Off the Leash

by D. D. VanDyke

  Not wanting to be blindsided in case the two were in it together, I drifted to my right a couple of steps, away from Theresa. “I’m just following up some leads. Excuse me.” I said, keeping my voice casual as I pulled out my phone.

  I speed-dialed Allsop again, praying for him to pick up. He didn’t, but I acted as if he had, keeping my eyes on Don. “Lieutenant, it’s me. Yeah. I’m out at the Racine place. How close are you? Five minutes? Good. See you then.” Shutting the flip-phone with a confident snap, I slid it back onto my belt.

  “Why do you think this has anything to do with us?” Don asked.

  “The woman was killed with a large syringe full of Ketamine. Any chance you have any lying around the barn?”

  “I don’t even know what that is. Honey?” Don turned to his wife with a puzzled look.

  “It’s an animal tranquilizer. We have syringes, but only for vitamin shots. I’m not a vet. I don’t keep Ketamine here. It’s a controlled substance.”

  I glanced at Don and back to Theresa, trying to keep them both in view. “You’re a doctor. You could get it easily enough.”

  “Just what the hell are you accusing me of?” Theresa said, her voice rising.

  “Nothing, yet. But the police will be here soon with a warrant. Will they find anything?” I was bluffing, pure and simple – doubly so, as not only was there no warrant, I wasn’t even sure Allsop was on his way. If this had been a straightforward case of whodunit I’d have smiled and backed out the door, leaving it to the cops to plod through the legal and forensic process.

  But I didn’t have that luxury. My cop instincts told me that if I left, someone would be dead within the hour.

  I just wasn’t certain who.

  My phone rang. Quickly I put it to my ear, backing up a couple more steps and trying to watch my two suspects. “Lieutenant?”

  “Yeah, it’s Jay. Listen, Cal, we found the cat. A neighbor lady had it. Said Corrine dropped it off about nine in the morning.”

  “And time of death was?”

  “ME says somewhere around then.”

  I dropped my voice to a barely audible level. “Jay, you I need you out here at the Racine address with backup, CSU and a warrant. I’m almost sure one of these two killed Corrine and maybe Angela.”

  “Almost? What’s your probable cause?”

  “It’s all circumstantial, but my gut is on fire.”

  “Judges don’t issue warrants for gut feelings.”

  “If you don’t figure something out fast, you’re going to have another dead girl.”

  Allsop sighed. “Then whatever we find, you’ve already seen, right?”

  “Got it.” He meant that if – when – we found evidence, I’d claim to have observed it beforehand to justify the search. Bending the rules? Sure, but if it saved a life and put away a murder, I’d live with it.

  “Is that the police?” Don spoke up.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “They’re welcome to come in and look around. We have nothing to hide.”

  “Don!” Theresa’s jaw dropped. “I’m not going to have a bunch of cops tramping around looking for God knows what. You know how they are. If they want to find something, they’ll find something, even if it’s just an expired Vicodin in the medicine cabinet. We need to call our lawyer.”

  Don walked over to embrace his wife, sitting down with her on the sofa. “No. It’s better that they take their look and then go away. Just relax.”

  The two argued for a moment more, and then Theresa began to sob quietly. Don stroked her hair and shrugged at me. The whole scene threw me off. They weren’t reacting the way I’d expected.

  I waited for an awkward fifteen minutes until Allsop pulled up in an unmarked, a Pacifica PD squad car right behind.

  I opened the door for the two men before they could ring the bell. “This is Don and Theresa Racine,” I said as they entered, gesturing toward the couple on the couch. “Theresa’s a doctor at the Turk Street clinic. They have horses. The murder weapon was a horse syringe filled with horse tranquilizer, and Mister Racine has given consent to search the premises.”

  “I don’t want them here,” Theresa protested weakly.

  “Mister Racine?” the uniform asked.

  “Go ahead. Search anywhere you like,” Don replied.

  The two cops exchanged glances and Allsop said to the uniform, “Only need the one. You stay here. Cal and I will look around.”

