He ducked under the tape after her and got his first good look at the Dumpster. Greasy food wrappers, Tim Hortons coffee cups and God knew what else that had been strewn across the body. Didn’t conceal it, though.
Something suspicious. Yeah, right.
“Placed on top,” Ashlyn said.
“Facedown, arms extended to her sides.” He stepped closer and looked at the right hand. “Ligature marks on this wrist.”
A mangled piece of cardboard covered the body’s knees. “There’s a stain between her legs that could be dried blood, but not enough on this side to suggest she bled out and no obvious cause of death from this angle.” Ashlyn paused. “Could be more concealed by the cardboard.”
“She looks young. Late teens, maybe? Hair hasn’t lost its sheen.” Tain looked down at her hand, and for half a second he was seeing a different one.
That arm twisted around so that the palm was up.
He blinked. Other than that detail, they were almost identical. He blinked again, snapping his focus back to what was in front of him, away from what was seared into his memory. “Nails have been cut short. No polish.”
Ashlyn walked to the side of the Dumpster. “Feet were bound…” She hesitated before lifting her gaze and looking him in the eye. “Looks like they were bound together initially, but that she was recently retied. There are fresh wounds that don’t match up and rub marks on the inside of her legs.”
“No track marks on the arms, skin looks smooth, and she looks like she was slim but not unhealthy. If this was a working girl, she’s new to the scene. Body’s too clean from what I can see,” Tain said.
“Doesn’t feel right for a pro,” Ashlyn said quietly. She pulled a pair of gloves from her pocket and lifted the cardboard. “Old—” Her breath caught in her throat. “Old-fashioned white nightgown that looks like it would reach down to the ankles.”
White nightgown that goes down to the ankles. Tain swallowed.
Ashlyn looked up and past him toward their senior officers before meeting his gaze, the wideness of her eyes betraying the fact that the same thought had crossed her mind, and that she was locking down her emotions…
The scene was stirring the same memories in her that it had awakened in him.
Tain averted his eyes as he moved around to the back of the Dumpster. “The trash isn’t as deep on this side.”
“It’ll still have to be bagged and tagged and sorted through.”
“Ah, to be in uniform again, stuck on garbage detail,” he said as he walked around the side of the Dumpster to where she stood.
“You know, we’ve done this before. We’re all qualified to collect evidence.”
“And deprive the guys who specialize in this sort of thing the chance to prove their worth?”
The left corner of her mouth rose just a touch. “Willing to share the glory?”
“If it keeps me from wading through a Dumpster full of trash, then yes, I’m a giver.”
“Good thing.” Ashlyn’s eyes narrowed, and he looked up to follow her gaze.
Someone had already called in a team.
The leader held up a hand silently and the rest of the crew hung back as he approached Tain and Ashlyn. “Constable Johnson,” he said.
“Tain and Hart,” Tain said with a quick nod at his partner. “Who brought you in?”
Despite the rapidly receding hairline, Tain guessed Johnson was in his early thirties. Piercing blue eyes betrayed a keen mind. Something about the way Johnson had approached alone, as though he knew this one wasn’t quite by the book, the way his eyes hardened when he heard Tain’s question and paused noticeably before answering pegged Johnson as a career-minded yes-man.
“Look, all I know is, I have my orders.” Johnson glanced at Ashlyn. “Is this going to be a problem?”
Tain gestured at the Dumpster. “It’s all yours.”
“Just the evidence processing, Tain. It’s still your case.” Johnson hesitated. He stared at Tain, as though he might receive some signal of approval, acceptance of the intrusion.
Tain knew what Johnson read in his face: nothing. After a moment, Johnson nodded at Ashlyn, returned to his team and gave them their instructions. Tain and Ashlyn stepped back wordlessly and watched as the bag-n-taggers began the tedious process of photographing and labeling the contents of the Dumpster.
“They’re leaving no wrapper unturned.” Ashlyn murmured the words low enough that only Tain could hear.
