LET'S PLAY (Det. Jason Strong(CLEAN SUSPENSE Book 10)

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LET'S PLAY (Det. Jason Strong(CLEAN SUSPENSE Book 10) Page 2

by John C. Dalglish


  “Do you remember anything different about that grave?”

  Nathan fidgeted slightly. “What do you mean by ‘different’?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Was the dirt disturbed? Did it look like someone may have been around the grave during the night?”

  Nathan seemed to understand what Vanessa was getting at. “You mean did it look like someone had buried a body in it before the funeral?”

  “That’s an interesting theory, Nathan. Yeah, do think someone might have done that?”

  Nathan cast a glance at Jason, looking for someone who wasn’t quite so suspicious, but found no help. “You don’t think I had anything to do with that body, do you?”

  “Right now, we’ve just got a body, and we’re not sure how it got there. Is it possible that you made a mistake and buried one over top of another?”

  “No! I mean, I don’t know how that could happen. I work from the map given me by the cemetery board. They tell me where to dig, and besides, I’ve never buried a body without a box.”

  The sweat running down the young man’s face was making clean rivers through the dirt. They were standing in the shade, but it was warm. Vanessa couldn’t decide if the sweat was from her questions or the heat.

  “Can you give us the number to the cemetery board?”

  “Sure, sure.”

  Nathan gave it from memory, and Jason wrote it down. He also recorded the name ‘Elizabeth Fulton,’ who Nathan said was the cemetery board president.

  Vanessa decided she was finished for now. “Thanks for your help, Nathan. We’ll be in touch.”

  The young man nodded and walked back to his machine.

  Jason gave Vanessa a smile. “Good work. You got him off balance nicely.”

  “Thank you, sir. I learned from the best.”

  “Very kind of you to say so.”

  “I was referring to Captain Patton.”

  Jason laughed. “You suck!”

  Vanessa pointed at him as she got back in the car. “Got ya!”

  Chapter 2

  The San Antonio River Walk was a winding trail, running from the Mission area on the south, to the San Antonio Zoo in the north. It was nearly fifteen linear miles of trail, used mostly by locals, except for the downtown section. What most visitors associated with the name River Walk was the section of the San Antonio River that looped off the main arm, over by The Alamo, and back again.

  Restaurants, bars, tour boats, and shops all lined that area and attracted tourists year round. The last of the bars closed their doors at two in the morning, and the walk filled with a late-night rush of traffic, as partiers found their way to the vehicles that brought them. By then, cabs were lined up to bring people home, and the cleanup crew was busy emptying trashcans, riding motorized sweepers, and preparing the Walk for the next day’s visitors.

  Jennifer Landers was one of the last to leave the RainTree Restaurant and Bar, partly because she’d stayed to talk to the cute guy in the surfer shorts, and partly because she couldn’t find her girlfriend. The guy in the shorts was the same one Tammy-Jo was talking to the last time Jennifer saw her. He said he didn’t know where Tammy-Jo went.

  Being Tammy-Jo’s ride back to the hotel, Jennifer didn’t want to leave her friend behind. Several calls to Tammy’s phone had gone to voicemail.

  Jennifer walked carefully, swaying slightly, and checked each bench for her friend. It made sense Tammy-Jo would be waiting somewhere along the path to the car, but Jennifer was almost halfway to parking lot, and still no sign of her friend.

  She spotted a worker emptying trashcans and wandered over, tapping him on the shoulder. “Hey.”

  The man, taller than Jennifer, wore a tan jumpsuit that zippered in front and bore the River Walk logo. He turned, startled by her approach from behind.

  “Oh…hey yourself.”

  He looked to be in his late thirties, with shoulder length brown hair, and a beard already showing flecks of gray. His tone was friendly, but his eyes refused to meet hers.

  Jennifer plopped down on the bench next to the garbage can he was emptying. “I’m looking for my friend and I wondered if maybe you saw her.”

  “There’s a lot of people who come through here.”

