by D. F. Hart
Until someone attempted to move him, and the large pool of blood staining the grass led to the discovery of a misshapen bullet hole in the left armpit of his uniform.
“He’s been shot! Somebody call an ambulance!”
Tad Miller, a surgeon and one of the members of the reenactment team, raced across the open field, shoving people out of the way as he went.
“Let me through,” he bellowed, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea.
He knelt, checked Ed’s carotid pulse, then cursed and ripped open Ed’s historically accurate dark blue frockcoat, feeling underneath the material with his bare hands. He cursed again when he located the gaping entrance wound on Ed’s upper left side.
“Bring me something I can pack in there to try to slow the bleeding. Now,” he growled.
But it was no use. By the time the ambulance arrived on scene, Edward Baker, beloved teacher and passionate historian, was gone.
***
The man responsible for Edward Baker’s death slung his rifle over his shoulder by its custom strap, grabbed the vintage rucksack he’d found at the Army/Navy store, and slipped quietly down from the cupola right after he’d taken the shot. He felt no need to watch the aftermath; he knew all too well that he’d hit precisely where he’d been aiming.
He stepped out onto the hospital’s front porch just as the gathering of people standing there surged forward down the steps toward the middle of the field where Edward lay. Thanks to the general confusion and his costume, no one gave him a second glance. He blended in just long enough to slip around the side of the building and disappear.
By the time emergency workers were loading Edward Baker’s body onto a gurney, he was back in his hotel room, changing into street clothes and contemplating his choices for a late lunch. And he already had an excellent idea of the game’s next location – Fort Chadbourne, and at some point, paying a very memorable visit to one Stella Williams. It was only a question of timing. He needed Grant to make contact with her – and be seen with her - first.
But will he? Or will he be so rattled by today’s events that he just gives up and goes home?
I guess I’ll just have to wait and see, he decided as he headed downstairs to go flirt with the cute redheaded waitress at the café again.
***
“What do you say to having Rick and Faith over for dinner tonight? It’s going to be a while before we see them again,” Donny suggested.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Lizzie agreed. “And let’s invite Joe and Trish, too. His birthday was this week.”
“Absolutely!”
“Great!” Lizzie grinned. “What should we cook, and what time should I tell them?”
“I make a mean cheese enchilada anyway,” he offered. “But with carne asada added into the mix? That takes it to a whole new level.”
“I’ll let you take point on the meal, then,” she countered. “I’ll just text Faith and Joe and let them know.”
“Tell them dinner will be ready by seven-thirty. And then, let’s go shopping,” Donny confirmed. “We’re gonna need some very special ingredients.”
Lizzie texted Faith and Joe, both of whom replied almost immediately with sounds great, we’ll see you then!
“Okay then, kitchen wizard,” Lizzie teased Donny as she grabbed her keys. “We have a dinner party to put together. Lead the way.”
***
It was an hour before anyone was even allowed to leave the scene of what the authorities were referring to as ‘the accident’. Along with everyone else, Grant had been asked his name, questioned briefly as to what he’d seen, then released with a terse “move along.”
Shaken, he returned to his room at the bed-and-breakfast, sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor in disbelief.
What the hell happened today?
***
Edward Baker’s remains arrived at the Tom Green County Coroner’s office roughly two hours after he’d been killed.
“Oh my,” Doctor Heming said to his assistant Chad as he examined not only the fatal entrance wound but noted the lack of an exit wound. “I think we’re going to find this was a large caliber round. Let’s get his chest x-rayed before I begin the autopsy, shall we? That should show us the bullet’s trajectory and where it came to rest.”
As they moved the x-ray machine into place, the coroner sighed heavily, and Chad looked at him with concern.
“You all right, sir?”
“No. He was Becky’s favorite teacher,” Heming explained, referring to his teenage daughter. “Man, I don’t want to have to tell her about this.”
They fell silent as they took the x-rays then lined them up on the lightboard for review.
“Yep, there it is,” Heming pointed at the dark mass in the lower lobe of Baker’s right lung. “Huh. See the track here? That’s a really weird angle... How tall is he?”
Chad studied the file. “Six-foot-one.”
“Interesting,” Heming mused as he made his way to the computer and entered some quick calculations, then physically compared the results using a long, slender metal rod inserted gently into the wound track.
A few minutes later, they had their answer.
“That’s what I thought,” Heming declared. “I’m gonna make a phone call, but make sure you also note this in the report, Chad. The shot came from an elevated position, roughly a thirty-degree angle. They’ll need to adjust their search of the scene.”
***
“Thanks, Mark,” Detective Perez said, and hung up.
“Gotta go back out there,” he told his partner. “That was Heming. He’s still working on caliber, but he was able to tell me the shooter fired from a thirty-degree down angle, and from the looks of things was lined up pretty well straight on with Baker’s position.”
“Huh,” Stevens said. “There’s not that many places at the fort that aren’t ground level and still accessible to the public.”
“I know,” Perez agreed. “Which should make it easier to find something.”
