straight line, had a look then and came back out. I’ll have CSU take a boot print to rule out mine, if I left any. So you’re not confused.” His last statement was delivered to Serena with a smirk. She turned, ready with a retort, but Mike stepped between them.
“Thanks, Evans. Can you wait down there?” Mike pointed back to where the car and Evan’s black and white was parked. “You can send CSU down after you give them that boot print.”
Evans nodded to Mike and flashed a veiled look at Serena before turning back. Serena and Mike walked on, cars streaming by only yards away.
“What was Goudy wearing?” Serena raised her voice to be heard above the traffic.
“Jeans, a black t-shirt, black skater shoes. A hoodie, black, and then a zip front jacket, also black. T-shirt had a logo, something white with letters. Zoo something.”
“Zoo York.”
They reached the yellow tape and stopped. Ahead was a pile of dark clothing, flecks of white visible.
“There’s a million footprints here, we’re never going to sort them all out.”
Serena ducked beneath the tape, eyes on the ground, walking in Evans’s tracks. “Here…and here.” She squatted down, pointing to the left.
“The ground’s frozen, has been for a long time. These…” She waved her hand over the dark earth. “These are all old. But here, where the snow blew in last night, this is fresh.” She pulled out her phone, snapping several photos of the snowy ground.
“The tread looks generic though. CSU can run it through their database just the same.” She fished an evidence marker out of her pocket, setting it down next to the print.
Serena stood and looked over the area. Garbage was strewn along the railroad tracks, debris from passing cars. The area didn’t generally have a great deal of foot traffic. It was a railroad right of way and walking along it was considered trespassing.
“Does it strike you odd that someone would dump Goudy’s clothes after the murder?” Mike was behind her and she turned to him.
“I think everything about this case is odd, Mike. From the start…it’s all weird.”
“You think those tracks are from whoever dumped the clothes?”
“Right now, a strong maybe. That’s as good as it gets. We’ll have to wait…”
“Hey Daniels,” Serena turned. The lead CSU Investigator, Renee Vitori, had just arrived, leading her team of technicians.
“Renee. How you been?”
“Good. Glad to see you. We need to catch up some time. Not now, obviously.” Renee was already eyeing the scene, and Serena could see the wheels turning in her friend’s mind. She and Renee met on the Mary-Claire Burns case and had hit it off immediately. But their conflicting and hectic schedules kept them apart more than Serena would have liked. Renee was the only other woman Serena had really connected with and she missed talking with her.
“This is connected to yesterday’s lake murder?” Renee nodded over her shoulder in the direction of the lake, hidden by the bulk of the Terrace.
“Yeah. Marcus Goudy. We think these are his clothes.” Serena pointed to the small bundle. She nodded at Mike. “You know my partner, right? Mike Sparks?”
“Sure do. Still freezing your balls off, Mike?” Renee grinned, winking at Mike. “We need to find you some kind of thermal...”
“Yeah. I get it.” Mike scowled at the women. “I got work to do. I’m going to call dispatch, see if they got a name on the caller.”
Renee and Serena watched Mike walk away. “Still doesn’t let anyone tease him except you, huh, Serena? You two are like an old married couple sometimes.”
“Yeah. That’s Mike.” Serena watched him, his cell phone pressed to his ear.
“I got a boot print from Evans, the ass. What’s that guy’s problem? Does he hate all women?” Renee turned, directing her team, barely pausing for a breath between commands.
“So we’ll do the usual. Anything you want us to look for?”
“Yeah. Here…” She led Renee to the evidence marker she’d laid down. “This shoe. If you can get this and any others you find in the snow, that’d be great. We’re also looking for hairs, dog or wolf, on the clothes.”
“Dog I get. But wolf?”
“Yeah. It’s an…unusual case. I think…”
Serena’s cell phone chirped. She held up a finger to Renee and dug the phone out of her jacket pocket, flipping it open. “Daniels.”
“Serena…I’ve been waiting for your call.”
Wes’s voice was cool, deep…and utterly commanding. Serena’s heart went into high gear. She covered the phone with one hand.
“I gotta take this.”
Renee nodded. “I’ve got work to do. I’ll be in touch.” She strode away into the gloom beneath the overpass. Serena waited until Renee was out of earshot, involved in a conversation with another CSU guy.