  “Yeah, I know, but she’s really cute. You would have noticed her.”

  “Really cute, huh?” He dropped the lid onto the can, a fresh bag inside. “Oh, well, that’s different!”

  He smiled, and realizing she was being teased, Jennifer giggled. She looked closely at the uniform and found his name. “Very funny, Anthony. I’m serious; I’m starting to get worried.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. What does she look like?”

  Jennifer rose unsteadily to her feet. “She’s about the same height as me, has blonde shoulder length hair, and big green eyes. She was wearing a pink blouse with black jeans.”

  Anthony shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ve seen her.”

  Jennifer pouted. “What should I do now?”

  “Well, you can report it to the police.”

  “I guess.”

  “Is it possible she got a ride with someone else?”

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “Maybe she’s at home now.”

  “We’re visiting.”

  “Oh, then maybe she’s back at the hotel.”

  Jennifer was unconvinced. “Maybe. I guess I’ll go there and check. Have a nice night, Anthony.”

  “You, too.” He grabbed his trash cart and pushed it toward his next stop. “Be careful.”

  Jennifer, becoming increasingly wobbly, climbed the old stone steps on the west end of the River Walk, and crossed the road to where her car was parked. Hoping to find Tammy-Jo next to the car, she was disappointed to see no sign of her friend. Again, she tried the phone, and got the voicemail.

  “Tammy-Jo, you better call me! I am so going to hurt you if you’re ignoring my calls!”

  She hung up, teetered in place awkwardly, and decided driving wasn’t a good idea. Making her way over to where the taxis were lined up, she got in the one at the head of the line.

  “Evening,” the driver said in a raspy voice as he cranked over the fare meter. “Where to?”

  “The Days Inn on East Houston Street, please.”

  “You got it.” The cab slowly pulled away from the curb.

  Jennifer looked at the cabbie license, jammed into a clear plastic pocket hanging over the front seat in front of her. Ricardo Bonitez was thirty-nine, and had been driving a cab for two years. The picture could be better described as a mug shot, his round face covered with heavy stubble, and his thick eyebrows hanging over brown eyes.

  “Have you been driving all night?”

  His gaze flicked across to the rearview mirror, then back to the road. “Since seven this evening.”

  “I don’t suppose you took another girl out to the Days Inn tonight, did you?”

  He gave the question careful consideration before answering. “No…I haven’t had any other fares in that direction.”

  Jennifer slumped back into the seat. “I didn’t figure.”

  “Are you missing somebody?”

  “Yeah. I’m not sure where my girlfriend is.”

  Bonitez leered into the rearview mirror. “Oh, you have a girlfriend, eh?”

  Jennifer was caught by surprise, and instantly revolted. “No…No! She’s my best friend, we’re on vacation together.”

  “Oh, very sorry; I misunderstood.”

  Tammy-Jo had insisted on staying farther away from the River Walk to save money. Their room at the Days Inn was a third as much as a hotel downtown. It was only a ten-minute drive, but Jennifer suddenly couldn’t wait to get out of the cab. As soon as they pulled up, she gave the driver a twenty and headed for her room. She didn’t wait for change.

  Still feeling the effects of the alcohol, she fumbled with the key for more than a minute before finally getting in. “Tammy-Jo?”

  The room was empty. Jennifer checked the bath
room, and then flopped backward on the bed. “Tammy-Jo, where are you?”

  For the umpteenth time, she tried her friend’s cell phone. As it had before, it went to voicemail. She closed her phone, and without realizing it, her eyes. She was out cold in a flash.

  *******

  Tammy-Jo Cousins screamed. Once, twice, and then a third time. “HELP!”

  It was pointless. The sound bounced off the inside of the padded box and back at her.

  She punched at the lid, unable to straighten her arms to push, but it was solid. She only had a small beam of light, near her feet, from an air hole. The claustrophobic box brought on waves of nausea mixed with panic, and tears flowed down the sides of her face to the fabric beneath.