He checked his watch. “It’s after tour hours. I’ll call ahead, have them meet us out there and unlock doors for us. See who’s still on shift from the crime scene crew, will you?”
***
Faith and Rick arrived just before seven.
“Something smells amazing,” Faith exclaimed in delight as she handed Lizzie the cheesecake they’d brought for dessert.
“I know, right? I’ve been ready to eat for a half-hour, at least,” Lizzie remarked.
“Chips, salsa, and freshly made guacamole are already on the table,” Donny called out. “Help yourselves. I’ll have the rest done in about ten minutes.”
“He made the guacamole from scratch?” Faith asked.
“Yep.”
Faith leaned in close to Lizzie. “You’re keeping him, right?” she whispered, and Lizzie chuckled.
“I plan to,” she whispered back, then turned to greet Joe and Trish, who’d brought a bottle of red wine.
“Okay, guys,” Donny announced at seven-fifteen. “It’s ready. I think it might be easier to leave it all in the kitchen, let everyone serve themselves, then take a seat.”
“Works for me,” Rick chimed in.
Joe opened and poured the wine once everyone had gathered back at the table with their plates of food.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Donny said. “There’s a lot to say, so bear with me.”
“Just don’t take too long, we’re starving,” Rick joked, and everyone laughed.
“Fair enough. I just want to say a happy late birthday to Joe, hope you had a great one. Congrats to Lizzie, who’s about to launch the next phase of her career, and to Joe and Trish on their engagement. Lastly, I just want to say a heartfelt thank you to each and every one of you,” Donny said. “I’m grateful we’re all connected.”
“Not too shabby, Atherton,” Rick said. “But can you cook as well as you toast?”
“Dig in and find out, Connor.”
“C
hallenge accepted,” Rick grinned and picked up his fork.
***
As the sun continued its downward path on the horizon, Perez and Stevens stood in the grass next to where Edward Baker had fallen.
“You see what I see?” Stevens asked.
“Yep,” Perez said. “This spot lines up perfectly with the cupola, and the angle’s just about right, too.”
To Doug, the caretaker, he said, “Can you unlock the hospital for us, please?”
“Sure thing,” Doug replied. “And no worries about the alarm system. When they told me ya’ll were coming back I kinda figured you’d want to look for fingerprints and stuff, so, I asked them to turn off the alarm from the main panel. That way I don’t have to touch the keypad again and add more for ya’ll to wade through.”
“Good thinking,” Perez said, nodding in approval. “A lot of folks wouldn’t have thought of that.”
“I watch a lot of crime shows,” the caretaker confessed with a grin as he unlocked the door.
In short order Perez, Stevens, and Kim, the crime scene tech supervisor, were heading toward the stairs to look around on the second floor before proceeding up to the cupola.
“How many people have access to the second floor?” Stevens asked the caretaker.
“Only fort employees are supposed to go up there. It’s off limits to the public.”
“And how many people is that?”
“Including volunteers? Twelve, total.”
“We’ll need prints from the employees to compare against what we find,” Kim reminded them before they left the first floor. “And don’t touch anything. It’ll all need to be processed.”
They made their way up to the second floor carefully, looked around, then walked over to the second set of stairs that led to the one place in the entire building they were most interested in.
When they realized that the space above wasn’t big enough for all three of them to comfortably occupy, Kim volunteered to go up the smaller, steeper set of stairs that led to the tiny three-foot by three-foot enclosure. She stopped at the top of the staircase, turned on a penlight, and began to shine it around the area.
It didn’t take long at all to discover remnants left behind of the sniper’s nest that had existed earlier that day.
“Got a casing,” Kim called out to the detectives from the top step. “I can see it from here. But until we process the scene, I don’t want to disturb it. Watch out, I’m coming down.”
“The floor’s really dusty up there, which is great news for us. I saw two pretty well-defined shoeprints,” she revealed once she’d returned to their level. “If I can get clear enough pictures of them, we might even be able to identify the brand, not just the size.”
“Check every single square inch up there for prints, please,” Stevens told her. “Including the shutters.”
“I’d already planned to,” came her brisk response. “But if you want it done now, I’m gonna need more light. It’s getting dark up there pretty quick.”
“On it, Kim. Be right back.”
Within a few minutes he broke the news. “Can’t get my hands on a big enough light source.”
“It will have to keep until morning, then,” she replied. “There’s just not enough natural light left to do this right.”
They stepped back outside and approached the man who had let them in.
“Doug,” Stevens said, “This building needs to remain closed to tourists until we’re through with it. Can you pass the word along for us, or do I need to let them know?’
“I’ll call right now,” Doug said, and pulled out his cell phone.
***
“That meal was amazing,” Trish proclaimed. “I’m afraid I may not have room for cheesecake.”
“I might, if I wait about a half-hour,” Joe chimed in. “But not before then.”
“Who wants coffee?” Lizzie asked.
“I’ll take some with dessert a bit later,” Rick said. “Right now, I’m stuffed.”
Everyone nodded in unison.
“So, Trish, are you guys making wedding plans?” Lizzie asked her.