“From what I’ve seen so far, she doesn’t fit the description of any recent runaways I’ve seen reports on, but the way they’re handling the scene makes you wonder.” Tain frowned. “Senior officers, a team called in before we even get to the scene…”
“Called to investigate ‘something suspicious.’ ” Ashlyn’s voice wasn’t just laced with sarcasm; it was drowning in it. “Bet that’s not what they told Johnson’s crew when they called them out.”
“Maybe it’s not who she is but what she is,” Tain said.
Ashlyn’s mouth opened and then she spoke. “You mean…because of how she’s dressed? They see some superficial similarities to an old case and think it’s time to test us, see how we’ll do?”
Tain shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“It’s possible Johnson’s just nervous because there are senior officers here, and he doesn’t know anything more than we do.”
“Except whoever called them in didn’t wait for us.”
“A fact I doubt he’s going to give up now.”
Before Tain could respond, Johnson called them over.
“We’ve cleared away enough on this side for you to see her face,” he said. With a gloved hand, Johnson carefully brushed the hair back.
Tain heard the sharp intake of breath and for a second he wasn’t sure whether it had come from himself or Ashlyn. She moved in front of him, started to reach out for the side of the Dumpster, then stopped herself. “Is that…?”
Tain’s mouth went dry. “Millie Harper.”
CHAPTER THREE
There were some moments no amount of training could prepare you for. Tain didn’t like attending autopsies at the coroner’s office. He didn’t like it when the victim was a child, and he didn’t like it when it was an elderly person. He didn’t like seeing someone closer to his own age.
He didn’t like seeing anyone that way. He understood it was necessary, and he did his job to the best of his ability, but he didn’t have to like it.
This time, it was more than just not liking it. He felt ill as he looked over at the body of a girl he’d known.
Tain heard the sharp intake of breath from his partner, but from the corner of his eye, he could also see the face of stone, how she was putting on a tough exterior to keep her emotions buried beneath the surface. He knew her too well.
The autopsy bay was more crowded than usual, in part because of the presence of Constable Johnson and one of his colleagues. It had been Ashlyn who’d given the tiniest shake of her head, warning Tain to keep his distance and shut his mouth all in one motion. She was right; it was futile. Whoever had ordered Johnson to the scene that morning, all Tain knew was that it hadn’t been Steve. He couldn’t let the politics of the investigation get in the way.
There was too much at stake.
They’d faced tough examinations before, but this was different, and as they watched Dr. Burke perform his tasks, what kept going through Tain’s mind was the respectful detachment with which Burke handled the body. Despite the doctor’s care, Tain had to fight the urge to push everyone aside and cover Millie’s body.
He found himself choking on his breath as he watched the scalpel slice through her skin, and for a moment actually felt relieved that someone had called Johnson’s team to the scene. There’d been no time at the Dumpster to steel themselves against the shock of discovery when they’d realized whose body was lying there.
As the autopsy progressed, Tain felt the case coming into focus. The initial shock had subsided, and now he co
uld process the ramifications of the investigation in a way he hadn’t consciously done since he’d talked to Steve.
Everyone would be watching.
Tain glanced up at Johnson, found the man’s narrowed gaze fixed firmly on him.
They already were.
Anyone with half a brain could have figured out the old woman, known as Lulu, was two parts crazy to one part hungover and one part starved. Their witness mashed as much sandwich as possible into her mouth and tried to chew it fast, as though afraid the desk might swallow it before she had a chance to eat it herself.
“We were called out of an autopsy for this?” Ashlyn said as they looked through the glass into the room where their witness sat.
“She’s halfway through her second sandwich,” Sims said as he handed Ashlyn a plate. “She already asked for more.”
Tain watched Ashlyn arch an eyebrow as she glanced down at the tuna sandwich she’d been handed. When she looked up, all she did was shake her head.
He opened the door and stepped inside the room.
