“I hear windchimes and talk to a dead Indian Shaman. Who am I to judge? Maybe we’re both bat shit insane.”
“Really? Windchimes? Do you hear them now?” she asked, as she could sense Timothy Blackhawk still near. Where Elizabeth went, he seemed to follow. It was like he was attached to her from the great beyond.
She laughed. “No, when I’m thinking or talking to Timothy, I sometimes hear them. That’s how I know he’s here. I’ve been practicing Shamanism.”
“You? A religion?” she asked.
That was more shocking than the windchimes, or that she’d admit it.
“Yeah, I want my kids to know their heritage, and the men…they don’t do religion.”
Tori thought about it. “Is that why you didn’t freak out?”
“I found one of Timothy’s old books. It was his spirit quests. He wrote about how he would talk to the dead, so who am I to mock it when I’m trying to learn it to teach my kids?”
She had a point.
“I like this kinder, gentler you.”
She snorted. “Yeah, don’t get used to her. The odds aren’t in your favor. The meaner version will boot her out as soon as she gets her bearings back.”
They pulled into a parking lot and stared at the building. It was shiny, metal, and it was going to be home to one hell of a pompous asshole. She could already tell.
“Are you ready for the fun?” Elizabeth asked, as she turned off the ignition.
“I sure am. I’ll take notes. You do the dance.”
Elizabeth was good with that.
That’s how she liked to roll.
Inside, the secretary stood her ground.
Well, that was until Elizabeth pulled out her badge and threatened to have the place locked down tighter than a virgin on her wedding night eve.
“Where is Mr. Raymond’s office?” she asked.
“At the top of the stairs, but he hasn’t come down here today. When I got here, I just started to work.”
Elizabeth didn’t give a shit.
Tori either.
“We need to talk to him.”
“Head up,” she stated, pointing at the glass elevator. “It will take you right to his door. I’ll buzz him, he is NOT going to enjoy the interruption. He’s a busy man.”
Tori rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, well, the taxpayers insist I don’t take forty weeks to solve a case, so my timeline trumps his.”
The woman sighed.
Whatever.
They needed to get this done.
As they walked toward the elevator, Elizabeth was wondering one thing. “What the hell did Shelby get on him?” she asked. “I mean, we all know they didn’t hang out together.”
“I have no idea,” Tori stated. “It’s a mystery inside a mystery.”
Yeah, it was.
That was turning out to be one of the big questions on this case.
Riding up, they waited for the stop at his floor. When the door opened, it accessed what looked like another lobby, but this time without a secretary to babysit them.
Well, at least there was that.
Heading in, Elizabeth pulled her badge from her pocket and got ready to do the dance.
“Fredrick Raymond! This is Director Elizabeth Whitefox-Blackhawk! We need to speak to you.”
There was no answer.
Tori shrugged.
“It’s regarding the death of Shelby Christensen. You may be part of an ongoing case.”
Still nothing.
They headed toward the man’s personal space and pushed open the door. Once inside, Elizabeth and Tori both knew what was going to be waiting for them.
There was the smell of bowel and blood.
His.
Hanging from his ceiling fan, by a noose, was the man. He was inches from the top of his desk, a chair laying on the floor beside him.
“Well, he really didn’t want to talk to us,” Elizabeth stated, as she checked out the scene.
“You think?” Tori asked.
Great.
They had a dead man and one hell of a question.
Who killed him?
The killer?
Or himself?
This was a problem.
One giant one.
* * * L i t t l e m o o n * * *
Across Town
Xavier Lake’s
Home
Julian and Callen were ready to get down to business. Once at the man’s door, they knocked and waited to see if he’d answer for them. The cops had struck out, but they didn’t look like cops.
Well, unless the man was big on watching TV. Then he’d know Callen was a Fed.
“I don’t hear him,” Julian offered.
“Yeah, me either. We should ‘check it out’,” he offered, wiggling his eyebrows.
“And you told your wife to behave,” Julian reminded him. “This is kinda the opposite.”
“She expects me to behave badly. It’s my MO.”
Hey, whatever. Julian was up for anything.
“Let’s just peek inside.”
The two men headed toward some windows. When they looked inside, some things didn’t seem right.
There were flies.
Lots.
And.
Lots of flies.
It didn’t make sense since it was pretty chilly outside. It was spring, but it wasn’t above fifty degrees in the sun.
Flies.
Chilly air.
The wrong season.
Callen and Julian both knew what that meant.
They had a dead body somewhere inside that house, and from the look of the blowflies, it was there for a few days.
How did the cops miss that?
“Second floor?” Callen offered, seeing a trellis and a screened window that was slightly open.
“I’ll go up,” Julian offered.
Callen stopped him. “Yeah, no. The police want to toss a Littlemoon or Christensen to the wolves. How about you let me do this, and we’ll go from there?”
He shrugged.
If the man wanted to play breaking and entering into a house full of blowflies, who was he to stop him?