“Already sorted out,” Trish answered. “We’ve opted to keep it simple. Gonna go to the Justice of the Peace, then take a week-long trip.”
“Nice!” Faith noted. “Where are you going?”
“That part’s up in the air still,” Joe confessed. “We’re having trouble deciding.”
He and Trish glanced at each other, and Lizzie sensed an undercurrent.
“What?” she asked.
Joe looked at Trish, who nodded.
“Well,” he began, “we’re among friends here, so, you guys are the first to hear this. I’m planning to retire from the Fort Worth Police Department in the spring. I’m going to get my private investigator’s license.”
Lizzie’s jaw hung open. “Never thought I’d hear that from you, Joe.”
He shrugged. “You know better than anybody here what I’ve seen over the course of my career, kiddo,” he said gently. “I’ve reached my limit. Being a P.I. will keep me from getting bored, and I’ll still be able to help people. I just... I’m done standing over the dead, and I’m done being the one that has to break the news to those they’ve left behind.”
Lizzie reached over and squeezed his hand. “I totally get it,” she told him softly. “I do. And I think you’ll make the best P.I. ever.”
The three couples continued talking and laughing, until at last Donny said, “Okay gang. I’m getting some coffee and dessert. Who’s in?”
***
Grant paused, then re-read the second draft of his article – particularly the sidebar at the end celebrating the life and legacy of Edward Baker.
It’s fitting, he told himself. I think Ed would be happy with the way I’ve conveyed the Christmas at Fort Concho experience - and I also think he’d want me to keep going.
He glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. Wow. It’s after eight already. Better eat something, I guess.
He saved his work, closed his laptop, and headed to the car to go find dinner.
***
“Done,” Lizzie said as she loaded the last plate into the dishwasher. “And that was a lot of fun, don’t you think?”
“It was. We need to do that again sometime.”
“Great job on dinner, by the way. I didn’t know you could cook like that!”
Donny shrugged. “I don’t get a chance very often. Usually it’s just me, and I got to the point of ‘why bother’ for just one person.”
“Don’t I know it,” Lizzie rejoined as she dried her hands. “I became the queen of takeout up in Seattle.”
They settled in on her couch, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.
“What time do you want to head out tomorrow?”
She sighed. “Around nine, I guess. By then most of the commuter traffic should be done, I hope. Have you already selected equally spaced points on the map for overnight stays for the second half of the trip?”
He tickled her ribs. “You know I have. Would you like to see them?”
“Just checking,” Lizzie snickered. “And no, you can surprise me.”
“Hey, the FBI academy program is five months, right?”
“Yep,” she confirmed. “Why?”
“Just thinking ahead,” Donny answered. “I bet Virginia is just as pretty in April. Looking forward to seeing it.”
They drifted into silence watching TV as Donny plotted and schemed.
Let’s see... she’ll graduate sometime around the end of April, I’ll help get her moved back down here around the first weekend in May... Yep, that ought to be just about perfect.
***
At eight o’clock the next morning, Perez, Stevens, Kim and two more members of her processing crew arrived back at the fort to document and collect any evidence from the sniper’s nest. Kim assigned one tech to the alarm panel and the first set of stairs, and the other to collecting fingerprint samples from the Fort Concho staff.
“Once the first floor’s finished, go ahead and get that second staircase done, too,” Kim told them, “and let me know when I am clear to proceed.”
Her employees nodded, grabbed their kits, and got to work.
“Once they finish, I’ll head up and cover the entire cupola area myself,” Kim told the detectives. “This will take a while. We want to be as thorough as possible.”
“We’re gonna talk to some more people and see if Heming has any updates for us. We’ll meet you back here,” Perez told her.
***
Grant woke with a clear head and a renewed resolve to continue writing his articles. After breakfast, he pulled out his notes and found the number Ed had given him for Stella Williams.
She picked up on the third ring.
“Hello, Ms. Williams? My name is Grant Forrester. If you’ve got some time today or tomorrow, I’d really like to come meet with you and talk about Fort Chadbourne.”
He listened for a few moments, then said, “Sure! I’m actually not that far away at all. What’s say we meet at ten-thirty. Is that acceptable?”
***
The killer listened intently to their conversation, smiling wolfishly as he took notes.
Well then. Guess I’d better pack up and get moving so we can get round two underway.
***
Faith Thomas sat in her office at her computer, trying her best to concentrate on the daily cash account reconciliations.
But her brain persisted in replaying Lizzie’s question.
Have you two set a wedding date yet, or what?
“This isn’t going away,” she lamented under her breath, and put down her pen.
She stood, stretched, and headed to the breakroom for a fresh cup of hot tea, pondering the question as she walked.
What am I waiting for, exactly? We’ve been engaged for over a year now. But it’s not like Rick has brought it up, either.
She scowled as she filled her mug with hot water from the dispenser, then added her tea bag to let it brew.
Okay, maybe try this from a logical standpoint. What would getting married change about our current situation? We already live together, and we’re exclusive. None of that would be affected...
She gasped as she arrived at the truth of it.