  The officer nodded and took a waiting stance facing the couple, thumbs in his belt.

  I led Allsop into the kitchen and out the back door, hurrying. “It has to be in the barn,” I said.

  “What has to be?”

  “Ketamine.”

  “Be pretty damn stupid to leave incriminating evidence lying around like that, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, it would. That’s why I think we’ll find it.”

  I could feel Allsop staring at me, but I was enjoying the upper hand so I held off enlightening him.

  When we entered the barn, two horses shifted in their stalls. “You start at that end. I’ll look here.” I immediately began opening rough-hewn cabinets, finding tack and what I assumed were tools for tending horses: brushes and combs, curved knives I thought were for trimming hooves, hammers, shoes, nails…

  “Got something.” Allsop slipped on a latex glove and picked up a small bottle from a drawer. “Ketamine. And syringes. How did you know?”

  “Doctor Racine identified the type of needle as something they use in trauma medicine for emergency procedures, such as injecting epinephrine straight to the heart.”

  “So? That’s what she would say.”

  “But out of the blue she also volunteered that the same kind of syringe could be used to inject horses with drugs.”

  Allsop nodded. “Bad liar syndrome.”

  “Probably.” Good liars kept their stories simple. Bad liars fill in too many details. They try to act helpful, thinking it makes them seem innocent. “When I found out she rode horses, I immediately became suspicious. When I realized she actually kept horses at home, I knew I was onto something.”

  “Good work,” Allsop grudged, “but I still can’t believe she’d leave the stuff lying around to be found. If I was her I’d at least hide it from such a casual search. There’s a thousand places in here.”

  “Yeah, that is funny, huh?” I walked slowly around the barn, searching for anything out of place.

  “What are you thinking?”

  I didn’t answer, just kept looking, looking.

  “You know something, Cal. Cough it up.”

  “I interviewed a guy at the clinic that said Don was paying attention to Corrine and Angela.”

  “Your runaway?”

  “Yeah. You notice his ring?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “It’s gone. Recently, from the mark. Theresa hasn’t worn hers for some time. No indentations, no tan lines. But both of them spent time outdoors. What’s that say to you?”

  “Trouble in paradise? She hasn’t been happy with him for a while.”

  “Theresa wants kids. Don doesn’t. They’re at odds, maybe not sleeping together. She said he’s on the verge of a big promotion. And he makes most of their money.”

  Allsop’s eyes widened. “Don married a younger woman, but now maybe she’s not young enough. She’s starting to settle down and wants to be a mommy. He’s not ready to give up playing stud alpha male. Starts seeing Corrine on the side. Theresa finds out or suspects. Tension rises further.”

  I nodded, still searching. “Maybe Corrine wants more than to be a kept woman. Things get dicey. It’s manageable for a while, but then Don sees Angela – who’s a real looker, by the way – and decides he wants her.”

  Allsop started moving toward the door. “That pushes Theresa over the edge. The clinic’s only a couple of blocks from Corrine’s place, so she walks over and kills her. We have to arrest our good doctor.”

  “Yes, we do.” I followed him as he hur
ried across the back yard to the house.

  “I know that tone,” Allsop said as he walked, glancing at me sharply, “and I know there are some holes. We’ll fill them all in during the interrogation.”

  Big holes, I thought. Like, how did she move Corrine from the bathroom to the bed? But I didn’t contradict him. I was happy with how this was playing out so far.

  As soon as we entered the living room, Allsop said, “Mister and Mrs. Racine, please stand up.”

  “What?” Theresa said.

  “It’s all right, honey,” Don said soothingly, rising to his feet and lifting her with him from the sofa. “We have nothing to hide. Let’s just cooperate and get it all over with.”

  “Mr. Racine, please step away from your wife.”

  “Okay…” Puzzled, he did so.

  Allsop turned to the uniform. “We found Ketamine and syringes in the barn. Since this is your jurisdiction, you get the collar.”

  “What? That’s impossible!” Theresa cried. “Or…the vet must have left it there!”

  The Pacifica PD officer removed handcuffs from his belt. “Theresa Racine, I’m arresting you on suspicion of murder. Please place your hands behind your back.”

