1 A Small Case of Murder

by Lauren Carr

  In his mind, Joshua used Tad’s information to re-enact Vicki’s murder. He saw the camping spike plunge through her chest wall to impale her heart. “That means our killer was very strong, and or their blood was pumping with adrenaline to plunge that stake through her sternum and into her heart. That, or they used a hammer or something.”

  Tad referred to the second report. “Beth was in a coma from the overdose when she was shot, which proves she didn’t shoot herself. If the bullet through the brain hadn’t have killed her, the Valium and booze would have. If she had stayed in the hospital I probably could have saved her.”

  “How did she get out of the hospital?”

  “Security has it on tape. They’re sending it to Sheriff Sawyer and, I guess, you. Right after the nurse left, someone in a trench coat went into her room and helped her out. Beth was barely on her hind legs. Trench Coat had to hold her up.”

  Joshua grinned at the lead. “Man or woman?”

  Tad shook his head. “Can’t tell. They knew the camera was there. They wore a man’s fedora and kept their face from the camera.”

  Joshua groaned. “The trench coat. What do you know about that?”

  “Most likely the same one you found in the closet.” Tad continued, “When he or she pulled the trigger, the killer left a perfect print on Beth’s fingernail. Her clothes aren’t going to be much help, though.”

  “Why not?”

  “Beth had been wearing them for days and had been all over. You know how physical evidence works. Every time you come in contact with someone or someplace, you leave a piece of yourself behind, and take a piece of where you have been with you. Beth was on a major binge and hadn’t bathed or changed her clothes in that time. She had three days worth of DNA on her, at least, including yours and mine.”

  “Is there anything you can tell for certain from her clothes?”

  “Judging by the carpet fibers we found, Beth was the one dragged down the hall. Vicki was killed on the bed according to the blood splatters at the scene.”

  Joshua agreed with his conclusion. “Her being dragged down the hall makes sense if Beth was in a coma when she was killed.”

  Tad continued, “I also got a lock of hair off the gun that wasn’t Beth’s. It was caught in the chamber. Beth was a strawberry blond and this one was a darker shade.”

  “Red hair,” Joshua remarked. “It could have been Vicki’s.”

  “It could have, but Vicki was killed two hours before Beth. I sent the hair to the lab.”

  “What about the blood on the coat? Does it match either of our victims?”

  Tad said, “It was Beth’s blood and body tissue on the coat. The killer was kneeling in front of Beth when he or she pulled the trigger and the blood splattered across the front of the coat when the bullet went through her head. They also found hairs around the collar and on the shoulders of the coat. Some short ones and some long ones. The long ones had red hair coloring like the hair I found on the gun.”

  “A woman,” Joshua noted.

  “Some men color their hair,” Tad argued before continuing, “It was also Beth’s blood on the gloves in the coat’s pockets. None of Vicki’s blood was on the coat, but her blood was on the leather driving glove that was found by the bed-room door. None of Beth’s blood was on that.”

  “That’s weird.” Joshua mused, “Whoever killed Vicki had to get blood on him or her.”

  Tad agreed. “When that spike punctured Vicki’s heart, it was like bursting a water balloon.”

  “The killer wasn’t wearing the coat when they killed Vicki.”

  “Nope.”

  “Who killed them?”

  “I’m unable to comment on the specifics involving the current investigation into the deaths of Victoria Rawlings and Elizabeth Davis,” Joshua Thornton read from the statement he had prepared for the journalists gathered at the county court-house days later.

  Tess Bauer and the rest of the media had been hounding him since Marjorie Greene announced that the former JAG officer had been appointed special prosecutor in charge of the case.

  The double murder was big news. It isn’t every day the Satan-worshipping granddaughter of a prominent church pastor gets killed after being arraigned for attempting murder.

  While Joshua felt obliged to make a statement, he didn’t intend to say anything. He announced that he was doing all he could to get the evidence he needed to convict Vicki Rawlings’ and Beth Davis’s killer. Then, he said he would take a couple of questions.

  Tess Bauer shot the first question. “Mr. Thornton, have you questioned Reverend Orville Rawlings?”

  Prepared for that question, Joshua answered, “I’m unable to answer any questions on the specifics of the case. I will tell you that everyone is a suspect and all suspects will be inter-viewed if they haven’t already.”

  “Are you going to ask him about the glove?”

  Joshua’s smile dropped.

  Tess pressed on. “The reverend’s driving glove was found on the scene, wasn’t it?”

  Unaware of a glove found at the scene, the other jour-nalists began questioning her.

  Joshua turned to Sheriff Curtis Sawyer, who waited off the small stage, out of camera range.

  In response to the prosecutor’s silent question, the sheriff glared at Tess and shook his head like a big dog tearing up an annoying little pest.

  Joshua turned back to the microphones. “I’m not able to comment on that.”

  “Mr. Thornton, you were the first official on the scene of the murders that night,” Tess announced. “You were there even before the police. Can you tell us about your connection to the Rawlings?”

  “Ms. Bauer, I’m much too busy to have time to banter around insinuations. If you have any accusations to make about my credibility, then come right out and say them. Otherwise, let me do my job.”

