by Mark Young
The driver never got out. Instead, he slid from the driver’s seat and opened an interior door to the back of the van. He crouched and closed the door behind him. In a moment, he flicked on several toggle switches, adjusted the volume on a receiver, and began monitoring a video feed from a camera hidden inside the law office.
“So Tommy White Eagle was playing around with another man’s wife. Bossman is gonna love this.”
He reached for a cell phone and dialed. A man’s voice answered. “Hey, I followed the girl to her brother’s law office. Learned something we didn’t know. The dead guy was playing around with the casino manager’s wife. Yeah, Steve Robinette’s wife.”
The man listened to his boss. “You want me to stick with the girl or what?” He heard the man’s response. “Okay. I’ll let you know what turns up.”
He hung up and glanced at the monitor. “Well, baby sister. It’s just you and me for a while.” He watched Jessie and Lisa rummaging through the office.
He chuckled. “You ain’t going to find nothing there, sweetheart. We got to it before the cops. Knock yourself out. I get paid by the hour.”
Chapter 28
Selway River, Idaho
Brian Wyatt stared at the wire transfer on his computer as he tracked his transaction. A five, followed by four zeros. He’d just returned from his bank in Clarkston after wiring the money to an offshore account. They’d given him a receipt.
He was looking at a transaction that might put him on death row.
After the White Eagle killing, Wyatt searched the internet for information on the death penalty in Idaho. Some twenty inmates were awaiting execution. Death could come by lethal injection or firing squad, apparently at the discretion of the director of the state’s Department of Corrections. One man decides whether you get poked with a needle or shot by a firing squad if death from legal injection “was not practical,” claimed the article. What makes it not practical?
The thought chilled him.
All over a stinking creek the Indians controlled. A creek that ran through his land. A creek that became heavily regulated, a bureaucratic ruling that might destroy everything his family owned. Years and years of ranching down the tubes because of an agreement between the government and the Nez Perce.
And Tommy White Eagle was the reason Wyatt might end up on death row.
He took a match and lit the receipt, watching the paper curl and blacken in the flames. In for a penny, in for a pound. They had to prove the money he shipped out of the country was payment for a killing here in Idaho. And they had to connect him to the murder.
The killer is paid. The deed is done. Tommy White Eagle is no longer a threat.
Now another man took his place. The killer. The only person who could link Wyatt to Tommy’s murder.
Creasy watched his online account. Electronic transfer data emerged on the screen, a five followed by four zeros. He was $50,000 richer for killing a man he’d already decided to kill. Getting paid to exact his own revenge. And making them think Tommy boy was playing around with Robinette’s wife — just icing on the cake. One more person the cops might suspect killed the Indian.
He closed the website for his offshore account and switched to his favorite airlines. He scanned the flights to California, chose one, and paid by credit card listed in the name of a man who never existed. He had a few more calls to make before his next hunting trip.
One more prey to take care of before tightening the screws to Travis. And then — satisfaction. That moment when he would slip a wire garrote around the coward’s neck and watch him do the chicken. Watch him jerk his way into eternity.
Brian Wyatt drove onto the gravel road leading to his ranch. He came to a stop, climbed out of the truck and strolled over to the mailbox. Only one envelope inside. He glanced at the sender’s name and froze.
Tommy White Eagle.
Mail from a dead man? He tore it open and scanned the cover letter and a copy of a legal filing. The letter explained a complaint had been lodged against him for violation of the water rights act. A hearing had been set in a couple months.
Wyatt felt his stomach churning. The killing. The money. All in vain. This two-bit shyster filed with the courts before he got whacked.
It was now a matter of public record.
Wyatt opened the truck door with shaky hands. He crawled in, listening to the engine rumbling. He had to figure out how to protect himself. It would only be a matter of time before cops starting putting the pieces together and wound up with his name. It would become obvious he benefited from the killing.
But could they prove it?
They’d find evidence of money transferred from his account and wired overseas. They’d try to track the money, but maybe they can’t break down the wall to gain access to that offshore account. After all, that’s why people paid all that money to set those things up for privacy. To keep their money away from prying eyes like the IRS, right? So, how would he explain this? An investment? Money for an investment in another country.
Sounds lame. Stupid. He’d have to think up a better story. Who could prove he was lying?
The killer.
The man he’d hired to fix everything. The murderer could link Wyatt to this killing if the cops forced the hired gun to talk. Murder for hire. That had a nasty ring. He knew they’d rather let the killer off easy to get to the person who hired the killer. Happened all the time in the movies.
Let’s make a deal.
He must figure a way to silence the killer.
Kill the killer.
Again, he shuddered. The man scared him. This guy enjoyed hurting others. That was the look Wyatt saw when he looked into the killer’s eyes. But he is human, made of flesh and blood. He bleeds just like everyone else. Right?
