by Gerri Hill
“You must be Kayla Dixon,” the deputy said with a smile. “I remember you from school.”
Kayla smiled back, not recognizing the young man at all. Even his last name—Capers—didn’t sound familiar. “Yes, I’m Kayla. I’m sorry, I don’t remember you.”
“Don’t imagine so. Todd Capers. I was a freshman when you were a senior.” He looked over at Murphy and nodded. “Officer Murphy, right? I’ve heard Gloria talk about you.”
Murphy’s expression remained blank as she motioned with her head. “Where are the bodies?”
“Way back along the lane, down by the swimming hole.”
So maybe this Gloria and Murphy were closer than Murphy let on, if Deputy Capers knew about their…what? Relationship? Affair? Dating habits? Well, it wasn’t any of her business, she told herself. Besides, if she was that curious about it, she should just come right out and ask Murphy what was going on. Again…it wasn’t any of her business. It was probably better left alone anyway. They worked together. They were becoming friends. That should be enough. Surely she’d learned her lesson with Jennifer.
“I can’t believe you used to swim in this,” Murphy said.
She glanced at the creek, the brownish water not looking inviting in the least. “I don’t remember it being that color when I was a kid,” she said with a laugh. “A swimming hole was a swimming hole. But now? There’s no way in hell I’d get in the water.”
They saw the group standing near the edge of the woods and lane, her father’s white Stetson making him easy to spot. Most turned to look as they approached and she wasn’t really shocked to see a female among them. This must be Gloria Mendez. She didn’t need to see her name on the uniform to know. The look, the smile she gave Murphy was enough to clue her in. And yes, that look said that they were more than friends.
Damn.
Murphy, however, remained professional in her demeanor, getting right to work. “How were they killed?” she asked of no one in particular.
“Each shot in the head,” one of the deputies said.
The bodies were lying face down, their hands tied behind their back.
“Execution style,” she murmured.
“The male, Mr. Niemeyer, also has what appears to be a knife wound on his side here.”
“If you’ve already taken your photos, I’d like to turn them over,” Murphy said. “With permission, of course.”
The man standing next to her father—Sheriff Ramsey—nodded. “Yeah, I know you were a homicide detective back in Houston. Any help, we’ll take.” He looked the same as the last time Kayla had seen him…a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers, the ash growing long as if he’d forgotten it was there.
“I done told the sheriff here that we need to have a joint investigation. We’ve got two killings within the city limits, now this. All of them prominent people in town. No sense in us all going off in different directions.”
She was surprised her father had offered, but knowing him, the joint investigation would involve them working the case and only sharing what they deemed necessary—or as little as possible—with Sheriff Ramsey.
She squatted down beside Murphy as she turned the mayor over onto his back. His shirt was bloody from multiple stab wounds.
“Wounds meant to inflict pain but not kill,” Murphy said quietly with a quick glance at her.
“Torture?” Yes, maybe their killer wanted information. Like the names of who all had double-crossed him. Like her Uncle Ned. She glanced up at her father, but his stare was solely on the body.
“There was nothing here at the scene,” a female voice said. A very pleasant female voice, she noted. “No shell casings. They weren’t dragged. They were made to walk.”
“Where was the killer’s vehicle parked?” Murphy asked.
“Hard to say. Bubba Howard drove right up here,” Sheriff Ramsey said. “And of course, he trampled around here too before calling us.”
“With all the leaves and pine needles down, it’s hard to make out tracks,” another deputy said.
“Any blood splatter?” she asked. “Was he stabbed here then shot or was he stabbed somewhere else?”
They all turned in circles, looking at the ground around them. She walked back toward the lane, trying to imagine where a car or truck would have been parked. As he’d said, there was too much ground cover to make out tracks. She found no blood. Neither did anyone else. She walked back to the circle in time to see Murphy turn Mrs. Niemeyer over. Unlike her husband, she had no other visible wounds other than the kill shot to the head.
“Look where they would have been standing,” Murphy said as she took a step back. “The area here around the female is mostly undisturbed. Whereas here, next to him, it’s trampled, the leaves scattered about, blood.” Murphy looked over at her again. “I think the killer shot the wife first. Then he toys with the mayor, stabbing him several times before killing him.”
She nodded. “If he stabs him while she’s still alive, she’s going to fight him, or try to, to save her husband. The ground would be disturbed.”
“Sounds great in theory, but that doesn’t really help us, does it?” Sheriff Ramsey said. “Like the other killings in town, this was likely done by a professional. Someone who knows what he’s doing. To find out who the hell he is, we need to find out why he was targeting these people.”
She looked at her father, meeting his gaze, but he remained silent. She and Murphy did as well.
“You’ve got the president of the bank, the mayor and his wife, and Lance Foster, probably the richest man in town,” the sheriff continued.
“They all had money,” one of the deputies said.
“If he’s targeting rich men, makes me happy for my measly cop’s salary,” her father said, drawing laughs from the others. “I suppose Brett Newberry’s been called?”