  When she had first been put inside, naked from the waist down after being raped, there was a smell she couldn’t identify. A strong, sickening, metallic odor. It finally dawned on her what it was; blood.

  Not hers, she wasn’t cut as far as she knew, but old blood. Dried blood. Someone else’s blood.

  Not knowing whoever or whatever left the blood, it served to trigger her brain that she might be the next to leave behind a similar stain. Paralyzing fear raked at her consciousness, as she struggled to push thoughts of how the blood got there out of her mind.

  One of the first things her captor did, before driving to the house, was pull the battery out of her cell phone. Jennifer would be calling and getting no answer, and she hoped her friend was out there searching, but fear told Tammy-Jo she might be found too late.

  She pleaded a silent message. Please, Jennifer, get help. Call the cops! Please!

  The desperation of her own thoughts started a new wave of tears, and she closed her eyes, trying to shut out her insane reality.

  *******

  The next morning, Jason and Vanessa arrived at the station at the same time, and rode the elevator to the third floor. Homicide took up the entire floor, but their desks were positioned only a few feet from the office of Lieutenant Sarah Banks, and they were always first on her radar. This morning, her door was closed and Jason wondered if the lieutenant was late again.

  Banks had always been one to show up early for her shift, but a new boyfriend had changed priorities for her, and now she merely came in on time.

  Jason was happy for Sarah, and even made light of it when it first happened.

  “Alarm not working these days, Lieutenant?”

  Her look froze Jason in place and sent Vanessa ducking behind the newspaper.

  “Pardon?”

  Jason had flipped open a file to hide behind. “Nothing.”

  Banks laughed. “You chicken! My alarm works fine, I just didn’t think I needed to be here so early to babysit you two.”

  Vanessa had poked her head up. “Right you are, Lieutenant. We can get to work without being told.”

  Banks had continued on to her office. “That’s what I thought.”

  When she closed the door, Jason had dropped the file folder. “Brown-nose!”

  Vanessa laughed. “Just because you stepped in it, doesn’t mean I have to dive in after you.”

  He’d not made the same mistake since.

  As the two detectives sat down, Jason’s phone rang. “Detective Strong, Homicide.”

  “Jason, this is Doc Josie.”

  “Hey, Doc. What’s up?”

  “Have you got a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  “Come on down here then, will ya?”

  “Okay, see you shortly.”

  *******

  Jason and Vanessa rode the elevator to the basement, turning right as they exited, and pushing through the glass doors leading to the Forensic Science Department. Doc Josie was waiting in her office and waved at them. “In here.”

  Jason took a chair in front of the doc while Vanessa chose to stand in the doorway. Doc Josie looked up at the female detective. “Do you mind coming in and shutting the door?”

  Though surprised, Vanessa complied with the request. She leaned back against the closed door.

  The doc would usually greet them with a smile, but it was missing this morning, as she opened the file sitting on the desk in front of her.

  “I’ve got an ID on the remains from San Isidro. You’re not going to believe it.”

  She slid a photo across the desk as Vanessa took a seat next to Jason. Doc Josie waited while the detectives studied the photo. Vanessa was the first to realize it.

  “Is that…?”

  Doc nodded. “I matched the dental records this morning.”

  Jason looked from one woman to the other. “Am I missing something?”

  Doc slid a second photo in front of Jason, this one from a missing persons poster. Jason looked up at Josie. “Really?”

  “Really; Melinda Gomez. She was the first girl associated with the River Walk Missing.”

  Jason picked up the poster and scanned the information. Melinda Gomez was a pretty twenty-three-year-old, with short brown hair and brown eyes, who had gone missing six months ago. Last seen around closing time on Saturday, December 16, she’d been visiting from Houston and never returned to her hotel room.

  “How many have gone missing now?”

  “Three. None had been found until now.”

  “Do we have a cause of death?”

  “I believe Doc Davis is just finishing the autopsy, so you might get to see some of it.”