  “No! I want my lawyer.”

  “You have the right to remain silent.” The officer continued to recite the Miranda advisement while placing the cuffs on an unresisting Theresa Racine.

  Don looked concerned but not too distressed. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll have our lawyer at the station before you get there. He’ll have you out on bail in no time.” He went to pick up the phone on a nearby table. As Theresa was being led away, he spoke loudly to the person on the other end, presumably his attorney.

  When he’d finished, Allsop said, “She’ll be all right, Mr. Racine. Pacifica isn’t Oakland.”

  “Pacifica’s Crime Scene Unit will be here soon, Mr. Racine,” I spoke up, putting a hand on my former partner’s arm to warn him to silence. “Will you be all right till then?”

  My fingers dug into Allsop’s skin as I could feel him take a breath to protest. Cops don’t leave a crime scene unattended, especially with the close relative of a suspect there…but this time we would.

  “Sure, I’ll be fine. I have some other calls to make. I know some powerful people that can help.”

  “All right, then we’ll leave it to the locals.” I practically had to drag my former partner out the door and down the front walk.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Allsop hissed. “He’s going to run straight to the barn and dispose of the evidence.”

  “Then let’s go make sure he doesn’t,” I replied, hurrying along the property line out of sight of the front door. We crossed a low fence and skirted the pool, staying behind the Magnolia trees planted there until we approached the barn. Circling it from the rear, I led Allsop to a large window, left open for the comfort of the horses.

  Just in time, we saw Don enter from the main door and turn on the lights. We faded back slightly to avoid being seen. The sea breeze rushing into the hills made enough noise to cover small sounds.

  I pulled out a compact digital camera and began snapping pictures. “He already gave us permission to search, so this is all admissible,” I breathed into Allsop’s ear.

  He nodded, watching as Don walked straight over to the drawer with the syringes and Ketamine. The tall man slid it open, looked inside for a moment, and then closed it without touching anything there.

  “What the hell?” Allsop muttered. “He knew…”

  “Take out your weapon and watch,” I said quietly, removing my Glock from its holster.

  Without further delay, Don walked past the two horses, which whickered restlessly. At a piece of the rough-boarded wall, he reached his finger through a natural knothole and pulled. One section two feet wide popped outward on high-tech hinges.

  He stepped through and pulled it closed after him.

  I raced along to the side of the barn to the door and entered, ahead of Allsop by virtue of being twenty years younger and in a lot better shape. Pointing at the false wall, I raised my weapon in a one-handed grip, a small bright flashlight braced beneath it in the other.

  “You’re not a cop anymore, Cal. I go through first.”

  “You’re also a crappy shot, Jay, and I’m wearing a vest under this blouse.” I slapped my chest. “Are you?”

  “Shit,” he muttered, and reached for the knothole.

  When the wood swung out of the way I saw a short, narrow corridor that dead-ended at what I thought was the corner of the barn. I strode forward, weapon close and ready. Allsop’s breathing told me he was right behind.

  At the corner I peeked around to the right, spotting a door just three feet away. Switching off my light, the blackness became near absolute. No light showed in cracks around the jamb or beneath, telling me it was sealed tightly. The configuration of the corridor and the lightproof and probably soundproof door told me what I needed to know.

  With my flashlight back on, I let Allsop see the situation, and then passed it to him. I had to have a hand free to open the door.

  “He must have light inside,” I said quietly. “I’ll go right, you go straight. If we can see, drop the flashlight and we take him down. Just don’t shoot the girl.”

  “Girl?”

  “Angela.”

  “What –”

  “No time. Answers come later. On three,” I said. “One, two, three.”

  At the signal, I opened the door and turned to my right, weapon swinging with my line of vision. The space was small, only about eight by twelve, and I saw Don with his back to me, kneeling atop a single bed. I barely had time to notice the leather straps and chains bolted to the wall, the portable toilet in the corner, the sour stench of fear.

