“This is Chance.”
Judy Preston’s voice crackled over the speaker. “Penelope, I’m sorry to be calling on your vacation.”
“No problem, Judy. What’s up?”
“The 9-1-1 dispatch just routed us a call. A man jogging the Franklin River Trail discovered a body. I haven’t been able to reach the chief. I dispatched DeBose to the scene. He thought we could have a murder on our hands and I wanted you there to confirm.”
“Of course. Thank you, Judy. What part of the trail?”
“Near the Southside Bridge, out by the Last Chance Tavern.”
Penelope closed her eyes for a moment. She heard the crackle of fire and saw the crooked shadows the flames cast on the walls. She heard the screams, her lungs burning, the smoke smothering her . . .
“Penelope? You still there?”
Judy’s voice pulled her back to the present. She blinked away the memories of the fire that claimed the lives of her mother and father.
“Yes, Judy. I’m still here. Keep trying the chief and radio DeBose. Tell him to secure the scene. I’m on my way. And call the county sheriff. We’ll need their forensic assistance on this.”
“Will do, Penelope.”
Penelope hung up and put the dress back in her closet. She grabbed her uniform from another hanger and finished getting dressed.
CHAPTER 28
Fifteen minutes later, Penelope grabbed her keys and opened the front door, just as Jacob came walking up the steps to her porch.
She’d forgotten to call and tell him she had to cancel. She’d been forgetting a lot of things lately. She was often on call and Jacob had a tight schedule that divided his time between the Franklin Clinic and Grace Memorial Hospital. It didn’t make for much quality time. Sunday was their day to recharge. They drove to church together and then went to Spanky’s Grill for brunch. They needed this time without the many distractions.
Jacob looked her up and down before he gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Not exactly Sunday attire, Penny. Why are you in uniform?”
Penelope shook off the guilt brewing in her stomach. It was her sworn duty to serve the people of Franklin. She reached up and touched his bandaged head and caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” She stepped in closer to him and gave him a gentle hug. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned against his chest. It was warm, and she savored being close to him. There were days when it seemed he was miles away, even when he was standing right next to her.
“Is everything okay? You’re starting to worry me.”
“A jogger found a body out by the Southside Bridge, and dispatch couldn’t reach the chief, so she called me.”
“And no one else could take the call? I understand that you’re high up in the ranks there, but if it’s a dead body, they aren’t going anywhere.”
“Jacob! A person is dead. Possibly murdered.”
“I don’t mean any disrespect. You know I don’t. But it’s Sunday . . . your day off. You’re supposed to be on vacation.” Jacob looked at her, and she fought the urge to squirm under his gaze. His eyes drilled through her. “Why does it always have to be you?”
“You know they wouldn’t call unless they needed me,” she said. “DeBose is there now, but he’s still a rookie. I need to supervise until Judy can reach the chief.”
Jacob opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. Finally, he sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you? I’ve seen that look before.”
Penelope frowned and took a step back from Jacob. “What look?”
“The look you get in your eyes when you’ve made up your mind about something. When you get that look, you don’t take no for an answer, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
“It’s my job,” Penelope said in her defense—and it was the truth. “We can ride over together and go to church afterward. I don’t want to leave DeBose out there alone.”
Jacob turned his face away from her and looked down the road. His eyes traveled over the objects in her front yard—the mailbox, the rose bush, the garbage can. She knew he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. He was thinking about what she had said.
“Well . . . If that’s the only way I’m going to get to spend time with you . . .” he said, letting his sentence trail off.
Penelope smiled tentatively, and they walked to Jacob’s car.
The drive was awkward. Twice Penelope tried to start up a conversation, to talk about something arbitrary, but both times the words fell—lifeless.
She looked out the passenger window at the scenery. Should she have told Judy no? She was on vacation. It was a Sunday. Her relationship with Jacob didn’t deserve to be put on the back burner. But Penelope was a police officer with a sworn duty. She’d dedicated nine years of her life to the Franklin Police Department, to doing what was right. It was in her blood. She couldn’t refuse.