He waved his hand. “I’ll be on the porch.”
Callen climbed the trellis, praying it held. As he got to the upper level, he reached for the one window that was open a little bit.
“Don’t fall and break your neck. Your wife will kick my ass if I bring the Indian back with a dent in the fender.”
He snorted. “I used to climb trees. I’m good.”
“In cowboy boots?” Julian asked.
“You can do everything in cowboy boots, including sex,” he teased, as he got the window open.
As soon as he did…it stunk to high freaking heaven.
Yeah, they definitely had a body. There was no refuting that fact.
“Cover me, I’m going in.”
Julian kept watch, praying that a cop didn’t show up out of the blue. They had the worst timing.
A few minutes went by when he saw him coming with his shirt sleeve pressed to his face.
Oh, yeah.
This was going to suck.
The door was opened, and Callen stepped outside.
“What’s in there?” Julian asked.
“A dead, rotting corpse.”
“Is it our missing guy?” he asked.
Callen stared at him.
Was he serious?
“Uh, I don’t know, but I know how we can find out,” he offered.
“How?”
“We call the cops and let them do the dirty work since this is technically, their case.”
Julian laughed.
That sounded about right.
And fair.
Tag, DFPD.
You get the shit mess for once.
Chapter Fourteen
Wednesday Mid-Morning
O h, the cops were not amused to get the phone call regarding the dead man—not in the least. When Detectives Woods and Bender rolled up to
the fancy attorney’s building, only to find the Fed who had threatened them and a Littlemoon, the shit hit the fan.
Big time.
Detective Bender immediately went off like a Roman candle on the Fourth of July, and he kept on going, spouting off all kinds of crap as he dug the hole.
She let him talk trash.
They let him get it all off his chest. There was no point arguing with stupid, and this was case in point.
The man wasn’t fit to be working a lost dog case, let alone one now with multiple victims.
Elizabeth leaned against the building and kept her cool the entire time. If she had a nail file, she would have given herself a damn manicure.
That’s how long the man kept bitching.
When she glanced over, Tori was beside her, and she looked about as disinterested as Elizabeth.
Finally, the man began wrapping it up.
What a jackwagon.
“Are you done?” Tori finally asked, and it only got the man started all over again.
“NO! I’m far from done. You Littlemoons are a pain in the ass! You show up, a scene happens, and now I have to deal with you two! There is no way you,” he said, pointing at Tori, “and you,” he accused, as he pointed at Elizabeth, “weren’t involved in this!”
Detective Arsen Woods let his partner go on and on. What the man didn’t realize was they were on camera. Arsen got the cue from Elizabeth when they walked up.
That’s why he wasn’t saying a solitary thing.
They had media recording, and she was giving the man enough noose to hang himself.
It was a simple plan, and it appeared to be working.
“Do you really want me to believe that you found some guy hanging from his office rafters by sheer luck? You want me to believe you just happened in and found Fredrick Raymond dead? There is no way he offed himself after taking out Shelby Christensen, and we all know that Beau is guilty as sin! We don’t need evidence to see that!”
Well, that about did it for a noose. The man had trussed himself up like a turkey on Thanksgiving Day.
Elizabeth cringed. “That’s going to hurt a whole lot, Detective.”
“What is?” he asked, glaring at her.
Now came the fun.
“Here’s a little rule of thumb when it comes to working with me or near me—in this case.”
He began getting redder because he didn’t get it. Well, he soon would, and he was about to wish himself back ten minutes earlier so he could use the dead attorney’s stapler to seal his big, yapping, pie-hole.
“I don’t think you’ve noticed this, but I always have media around me. Always. I can’t say jack shit about a case out loud in public for one reason—other than it’s really not the way to run an effective investigation. You know…too many chefs in the kitchen spoils the soup.”
He didn’t get it.
She pointed at the media about six feet away with their cameras rolling.
As if on cue, since they knew how she worked, they began shooting off rapid fire questions that were incredibly uncomfortable, toward the detective.
“Is Fredrick Raymond really dead?” one reporter shouted. “Are you saying he’s in that building and offed himself?”
She smiled at the detective. “Yeah, that’s gonna leave one hell of a mark.”
“Have you notified the family?” asked another.
Tori tsked him and shook her head. “Nope.”
“Is the FBI handling this case because the police don’t care about viable evidence?” a third whipped out.
Yeah, and there was the nail in the coffin for the man. Of everything he had said, that one was going to be the hole he couldn’t dig out of easily.
Good.
The man began sputtering like a boiling teakettle.
“Congrats, Detective Bender. You just told the media and everyone in Delta Falls what you’re working on inside this building. You blew your case wide open, but not in a good way. I’m glad I’m not responsible for this clusterfuck.”
He closed his eyes.
Arsen took this as his sign. It was time to move out of the limelight as he tried to save what was left of his investigation. He wasn’t at all shocked that the man went off. He wasn’t known for thinking before speaking—a must when you were a cop.