“How mech?” Mumbled through a mouthful of tuna salad so thick that the overflow was spilling down her chin. The woman hadn’t even waited for them to sit down.
Ashlyn had given him one of those you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me looks as Lulu jumped up and grabbed the sandwich from the plate Ash was carrying and started cramming it in her mouth. Ashlyn pulled out a chair, forced the irritation from her expression and said, “Excuse me?”
Wide, unblinking eyes stared back as Lulu shoveled another mouthful of sandwich in and chewed. She had a narrow nose that was more like a beak, her skin a dim yellow color, clothes that only a bag lady would wear. “Ye know. Fer witnessin’ for ya.”
“What did you see?” Ashlyn asked. The grip she had on her pen had tightened. Another day and time and the scenario might have been amusing. As it was, Tain sympathized with his partner’s lack of patience.
“Well, the cop. Saw him. I did,” Lula said between bites. “ ’Course he said he’d tell yas himself, no need for me to talk, but he had that diff’rent uniform.” The woman worked on the last bite of the sandwich and after a big gulp, wiped her mouth with her shirtsleeve. “Why’d it take so long fer ya to git out there when dat other one was there so quick?”
“First officers on the scene will assess the situation and call for backup if needed, or hand the case over to a different department. If we’re already out working a case, it can take a while to get there,” Ashlyn said. “Did you see anything or anyone before the first cop arrived?”
“I saw whatever else ya needed me to see, love.” The scrawny, wrinkled face nodded solemnly, as though she believed her offer to help make a case was of the utmost importance instead of a complete waste of their time.
Ashlyn stood so abruptly the chair behind her clattered to the floor. “I’ve heard enough.”
She was halfway out the door by the time Tain stood. Lulu continued prattling away as he turned and followed Ashlyn in the hall, but he didn’t hear any of it.
“You know, I’ve heard stories about Loopy Lulu ever since I transferred here. I almost can’t believe it took this long to have the pleasure.”
The color in Ashlyn’s cheeks deepened, then started to fade. “Nice you can have such a good sense of humor about it. To think we got called out of an autopsy for this—”
He held up his hand. “It’s not worth it. What’s done is done. Let’s just get back to the coroner’s office.” Tain turned toward her as they started walking down the hall. “When the time is right, we’ll kick Carter’s ass for this.”
Ashlyn blew out a breath. “Good. I’d do it myself, but I think he’d enjoy it too much.”
Tain had managed to suppress the smile before she glanced at him. Little moments like that gave him hope that his partner was truly back.
She’d been through hell, and the loss she’d suffered had taken its toll.
As Ashlyn started the car, Tain’s phone rang. He held up his hand to gesture for her to stop and then closed his phone.
“They’re pretty much finished. Burke’s sending over a transcript of the process.”
Ashlyn smacked her hand against the steering wheel. “What a waste of time.” They sat in silence for a moment, keeping their thoughts to themselves until Ashlyn asked, “What’s next?”
As he opened his mouth to respond, Tain’s phone rang again. He flipped it open, listened to the response, then hung up.
“Back inside. We’ve been summoned.”
A white-hot rage settled in Ashlyn’s face, and then she yanked the keys out of the ignition and shoved the door open. He hurried out of the car and stepped in front of her, blocking the sidewalk.
“Get out of my way.”
“Not until you calm down.”
“This is bullshit, Tain. We’re nothing but puppets. Called out from an autopsy for…for a hoax? A complete joke? We aren’t even running the case. If we don’t close this—”
“I know.”
Ashlyn folded her arms across her chest and looked him in the eye. “I’m sick of them manipulating investigations, playing politics instead of just letting us do our jobs.”
“Just…” He looked at her reddened cheeks, her clenched jaw. “Just don’t let your anger get the better of you. Don’t let it cloud your judgment.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re lecturing me about controlling my temper?”