CHAPTER 29
When they arrived at the crime scene, a line of cars was already on site. Penelope recognized some of them, like the Putnam County Sheriff Forensics Unit and DeBose’s police cruiser.
“Looks like DeBose wasn’t alone out here after all,” Jacob said, parking behind DeBose’s car.
Penelope swallowed her reply.
The scene was alive with people walking back and forth between cars and talking to each other. She prepared herself mentally for what she was about to see. Butterflies stirred in her stomach, like her first day as a rookie. She glanced down the street at the empty lot, and the memories of a night twenty-three years ago played in her mind.
Her childhood home was on fire. Her parents were running with her to the front door. The fire was blocking their escape. Her father was smashing the kitchen window, and her mom was lifting her up and out of the window. And her mom’s final words, “Run, baby, run away” just before the fire whooshed up and burned her ankle—a permanent scar was a reminder of that night.
Even after releasing the guilt of surviving that night, the memories still consumed her.
“Hey,” Jacob said softly. He took her hand and said, “It’s going to be alright.”
He must have noticed her unease.
Penelope shook away the images and released a shaky breath. She didn’t need to hide her emotions from Jacob. She’d become so good at putting on a strong face; sometimes she forgot to take it off.
“Let’s pray,” Jacob said.
He knew she wanted to pray—needed it even. He was a pillar of strength. It was a relief to know that he was on the same page. Any tension between them vanished. She nodded, and he closed his eyes, holding her one hand in both of his.
“Lord,” Jacob began, “may the soul of this person rest in Your capable hands, and may the family of the victim be eased through this terrible time. If this person was murdered, please give Penny and her fellow officers the knowledge they need to find the person that committed this crime, so justice may prevail.”
“By Your will and strength alone,” Penelope added.
Jacob squeezed Penelope’s hands. “And Lord,” he continued, “even though she’d never admit it, I know Penny has a lot on her mind . . . being here today . . . at this location . . . so close to where she lost her parents. Please watch over her and take care of her. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”
“Amen,” Penelope echoed.
It felt good to know she could hand this kind of stress over to the Lord, and He would guide her through it. God and Jacob got her through so much. She said a silent prayer of thanks for Jacob. Nothing he needed to hear, just a rush of gratitude that she still had him.
When they both opened their eyes, Penelope took a deep breath, trying to work oxygen around the tightness in her chest. “Thank you for that, Jacob.”
“A word of advice,” he said. “Don’t look at it as a dead body, look at it as a mystery . . . a mystery that needs to be solved. It’s horrible that someone died, but they’re gone now, and they’ll need someone to speak for them. You’re that person.”
&n
bsp; Penelope flashed a smile, hoping she looked more confident than she felt, and gave Jacob a quick kiss on the lips. “Thank you,” she said and steeled herself. She was about to open the car door when she glanced back at Jacob. “Will you wait here?”
“Huh?” He looked taken aback.
“I won’t be long.”
“I might be able to help.”
Penelope shook her head. “I’ll come get you if I need you.”
CHAPTER 30
Penelope walked the short distance from the trailhead to the crime scene and tried to shake off the tension of the day.
The Franklin River Nature Trail was an old fire service road that ran parallel to Franklin River. Joggers, hikers, and dog walkers used the road. The trail was usually peaceful, with birds chirping in the canopy of branches overhead. Today the chirping was absent. The wind rustled through the trees and the smell of damp moss and undergrowth traveled on the breeze. Penelope took a deep breath. She was wound up tight, and she wanted to handle her encounter with the body with grace.
Penelope rounded a short bend in the road and spotted Officer Alex DeBose. Yellow crime tape already marked the scene. The county sheriff’s forensics unit was on-site taking photos and marking evidence. Death was never private. Every inch of the person and the scene would be photographed, documented, labeled, and discussed. It was all very clinical. The usually quiet area hummed with activity, a slight buzz in the air.