  There was a hush in the room.

  Tess took a second to regain her resolve. “Do you intend to seriously consider Reverend Orville Rawlings a suspect?”

  “He’s already seriously considered a suspect, as are several other people who I will not name.”

  “Has the blood-covered glove at the scene been identified as belonging to Reverend Rawlings?”

  “Ms. Bauer,” Joshua said with a forced smile, “a glove doesn’t make for a conviction and I won’t waste my time, or the taxpayers’ money, arresting someone for a crime unless I can get a conviction. Do you know what circumstantial evidence is?”

  He waited for her answer, which didn’t come. “It is evidence that is based on circumstances. It’s Reverend Rawlings’ glove, so we are to arrest him? Anybody could have stolen it and placed it at the scene. It was his granddaughter’s home. He could have dropped it there while visiting her days or weeks before. I look for real evidence, such as a murder weapon with his fingerprints on it, or a witness who saw him at the scene at the time of the murder.”

  He challenged the journalist. “You bring me a witness who saw Reverend Orville Rawlings at the scene committing the murders, and I’ll get the arrest warrant.”

  The lawyer nodded at the journalists, unnerved by his candor, and smiled charmingly. “Thank you.” Then, he left the room before they could regain their composure to ask him more.

  “I don’t think anyone has ever laid into Tess Bauer like that before.” Sheriff Curt Sawyer flipped through the pages of his notepad for his notes from his interview with the Rawlings following the murders.

  The sheriff and special prosecutor had returned to the scene of the crime.

  Joshua studied the pictures and report from the state forensics team. His meeting with them didn’t turn up anything he hadn’t already learned from Tad.

  “She’s sharp.” Joshua’s attention turned to the blood-stained bed and floor where he and Tad had found the two
bodies.

  “You’re right there. She could have gone to New York a couple of years ago. She had a job lined up with the network.”

  “Why didn’t she?” Joshua went to the other side of the bed to examine the blood-splattered wall with a hole cut out of it. Forensics had removed a portion to examine the slug in it that had gone through Beth’s head.

  “After her little sister died, Tess vowed to get the Rawlings for selling her the drugs that killed her.”

  Joshua studied the bed where Vicki’s body had been found. He dug through the crime pictures. “Any line yet on who that coat belongs to?”

  “I think it’s one of the Rawlings.”

  “But not the reverend?”

  Sheriff Sawyer shook his head. “Not big enough.”

  “Why do you think it belongs to the Rawlings?” Joshua laid out the pictures on the bed.

  “Because when I asked Wally about it, he made a big deal about how many people in the valley own trench coats,” Sheriff Sawyer said. “He pointed out that you probably own one.”

  “He’s right.”

  “When did you last see it?”

  “This morning. In my closet. Do you want to see it?”

  Joshua recalled that Tad had said that he didn’t think Beth was able to drive when she’d left the hospital. The security video showed someone escorting her out of the emergency room. “Where’s Beth’s car?”

  “We impounded it. It’s at a garage out on Route 8.”

  “Did anyone examine it?”

  Sawyer said, “One of the crime scene investigators went over it. The thing’s a mess. We picked up some prints. There’s no ID on them, but we got them.”

  “Good.” Joshua squinted at the bed.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “How did Vicki end up on this bed?” Joshua referred to the forensics report. “Carpet fibers on Beth’s clothes and shoes confirmed that she was dragged across the living room and down the hall to be put on the floor next to the bed. There are no carpet fibers on Vicki’s clothes. She was killed on the bed.”

  Joshua studied the picture of Vicki’s body. Cringing at the sight of the snake that had entangled itself around her body, he forced himself to look beyond the tattoo to observe the scene of her death. “She wasn’t wearing any underwear, but there was no sexual activity. She was completely exposed. The killer didn’t bother covering her up. That means either he didn’t know her, or at least, if he did, he didn’t care enough about her to cover up her body. If he cared, he would have pulled down her shirt or put a sheet over her.” He handed the autopsy re-port to the sheriff and pointed to the information that had caught his attention. “I knew I read it here somewhere.”

  “There was a puncture mark on the left side of her genital ridge.” The sheriff translated. “She got a shot in the crotch.”

  “Tad had said she was shot up with a muscle relaxant to incapacitate her so the killer could plunge the spike through her heart. She let him shoot her up in her groin.”

  Joshua imagined the scene that had taken place on the bed. “She and the killer were having foreplay. That’s why she wasn’t wearing panties. She probably thought it was a stimulant to enhance sex, but instead it incapacitated her. She couldn’t do anything but lie there and watch him ram the stake through her heart.”

  “What a way to go,” Sheriff Sawyer breathed.

  “Well, we know one thing about the killer,” Joshua muttered. “It was someone Vicki Rawlings trusted, who didn’t give a damn about her.”

  Chapter Eight

  The threat of rain loomed in the air with unseasonable cold winds. Thunderclaps warned of the summer storm’s imminent arrival.

  Tad didn’t notice that the living room light was on when he tossed his motorcycle helmet onto the kitchen table. He turned on the light over the sink before taking milk out of the refrigerator and gulping it straight from the carton.