“You handle this mess,” Arsen stated. “I’m going to take our two body finders inside and question them.”
Honestly, he didn’t want to be around when the commissioner got his hands on Jamie.
The man was dead.
He’d pretty much told the media they didn’t need evidence. That was going to be ugly. If they were lucky, they’d still have jobs in the morning. The commissioner was three days past frustrated, and he was looking for a scapegoat to take the blame. Jamie Bender had offered them both up on the media altar.
Great.
“Follow me, ladies,” he stated.
Tori and Elizabeth were curious, so they did just that.
Once inside the building, Arsen took them somewhere private, so he could begin to ask them questions—not to interrogate him, but to find out what they knew.
“What happened?”
Tori, since she trusted him, explained.
“We came here to ask him some questions. With Elizabeth, he wouldn’t be able to avoid us.”
So far, he was with them.
“Well, Elizabeth used her badge to get us up to see him, and when we went in, we found him. There’s no mess or sign of struggle. It looks like he offed himself.”
Well, everyone there knew that looks could be deceiving.
“There was a note,” Tori offered. “It was on his desk beneath him.”
“Did you read it?”
Elizabeth smiled. “Maybe.”
He figured since she’d already seen it, they were one up on him with this case. He’d been so busy wrangling Jamie that he’d yet to check out the whole scene.
“My gut says take you up so you can look around,” Arsen offered, “but if my partner sees you there, he’s going off. AGAIN.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I can handle your partner. I have five kids, and all of them are better behaved than that idiot. Know what you should be investigating?”
“What?” he asked.
“How that grown kindergartener got a badge.”
“Amen,” muttered Tori.
Arsen didn’t disagree.
So far, they’d played it straight with him, and he wanted to use this moment to save the case. Elizabeth Blackhawk was known for her crime solving prowess. If she could give them a direction, then maybe…
“Let’s go up. Don’t touch anything,” he warned.
Elizabeth and Tori both laughed.
“Gee, thanks for telling us that. I’ve only been running crime scenes since you were in elementary school, son.”
Yeah, he got that a lot.
“Unless you’re a lot older than you look, ma’am, you’re mistaken. I’ve been doing the job well over a decade.”
She snorted. “Oh, well, you need a new partner. Your old one is an idiot.’
He was well aware.
Together, they headed upstairs, and when they got there, the dead man was still swinging like a pendulum.
“Where’s you ME?” Elizabeth asked.
“He’ll get here. He’s old.”
“How old is old?” she asked.
“Let’s just say he’s going to take his time, do this the way he wants, and that’s about it. Since it’s before ten, he won’t be here for a while.”
Elizabeth lifted a brow. “What?”
“You heard me right. He works ten to six, not on weekends, and that’s it.”
She was horrified.
First, leaving a victim swinging around was undignified for the dead. Secondly, if he didn’t show up when he was needed, and instead worked like everyone else…they’d never get that autopsy.
Not that she’d have access anyway.
Shit!
To
ri started laughing at the look on her face. “Welcome to Delta Falls. The town that works on a different clock. I bet you wish you had a Christopher Leonard lying around.”
God!
Yes, and for so many reasons exclusive of the dead man.
Her heart broke.
She missed him and Bethe, her godchild. She didn’t know where the hell he was. Elizabeth hadn’t talked to him in four weeks. Oh, she’d called to check on him, but he wouldn’t take her calls.
“Yeah, he’s off doing his rich thing. I don’t think he cares anymore, so that’s moot.”
Tori heard it in her voice. It quivered in emotion, so it was best not to go there or bring up his name again. Her best friend was one name away from weeping.
God!
She wished she could make Elizabeth feel better.
“Our guy will roll onto scene in a bit. He’ll cut him down,” Arsen offered. “He’s backlogged at the office, so it’ll only be a day or two until we get the results.”
Elizabeth simply shook her head.
She wasn’t running this. She was here to help. So, she kept her lips zipped.
“The note?” she pointed out.
Arsen headed toward it and with gloved fingers, he picked it up.
Then he read it aloud.
‘I, Fredrick Raymond, admit to the wrong doings that I’m going to be charged with once the truth comes out. I have been stealing money from the local government and have been implicated in some other things.
Today, I decided to come clean and take my life. I can’t survive in jail. I won’t go into the system.’
It wasn’t signed, but it was dated.
Arsen rooted around the desk until he pulled a planner from one of the drawers.
He compared them.
“Do they match?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yeah, it’s his handwriting. I can’t believe he didn’t sign it, but instead he only dated it.”
Elizabeth knew why. “It slows the investigators down. In order to prove he wasn’t murdered, and that it’s authentic, you’re going to have to have a handwriting expert validate it.”
Yeah, he was aware.
“If he was involved, then he bought time for anyone working with him. If he was stealing, it’ll take the FBI a long time to audit the files. Our forensic accountants are good, but they need to see everything,” she offered.
Kiss of Souls Page 28