DeBose was talking to a taller man with an athletic build—probably the caller. The man had his back to Penelope, but with his short graying hair, she placed him in his late forties. He was wearing black sweatpants, a blue sleeveless T-shirt, and black Nike running shoes. He appeared to be a little shaken up. Discovering death was never pleasant, no matter how involved you were.
When DeBose spotted Penelope, he excused himself and walked over to greet her. “Just your luck. Great way to start your vacation . . . huh, Chance?”
“It’s not a matter of luck.”
DeBose shrugged and handed Penelope a clipboard. It was standard operating procedure for all persons entering or leaving a crime scene to sign in and out. Judging by the list of names, DeBose had done a good job of securing the scene. Penelope printed her name, badge number and signed in.
DeBose took the clipboard and handed her a pair of blue latex gloves.
“Looks like you’ve got everything under control here,” Penelope said as she ducked under the crime scene tape.
“The county forensics team arrived about ten minutes ago. I was just wrapping up with our caller.”
Penelope took a deep breath through her nose. “What’ve we got?”
“Victim was a Caucasian male, late twenties, early thirties. Haven’t touched the body, so no ID yet. A Mr. Tony Egland found the body. He was out for a run with his dog—” DeBose paused and flipped through his notes.
“Kona,” Penelope said. “Tony’s dog’s name is Kona.”
DeBose glanced up from his notepad. “Yeah . . . that’s right. You know him?”
Penelope looked over DeBose’s shoulder, caught the eye of the jogger, and gave him a smile and a wave. “I almost didn’t recognize him out of uniform. Tony’s a volunteer with the Franklin Fire Department.”
“That’s right,” DeBose continued. “Kona ran down into the river and found the body. Mr. Egland called 9-1-1. And when I arrived, he helped secure the scene.”
“Where’s the body?”
“Over here . . .”
Penelope followed DeBose across a small wooden footbridge to the west side of the river. A half dozen yellow evidence tents marked what looked like blood drops. The medical examiner wasn’t on site yet, so no one had disturbed the body. It was on a dark patch, lying cold and lifeless, at the bottom of the slope that led toward the river.
Penelope snapped on the blue gloves and stretched her fingers until the gloves fit snugly. Franklin River was more like Franklin Trickle. If the water had been any deeper, it might have taken longer to find the body. Small blessings.
A forensic technician passed and Penelope gave a respectful nod.
From where they stood on the edge of the river, the victim looked to be about six feet tall and was face down in the muck of the stream. He was wearing black pants, a black T-shirt and a pair of black basketball shoes. The victim’s legs were crossed at the ankles, and his arms were sprawled.
“Looks like a dump job,” Penelope observed.
“How can you tell?”
“See the way the legs are crossed and the arms are flailed to the sides? He was probably rolled down the embankment.”
DeBose frowned, considering it. “So he wasn’t killed here?”
“That would be my guess. We’ll know for sure when the M.E. has had a chance to examine the body.”
Penelope watched as the forensics unit methodically took pictures of the body from various angles. The photographer looked up, gave Penelope a polite smile, and continued taking photos. She lifted her hand in a half wave.
She paused for a moment and said a silent prayer. The idea of lost life was getting to her. Maybe it was because she’d nearly lost Jacob, and she knew that someone else, somewhere, hadn’t been so lucky. Somewhere a mother had just lost a son. She took another deep breath and blew it out again.
A rustling noise from behind pulled Penelope’s attention back to the job at hand. She turned to see Jacob and Dr. Tammy Harris, Gainesville’s Chief Medical Examiner, walking cautiously but quickly across the wooden bridge.
“Jacob?”
“Sorry, Penelope. I was waiting in the car, and Dr. Harris asked if I’d give her a hand.”