“Ash—”
She clenched her fists, then closed her eyes and lifted her hands to cover her face. When she took her hands away, he could see that some of the color had faded a touch. She breathed in and out before she spoke again, the edge gone from her tone, her voice calm. “I don’t want this case, Tain.”
He took a step closer, reached out, squeezed her arm and lowered his voice. “I need you with me on this.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “We’ve been set up.”
A drop of his hand and quick turn put him on the sidewalk, walking toward the front door.
Ashlyn followed. “We’re being set up to fail.”
He opened the door to the building, voice lowered again by necessity. “Do you really think Steve would do that to us?”
His way of avoiding her assessment, sidestepping the question. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d sifted through the events of the day, the facts they had, and put her finger on the same conclusion he kept coming back to.
One he refused to believe. Why set them up? Why set them up to fail?
The problem was, he couldn’t come up with another solution that fit the facts. When he put together all the information they had, it looked like they’d been handed the case for show, that the investigation was being handled by whoever had called Johnson’s team in, and that Johnson knew it.
They’d be getting evidence secondhand until the case was solved or shelved. There might be evidence they wouldn’t get at all.
The door to Sergeant Steve Daly’s office was open and he must have been watching for them because as soon as Tain could see inside the room he saw Steve stand up and gesture for them to come inside.
“It’s a bit premature for an update, sir,” Ashlyn said. “The—”
“I didn’t call you in for an update.” Steve pointed at the chairs on the other side of his desk across from his own. “Please have a seat.”
From the corner of his eye, Tain could see Ashlyn’s quick glance and hesitation. He forced himself to sit down and was relieved when she also complied without comment.
Steve had gotten a new clock, one that had an audible tick that marked off the seconds. Tain hadn’t noticed it before and he didn’t see it on the shelf closest to Steve’s desk or on the wall. Best guess: it was on the new shelf behind the chairs he and Ashlyn sat in.
The monotony of the clock was finally broken by Steve’s words. “I know the past few months have been hard.” Steve glanced at Ashlyn, who stared back steadily. “You caught a couple of tough cases, and with the interdepartmental politi
cs…What happened wasn’t your fault.”
Steve paused and shifted his gaze to Tain. For a second Steve looked at him, mouth open, as though hoping for a response. When Tain remained silent, Steve drew a breath, looked at his desk a moment, then lifted his head and cleared his throat.
“I wanted to talk to you about this case. About reassigning it.”
“What?”
Steve raised his hand calmly and gestured for Ashlyn to let him speak. “Under the circumstances, I think it would be best to—”
“And what circumstances would those be, exactly?” Ashlyn asked.
Tain touched his partner lightly on the arm. Her face had reddened, but she kept her gaze lowered instead of looking at him directly. Once he was sure she’d stay silent, he turned to look at Steve. “Respectfully, this is bullshit. You guys called us out there. You asked for us.”
“I know.” Steve looked down at his desk, gaze on the open folder in front of him. A photo of Millie Harper’s body after it had been turned was sitting on top, staring back up at him.
Tain got up, yanked the folder off the desk and held up the photo, tapping it with his index finger. “She’s the reason we were called out, without details, and before we even have a chance to get started, you’re pulling us off.” He tossed the file down in front of Steve and leaned down, hands clenching the edge of the desk. “I feel like I spend more time being jerked around than working.”
“Look, I can appreciate you’re frustrated, and that’s the only reason I’m tolerating your behavior,” Steve said as he glared back at Tain. “I am your senior officer. You may not like my orders, but you do have to follow them.”
“Then I’d like to speak to your commanding officer.” Ashlyn’s voice cut through the tension on Steve’s face, and he flinched as he turned to look at her.
“Listen to me, Ash—”
“No, Steve, you listen. We spent months being jerked around after your temporary transfer. When you came back, we thought that was over. You guys picked up the phone today, you assigned us a case without giving us any details, and you started handling it before we even got to the scene.”
Lullaby for the Nameless (Nolan, Hart & Tain Thrillers) Page 34