“Wes. You were first on my list, but all hell’s broken loose this morning.” She closed her eyes, willing her heart to slow down.
“What’s the latest development?”
Serena drew a breath, held it, and considered what she should say, how much she should tell Wes about the investigation, the clothes…the strange boot tread. He wasn’t on the payroll, he was just a guy…
“I want to see you.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized it, almost pulled from her against her will.
“I want to see you, too.”
She heard the smile in Wes’s voice and her breath came up short, every nerve in her body tingling. She closed her eyes and Wes was immediately there, masculine and sexy, lips waiting for her kiss.
“Would wanting to see me have anything to do with the case, or with something else?”
“With…the case. What other reason could there be?” She opened her eyes, focusing on Renee, watching her move cautiously through the scene, pointing, talking, all efficiency and professionalism. Everything Serena wasn’t at the moment.
“Nothing. Just curious.” His voice still teased her. “I think we should meet. Get caught up…on the case.”
“Where are you?” Serena bit her lip, too late to take back the words. She should have him come to the precinct, have Mike there, have anyone else there. Even the desk sergeant from downstairs. But she wanted Wes Callahan. It was sudden and overwhelming, and she was compelled to act by something deeper than logic and rational thought.
“I’m at the Hyatt. Right where you left me.”
“I’ll be right there.” Serena flipped her phone shut, jamming it back into her pocket. Renee was busy and so were the rest of the group. Serena walked quickly to her car, slipping inside and backing out of the railroad right of way, bumping over the curb and skidding out onto the street. She glanced out the sidewinder, saw Renee watching her, but turned her head and drove off, toward the Hyatt. It wasn’t until she arrived that she realized she’d left Mike without a ride to the precinct. It bothered her that she didn’t care; he could catch a ride with Evans or Renee.
She showed the valet her badge and handed him her keys without a second thought. Her feet took her straight to the elevator and then down the hall to Wes’s room. She knocked once and the door opened.
“Hi, Serena. Come on in.”
He held the door open and she slipped inside. The door had barely closed when he had her in his arms, his mouth coming down on hers, hard and fast. Her first instinct was to pull away, to resist, but her mind went blank and her body quickly gave in. A feeble protest rose up in her mind, but it was overridden by the heat that engulfed
her body.
She gave in, giving back as hard as she got this time, her tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, biting his lips, his growls making her instantly hot and wet. Wes broke away, looking down at her.
“Serena…I thought you wanted to talk about the case.” He held her at arm’s length and she tried to fight his grasp. She was here about the case, damn it. But the words in her mind were not the words she spoke.
“No…I want you….” She pulled away from him, yanking down the zipper on her coat and shrugging out of it.
There was no hesitation then from either of them. Wes’s hands were everywhere, as were Serena’s. They made their way down the short hall to the bedroom, Wes pinning her to the wall as he grabbed her bra, easily tearing it in half before dropping it to the floor. Serena’s fingers were at the zipper of his jeans, tugging and pulling.
And then suddenly they were naked, bodies pressed together, standing in the hall. Wes grabbed Serena’s ponytail, pulling the long end around her throat, his face against her neck. She could feel the hardness of him pressing against her stomach and she twisted against him. His growl this time was tempered with a moan, a sound that set off a deep smoldering ache inside Serena.
“You’re all I’ve thought about since I saw you, since I kissed you.” His breath was hot against her cheek and she tried to turn toward him.
“Wes…”
“Don’t talk.” He pressed his hips forward, pushing her back against the wall. One hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding her center, probing and stroking. Serena let her head fall back as Wes released her ponytail, the soft swath of her hair falling across one breast, dark against her pale skin.
His mouth was on hers again, hot, insistent…she wanted more of him, all of him. She slid one leg over his muscular hip, opening herself further, blatantly thrusting her hips forward. There was no ambivalence in her movements. And it was obvious Wes knew what she wanted and that he wanted the same thing. She gasped as he pulled his mouth from hers.
“Turn around.” He spun her around, sending her off balance. Serena put her hands out, palms flat, her cheek pressed against the wall.
All American Wolf Page 9