The medical world wasn’t a big one, and the two worlds—medical and law enforcement—often rubbed shoulders. Penelope turned back to the body and tried not to let her emotions show.
DeBose signed in Dr. Harris and Dr. Gordon and headed back to the trailhead.
Dr. Harris made her way down to the body and began her preliminary examination. She worked systematically, starting at the head and working her way down, following a mental checklist. Jacob stopped next to Penelope, and they watched side-by-side. No matter how much she wanted him to be far away and safe, his presence was soothing.
CHAPTER 31
Fifteen minutes later, Chief Curtis Jackson arrived on the scene with Officer Bill Peterson.
“Chance,” Chief Jackson said, sounding surprised, “you’re the last person I expected to see today.”
Peterson raised his eyebrows, confusion showing on his stern face. “Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”
“It’s no use, guys,” Jacob said. “She wouldn’t even listen to me.”
Penelope rolled her eyes. “Tony Egland, a volunteer firefighter with the Franklin Fire Department, found the body while jogging this morning. Judy called me when she couldn’t reach you, Chief. I wanted to give DeBose a hand. Murder isn’t something we come across in Franklin every day.”
Jackson nodded and watched the medical examiner while Penelope filled him in on everything they knew so far.
“Dr. Gordon, will you come down here?” Dr. Harris called. “I need help rolling the body over. You guys can come down, too.”
Peterson excused himself and Jacob made his way down the embankment. Penelope and the chief followed. Jacob squared his shoulders and moved toward the body. He had to stand in the trickle of water to reach the body.
“Let’s flip him over,” the examiner said.
Jacob closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. For someone who worked with death and illness every day, he was a shade too pale. He gripped the body by the shoulder and heaved. Emotion flickered across his face too fast for Penelope to read. It took a bit of force to manipulate a dead body. It was almost as if the soul had been replaced with lead, and none of the limbs cooperated the way they needed to.
The body flopped over, the arms splashing in the bit of water in the river. The face was revealed, and despite a smear of mud and a couple of smudges of dirt, the fac
e was surprisingly young and unblemished.
Jacob’s face went pale. His eyes were glued to the face of the victim. He looked like he might fall over. “It’s him,” he said so softly it was barely audible, but none of them missed it.
Penelope reached for Jacob’s hand as he stumbled backward, trying to scramble away from the body. “You recognize this guy?” she asked.
Jacob looked at the corpse for a moment. Penelope saw him mentally flipping through every face he knew. His eyes widened slightly when he found a match.
“It’s one of the guys that robbed the pharmacy,” he said.
It was as if something had sucked all of the air out of the space around them, and they stood in a vacuum.
“Are you sure?” Penelope asked.
Jacob nodded. He pointed to the face. “The scar on his left eyebrow. It’s him. I’m sure of it.” He looked up, and his eyes showed concern when they met Penelope’s. “But how did he get here?”
Penelope exchanged glances with Jackson before they both looked back at the body. They were thinking the same thing: the two crimes had to be related.
“Good question,” Penelope said, still holding Jacob’s hand. She gave it a reassuring squeeze and then let go.
Chief Jackson knelt to inspect the body and Penelope joined him. He moved slowly and calmly as if he examined dead people all the time—which wasn’t far from the truth. The chief had been in law enforcement for thirty plus years and had probably seen much, much worse than this.
With the body flipped over, the wound was apparent. Despite the dark T-shirt, Penelope could see the large, brownish stain of dried blood on the abdomen.
“Single gunshot wound,” Dr. Harris said, confirming what everyone was seeing.
“Now we need to find out who he is,” Jackson said. “Is it okay to check for ID, doctor?” Dr. Harris nodded, and Jackson searched the body. “Nothing,” he confirmed.
“Caliber, Doctor?” Penelope asked, leaning in to get a closer look.
Another Chance (A Penelope Chance Mystery Book 2) Page 8