  Vanessa snorted. “Oh, goody!”

  Doc Josie laughed, then immediately turned serious again. “I’ve made Captain Patton aware of what I just told you. He wants a tight rein on information and only those who need to know are to be told for now. The Missing are an extremely sensitive subject.”

  Vanessa stood up. “Politically?”

  “Yes, and economically.”

  Jason was surprised. “You don’t usually get involved in that kind of stuff, Doc.”

  “I know, but the order for discretion had come down several months ago. Anything tied to the Missing needed to be run directly up the chain to the captain first.”

  Vanessa refused to hide her cynicism. “Yeah, because we don’t want any news getting out that would hurt tourism, even if the families could have closure.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir, Vanessa,” Doc closed the folder and handed it to Jason. “Nonetheless, I’d prefer to keep my job.”

  Jason passed the folder to his partner. “Me too.”

  “Whatever.” Vanessa scowled, and then laughed. “Me too.”

  They left the office and went directly across the hall to the den of the Medical Examiner. They found Doc Davis hunched over a table, a lighted magnifying lens in front of his face, peering down into the skull on the table. The big man was past retirement age but showed no signs of slowing down. Jason was sure the doc could out-work his new assistant despite being nearly three decades older.

  “Hey, Doc.”

  He didn’t look up from his studying. “Hi, Jason. Layne with you?”

  Vanessa laughed. “Yup, Layne’s with him.”

  “Good, you two come over here.”

  Jason and Vanessa exchanged looks, but did as they were asked. Jason led the way. “What you got, Doc?”

  Doc Davis leaned back, away from the magnifier which sat poised over a skull, now cleaned of all remaining flesh. “Look through there.”

  Jason did. “What am I looking at?”

  Doc didn’t answer. “You too, Vanessa.”

  Jason backed up and was replaced by Vanessa. She looked, then stood up quickly. “Same question as Jason. What are we looking at?”

  “Cause of death for the victim. It appears to be a blow from the head of a hammer.”

  Jason looked again. “How can you tell?”

  “See the round impact location?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And the symmetrical fracturing around the hole that leads away from the wound?”

  Jason stood up. “Yeah.”

  “That’s consistent with a round blunt object, like a hamm
er head, delivered with a large amount of force. That means a murder, not an accident, was covered up by the burial.”

  “What about the cause of death? Can you tell if the victim was alive when she was buried?”

  Doc Davis stripped off his gloves and washed his hands at the sink next to the body. He was shaking his head. “There wasn’t enough lung tissue left to tell if she inhaled dirt or not.”

  Vanessa shuddered and Jason figured she was thinking the same thing as him.

  I hope she wasn’t buried alive.

  Chapter 3

  Jennifer approached the front desk of the San Antonio police station, her nervousness outweighed by her worry. Tammy-Jo had not come back to the hotel that morning, and calls to her phone still went unanswered. Jennifer had no doubt her friend was in trouble.

  “Excuse me.”

  An officer turned around. He was short with gray hair and kind eyes, and his badge identified him as Sergeant Connor. “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so. I need to report a missing person.”

  “I see.” The sergeant sat down and drew a paper from the stack to his right. “Who is the person you’re reporting?”

  “My friend, Tammy-Jo Cousins.”

  “How long has she been missing?”

  “I haven’t seen or heard from her since last night.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  Sergeant Connor looked up at her. “We normally don’t consider someone missing after just twelve hours.”

  “But she is missing! I know it.” Tears started down her cheeks and the officer seemed anxious to comfort her. “It’s okay. Do you think your friend is in trouble?”

  Jennifer struggled to control herself. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re here on vacation, just the two of us, and she wouldn’t have left me alone without talking to me.”

  The sergeant seemed to pause, as if deciding what to do next. “Where did you last see your friend?”

  “At the RainTree Restaurant.”

  “Which one? There’s a couple here in the city.”

  “The one on the River Walk.”

 

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