  At first I thought Don was raping the girl whose feet I could see sticking out from under him. Then I saw the pillow gripped in his big strong hands, his full weight on it.

  “Get off her, now!” I yelled at the top of my lungs and pointed my weapon.

  Don looked over his shoulder, his face twisted in an inhuman mask of effort, ignoring me with the intensity of concentration.

  Allsop didn’t hesitate. The sound of his .38 Special smote my ears, leaving them ringing, and a hole blossomed in Don’s ribs. He gasped and sagged, his hands falling nerveless from the pillow.

  I holstered my weapon and grabbed Don, dragging him off Angela and the bed to crash onto the floor. Allsop covered the big man while I cleared the pillow and bedclothes from off Angela. Her body was handcuffed to the bedframe.

  I checked her pulse and put my ear to her lips. “She’s not breathing,” I said, and immediately began CPR. A long, tense moment later she gasped and coughed, flailing.

  “Angela. Angela, it’s all right. You’re safe now,” I said, holding her until she came to her senses. When she’d calmed down, I used my multi-tool to pop the handcuffs. Soon, Angela sobbed in my arms. I tried to comfort her, but after coming that close to death she’d need a lot more than a hug.

  Even with the bruises and looking a wreck, I could see she had that rare sex appeal that women would die to have and men would kill for. Not a blessing, perhaps, but a curse.

  No wonder her father was protective.

  “Dammit, no service in here,” Allsop said, shaking his phone as if that would help. “Must be shielded.” He left Don cuffed and bleeding on the floor for long enough to run outside and call Pacifica PD, telling them the situation. It wasn’t long before EMTs were loading Angela into an ambulance while another unit treated Don’s gunshot wound.

  “You held out on me,” Allsop accused me as we watched CSU do its work, neighbors craning to look over their fences at the scene. “You might have got that girl killed.”

  “All I had were suspicions, and Jay, you’re a really bad actor. If I’d told you, Don would have picked up on it. As it was, he led us straight to her.”

  He rubbed his temples. “We’re damn lucky he didn’t just put a bullet in her i
nstead of using a pillow.”

  “Gunshots make a mess. I’m actually surprised he decided to kill her right then.” Allsop was right, in a way. The safest thing would have been apprehending him as soon as he opened that panel, but he might have been armed and we’d have had a gunfight at close range. Surprising him had seemed the smart play, but it had almost gone wrong. I clasped my hands together to hide the adrenaline reaction.

  “What didn’t you tell me?” Allsop asked.

  “Nothing you couldn’t have figured out for yourself. You thought jealousy had driven the wife to murder Corrine, but why leave the needle? It was one more clue that could have been disposed of.”

  “A frame, then. Pointing straight to Theresa.”

  “Not too straight, not too obvious. Don was pretty smart. He takes a morning jog from his office like he often does, straight to Corrine’s apartment. She lets him in. They start making out on the bed and he slips the needle in, slams the Ketamine straight to her brain. She’s dead within seconds.”

  “But why kill her at all?”

  I rubbed my face, feeling weariness creeping up. “Corrine was pressing him for more, I bet. More time, more attention. She would have been the first prisoner if Don hadn’t seen Angela and become obsessed. That signed her death warrant.”

  “What about the struggle in the bathroom?”

  “There was no struggle. It was Bowser.”

  “The tomcat?”

  I nodded. “Think about it. Don shows up at the door unexpectedly. Corrine puts Bowser in the bathroom. He hears a man’s voice or maybe smells him and goes nuts, knocking things over. Corrine can’t relax with the cat so upset, so she takes him to the nice neighbor lady. When she returns, she doesn’t bother to clean up the mess. Don has limited time for their tryst and she knows it. They’ve been doing this for months, probably. He was giving her gifts, too. The new TV, the new fridge. Probably promising her he’d marry her as soon as he divorced Theresa.”

  Allsop snorted. “Like that would ever happen.”

  “No. The next step would have been his playroom. It was built recently, probably step by step during his ‘chores’ in the barn. Maybe Don would drop Theresa off, secure in knowing she didn’t have a car, and drive home to work on it.”