The sheriff nodded. “The news will be all over town soon. And we got Guy’s funeral tomorrow. Lance will be laid to rest on Monday.” He looked at her father. “Not sure how much more of this people can take, Earl. You don’t have any suspects?”
“Our crime scenes looked like this one. Nothing but a goddamn body. Not any evidence left behind. Hell, Guy was shot from a distance. There wasn’t even a scene to speak of.”
“Well, they’re obviously linked somehow.”
“We’re working on that angle,” her father said. “Haven’t got anything concrete yet.”
“Well, they apparently all pissed off the same guy.”
“Makes you wonder if there are any others in town with a target on their back,” Gloria Mendez said, getting nods from her colleagues. She, Murphy and her father all remained expressionless.
Her father cleared his throat then, taking a step back. “Well, I guess we’re out of here. You’ll let me know when you get the coroner’s report, right?”
“Will do.” Then the sheriff shook his head. “We’re sure keeping those boys down at Montgomery busy. Damn. Now Billy N.” He shook his head again. “Earl, we better catch this bastard and soon or we’ll both be looking for a new line of work.”
“Well, if you look at it that way, Sheriff, we’re pretty safe. The three most powerful men in town are dead. Who’s going to run us out of office?”
“Except for Judge Peters, and he’s the one with the real power.”
“True. But both you and I know that he normally didn’t act without one of these fellas being in his ear. He might likely be lost now.”
She looked at Murphy, trying to read her expression. She hoped it was only nervousness that had them talking this way. There were too many people listening—unless the deputies were loyal to Sheriff Ramsey and wouldn’t dare dream of repeating any of this. She knew for a fact that if Tim Beckman was here, loyal to her father or not, this conversation would have been spread to his uncle as soon as they left the scene. Then Ray would have communicated it to whoever was playing dominoes at his store. Based on this line of thinking, Judge Peters might be the next one on the list.
She drew her brows together. If Judge Peters was such good buddies with these three men, did it stand to reason then that he was somehow involved in this drug business? Uncle Ned hadn’t mentioned his name, but…
“Well, we’ll get out of your hair,” her father said. “Keep me in the loop.”
“If you find a link, you’ll let me know, right?”
“You’ll be the first one I call.”
Kayla struggled not to roll her eyes at her father’s blatant lie. She and Murphy fell in line with him as they walked back down the lane to Mason Road. When they were out of earshot, her father glanced at her.
“What’s running through that pretty head of yours?”
She looked past him to Murphy. “And what’s running through yours?”
Murphy met her gaze. “Judge Peters.”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“What about him?”
“Hey…Murphy, wait up,” Gloria Mendez called from behind them.
“Be right back,” Murphy said to them, pausing to meet Kayla’s gaze for a second. “I’ll catch up.”
Kayla had to prevent herself from turning around and watching them. Their conversation was too muted for her to hear. She sighed and continued walking.
“So are they an item or what?” her father asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You’ve been riding with her for several days now…you don’t talk?”
“They’ve gone out to dinner, I think,” she conceded. “Why? What do you know?”
“Hell, I don’t know anything. I got enough to worry about without keeping tabs on who’s dating who,” he said. “Now, back to Peters. What are you thinking?”
“Maybe he’s involved too. I know Uncle Ned didn’t mention him, but maybe—”
“I’ll ask Ned. But doing drug business with your buddies is one thing…getting a goddamn county judge involved is a completely different animal all together.”
“I suppose,” she said. She glanced behind them, seeing Murphy heading in their direction. “It’s something to consider, though. He may need protection.”
“Yeah…I’m glad you brought that up.” He paused as Murphy joined them. “You through jibber jabbering with that gal?”
“Yes. Sorry,” she said.
“I got a job for the two of you.” He held his hand up. “And I don’t want any feedback or smart comments,” he said, looking at her. “I’ve made this decision and it’s the best one.”
She sighed. Now what?
He looked around them, seeing some of the deputies coming back. “We’ll talk in my office. Let’s go.”
He headed to his car without another word, and she looked at Murphy, both of them shrugging at the same time.
“He’s your father. What do you think’s on his mind?”
“At this point, I’m afraid to even guess.” She got behind the wheel. “He doesn’t seem convinced that Judge Peters is involved, but he said he’d ask Uncle Ned.”
“It would be quite risky for a judge,” Murphy said. “There’s corruption then there’s corruption. With the amount of drugs they’ve been moving through here, that’s dealing with the big boys, not some small-time amateur drug dealers. I can’t see them allowing a county judge to get involved.”
“You’re probably right.” She glanced over at her. “What do you think about calling in help?”
“Help?” Murphy’s eyebrows rose. “You mean FBI?” She shook her head. “There’s no way your father would go for that.”
“Would you?”
“You know how I feel about the FBI.”
“I know. And I don’t mean have them come in and take over the case. But they have resources. If Niemeyer Trucking was used to bring the drugs to Sawmill Springs, they could retrace the route.”
“We can do that too. All we need is a warrant for his records.”