  “You could have called.”

  Tad whirled around to find Joshua standing in the living room doorway. “I thought we had agreed to see other people,” he cracked before gulping more of the milk. He closed the refrigerator door, but kept the milk out to finish for his lunch.

  “I was worried. Where have you been for the last two days?”

  At the sound of his master’s voice, Dog scurried in from where he had been lounging on the bed. He jumped up onto Tad, who returned the greeting before easing his front paws back down to the floor.

  “I went to see Maggie.” Tad stepped around Joshua to go into the living room, where he took off his leather jacket and tossed it across the arm of the sofa. After plopping down next to it, he placed the top of the milk carton between his teeth in order to remove his boots. He let out a sigh when the air hit his sweaty feet.

  Tad was so focused on getting nourishment into his body and removing his boots that he didn’t notice the crates of books stacked up along the wall under the picture window.

  “How is she?” Joshua asked.

  “She’s been better.”

  “That must have been some romance. When she was up here—”

  “What do you want?” Tad’s abrupt tone startled him.

  “I’ve been worried. You took off so fast, and no one knew where you went.”

  “I told Reverend Andrews I was going away for a few days when I asked him to take care of Dog.”

  “You never said where you were going,” Joshua countered.

  “I’m a grown man. I can come and go as I please.” Tad put his feet up on the coffee table. “Can’t a guy take off for a few days without being interrogated like a murder suspect?”

  “I’m not interrogating you. Should I?” Joshua could see that he hadn’t slept in a long time. He hadn’t eaten either.

  Tad took another gulp of the milk. “Did Sawyer tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” Joshua sat on the arm of the recliner across from him. “Did the results from the DNA tests come back yet?”

  Tad emitted a hollow laugh. “It’s still going to be a couple of weeks for that.” He laid his head back and shut his eyes. “They got a match on the fingerprint off Beth’s fingernail,” He told him with his eyes closed. “You’ll never guess whose it is.”

  “Reverend Rawlings?”

  “Close. Wally. There’s only one problem with that finger-print. It’s upside down.”

  “Upside down?”

  With an exhausted groan, Tad stood to pick up a pair of scissors from a stack of magazines. “Let me show you. You’re Beth. I put the gun in your hand and I put my hand over yours to pull the trigger. I would have to wrap my hand around yours and press my finger on top of yours to pull the trigger.”

  As he explained, Tad pressed his fingertip tip over Joshua’s. “Now, my index finger is right over your fingernail. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “That’s not how the fingerprint is on Beth’s fingernail.”

  “The print was planted,” Joshua said. “Someone’s trying to frame Wally.”

  Tad plopped back down onto the sofa. “Or Wally planted the fingerprint knowing that we would know it was planted and eliminate him as a suspect.” He took another gulp of the milk before laying his head against the back of the sofa and closing his eyes again. “What do you think of our Sheriff Curtis Sawyer?”

  “He’s on the ball. Kind of young.”

  “He ran unopposed after Patterson was elected to Congress. He was military police like Delaney. His father died when Curt was a baby. He and his mom lived in a trailer on the outskirts of New Manchester. He came back here to take care of her after she got divorced from a jerk.”

  “Good guy or bad?”

  Tad sighed deeply, lifted his head again, and opened his eyes into a squint. “I haven’t decided yet. His mother cleans house for the
reverend. He had Rawlings’ support in his campaign. Yet, some of the things he does are completely opposite of what Delaney would do.”

  “What type of things?”

  “Like one night, Vicki broke in here while I was out on a call. I came home and found him in here arresting her. Sawyer said he was driving by and saw the broken window in my kitchen door. She was flipping out on something and had a butcher knife. He overpowered her and hauled her away to jail. The way Wally feels about me, if it was Delaney, he would have let her kill me, and then frame someone who pissed him off for it.”

  “Why didn’t he ever keep her in jail?” Joshua asked.

  “Sawyer says he was doing all he could about her. I think he was sincere. Before and after Vicki broke in here, I would see him out my window checking things out to make sure I was okay. But he never got her off my back.”

  Joshua agreed. “There’s only so much the law can do when the prosecuting attorney is refusing to enforce the law.”

  “That’s what Sawyer told me.”

  Joshua acted casual when he asked, “Why was Vicki threatening you?”

  “I don’t know. Suddenly, out of the blue she was telling me that I was responsible for her mother dying, and that I wasn’t going to take a breath or make a move without her being there.”

  Joshua cocked his head and furrowed his brows. “Was Cindy one of your patients?”

  Tad got up and dropped to his knees in front of the stack of books. He fingered the dusty volumes of medical textbooks in the crates.

  Joshua had seen the look in Tad’s eyes in his own reflection in the mirror eight months earlier when his wife passed away.

  With the voice and face of an angel, Cindy Welch had been a complete contrast to her daughter Vicki. It was easy for Tad to have fallen in love with her.

  The Welch family had been the model of middle-class domesticity. They didn’t smoke, drink, or swear. Cindy’s father had worked in the steel mill, and her mother had baked cookies for the PTA. The family had lived in a brick ranch-style home with two deer statues in their front lawn along Route 8.