She sighed. “You’re right. It goes back to resources though. We need someone who can compile the records, sort them, throw them in a database or something and spit out the information.”
“Not used to doing legwork, huh?”
She shook her head. “I’m used to calling Kabir. He was my go-to computer geek. He could hack into anything.”
Murphy pretended to be shocked. “Now don’t tell me the FBI did some illegal hacking.”
She smiled. “Of course not. I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”
It wasn’t until they got back into town that she mentioned Gloria Mendez. It wasn’t any of her business, no, but she couldn’t hold back the questions any longer.
“So…that was Gloria, huh? She’s cute.”
Murphy nodded but said nothing else.
“So…got a date or something? I mean, she sought you out. Or was it about the case?”
Murphy laughed lightly. “No, it wasn’t about the case. She wanted to know my schedule, when my off-days were.”
“Oh. So…got a date?” she asked again.
“She’s got some friends from college coming to visit. She wanted me to join them for dinner.”
“Sounds like fun,” she lied.
Murphy laughed. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Okay, no, it doesn’t. She’s young. I remember when I still wanted to hang out with my college friends.”
When they pulled into the station, Murphy turned to her, her dark eyes looking into her own. “So to answer your not-so-subtle questions, no, I don’t have plans with her.”
Kayla hoped she wasn’t blushing. “I guess with this case and all…”
“Right.”
Chapter Twenty
Murphy stood next to Kayla, watching as Earl locked his office door behind them. When he said that he wanted to keep things between the three of them, he wasn’t kidding. He also got right to the point.
“You two are going to be on protection detail. And as I said out there in the woods, I don’t need any comments.”
Kayla was the one to speak first. “Okay,” she said a bit hesitantly. “So what’s the detail?”
He stared at them for a moment. “Something ain’t right about this whole thing. I don’t think we’re looking for your mysterious Mr. X. I think it’s a local who’s been doing the killing.”
She and Kayla looked at each other. He’d been insistent since the beginning that there was no way in hell that a local could be involved. Why now? But Kayla seemed to be on the same page as her father.
“Because only a local would know about the place on Mill Creek,” she said, causing her father to nod.
“Even if you’re driving around, looking for a secluded place to do your killing, you’re not going to find that old swimming hole without directions,” he said. “A local would have known Guy Woodard’s habit of stopping for gas on Mondays. A local would have known Lance Foster rarely left his office before six and would have known that Lou Ann left at five sharp every day.”
“So you’re suggesting there’s another player in this game besides the four of them? Your brother didn’t mention any other names. If Lance and Guy were skimming off the top, you’ve got an angry drug dealer,” she said.
“I’m not saying this drug dealer is not involved. He’s probably the one giving the order to kill, but my gut says he’s not the one doing it.”
“So protection detail?” Kayla prompted.
“Ned. Out at the cabin.”
Kayla shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”
“Look, Chief—”
He held his hand up. “It’s not really up for discussion, but if it makes you feel better, Ned’s not exactly thrilled about it either. I told him we could either do it my way or bring him in here and guard him at the station.”
“I think the station would probably be safer and definitely more appropriate,” Kayla said.
“I’m not hauling my brother in like he’s some common criminal.”
“Well, not to state the obvious,” Murphy said, “but he did confess to drug trafficking.”
Earl turned and stared at her, his eyes narrowing.
“Just sayin’…”
“Might just be for a few days,” he said, ignoring her comment.
“Dad…Murphy and I are the lead on this. There are so many things we should be doing. Pulling phone records…”
“Financials,” she added.
“Credit card details,” Kayla said. “We need to get a warrant for Niemeyer Trucking so we can look at their records and try to trace the drug path. And you want us to be stuck out in the woods on protection detail?”
“Couldn’t Tim and someone else do it?” Murphy asked.
“I said this wasn’t up for discussion,” he said loudly. “You’ll do as I say, goddamn it. I’m the chief, the boss.” He pointed at them. “You two are officers. Hell, I could say you’re both still on probation, so I certainly don’t need any kind of pushback from you.” He tapped his chest. “I’m in charge. And when we catch this son of a bitch, then and only then will I deal with this drug mess that my brother is mixed up in. Because right now, all I’m trying to do is keep his ass alive.”
Murphy remained silent and Kayla finally nodded. “Okay. You’re the boss. You want us guarding him instead of digging for evidence, that’s what we’ll do.”
“Look, I know what all we need to do. I know we need a warrant to pull records. Kimbro is our computer guy. He’s good. I’ll have him look into what you want. Phone records and such.”
“Financials,” Kayla said. “Starting at the bank.”
“Yes, okay. He can do all that. But I want you two out at the cabin. I don’t trust anyone else to keep my brother safe. Right now, that’s all I’m concerned with.”
* * *
“This is so wrong,” she said for the second time as she followed Kayla down an aisle in the grocery store.
“If we’re going to be stuck there for a few days, I refuse to live off chips and bean dip,” Kayla said with a glance at Murphy’s contribution to their basket.