Wyatt would just have to figure how to make this guy bleed. Make him bleed to death.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Chapter 29
Grangeville, Idaho
Travis handed the cell phone back to Frank. “Jessie’s not answering. You sure she went to her friend’s house?”
Frank scowled. “How should I know? A father can never be sure what his children will do. She’s got a mind of her own.”
A patrol car from the Idaho County Sheriff’s Department rolled past them and entered the parking area designated for department vehicles. Travis saw a uniformed deputy in green khakis get out and walk toward the station house. “Steele said he’d meet us here in a few minutes.”
The ride over with Frank did not go well.
Frank wanted to know where Travis thought the investigation ought to head.
Travis couldn’t say. It seemed they’d been churning away like two hamsters in a cage, running on a wheel that went nowhere. Always coming up empty or getting beat to a lead by someone out there in the shadows. He wanted to start from the beginning and take a fresh look at everything. And the beginning was where they found Tommy’s body.
Frank’s impatience put an edge to their conversation: his son murdered, his daughter targeted by a sniper. Travis knew the cop in Frank wanted answers. The father in him wanted payback.
And Travis was running dry. He just couldn’t seem to make sense of anything.
They found Steele waiting in the lobby. “Thought I saw you guys pull up. Let’s head to my office where I keep the files.” They took the stairs to the second floor and traversed the hallway to Steele’s office. The door was locked. “Like to keep things buttoned up when I’m not around.” He unlocked it and ushered them in.
Travis scanned the files after Steele explained the filing system. He pulled out one of the files marked Crime Scene Photos. “You want to pass on this,” Travis said, eying Frank before opening it.
The older man glanced at the box and shook his head. Turning to Steele, he said, “Where can a guy get a decent cup of coffee?”
“Come on. I’ll show you. Coffee’s on me if you can drink the stuff.”
Travis opened the file as he listened to
their receding footsteps. He fanned out a stack of photographs on Steele’s desk in the order of how they documented the crime scene. He placed the shots of Tommy’s body in the center to understand its positioning, the close-ups of clothing and anything else the photographers or detectives felt important. Tommy’s eyes were open and staring into the camera lens with a look of surprise. Eyes vacant, lifeless. He shuffled the other photos around the body as he remembered the crime scene sketch.
The body lay on its back, arms spread and legs together. Steele said the coroner confirmed what everyone already knew. Gunshots to the head and chest, each shot potentially fatal. He reached into the box, pulled out the coroner’s report and scanned through the autopsy report. The medical examiner determined the body had been moved after the killing. Once at the final resting place, the killer forcibly positioned the body just as the camera captured it.
He peered at several full-body shots. Each shot verified the image in Travis’ mind. The killer pushed and pulled Tommy’s remains into the form of a cross, arms outstretched, legs and feet tight together: the body laid out on a slope, head higher and feet lower, the sightless eyes taking in the canyon below.
The coroner noted there were two small puncture marks of equal size on the chest in what the doctor described as the pectoralis major muscle. He shuffled through the photos until he saw one showing a close-up of the upper chest. There they were. Two twin-like dots, tiny red marks above the left lung. Glancing at the coroner’s report again, he saw that whatever puncture wounds pierced the epidermis, they’d traveled through the dermis and subcuti layer of skin and lodged within the pectoralis major muscle.
Travis had seen these kinds of puncture wounds before.
Someone hit Tommy with a Taser while he was still alive to incapacitate him. One possible reason was later documented in the coroner’s report. They found bruising on the right inner arm above an artery, noting a possible injection site. Tommy’s attacker shot him up with a drug to stabilize and move him to another location while still breathing.
Where did the killer actually end Tommy’s life?
The evidence was clear — Tommy had not been shot where he was discovered. As Travis studied the coroner’s findings, matching them to the crime scene, he determined Tommy must have been moved at least three times, maybe four times. At the first location, the attacker must have hit Tommy with a Taser, paralyzing the lawyer. However, for whatever reason, the killer did not kill Tommy and leave his body at that location. Maybe the killer feared discovery. Next, the killer carted Tommy to a second location where he was ultimately shot to death. Then, the killer transported Tommy’s lifeless body to a third location where others eventually found the body. The time frame between when Tommy disappeared and when he body was discovered puzzled Travis. Marks on the body indicated Tommy was held captive for several weeks at one or more locations. Why the wait?
He took a second look at a file of lab results from evidence removed from the body and clothing around the body. He saw what the killer must have used to stabilize Tommy after Tasing him. Traces of Propofol, used to induce general anesthesia, indicating the victim was induced into a coma-like state before death. Investigators found samples of animal hairs and wood fibers lodged in or clinging to the body and clothing. As he read the report, he saw the findings were ripe with trace evidence — human and animal hairs, carpeting and wood fibers, food particles, and soil samples.
They had everything but where the killing took place.
This evidence would collaborate where Tommy was murdered if the actual site was discovered. The lab and the coroner’s findings concurred on one point — the killer was very close when he pulled the trigger. Trace evidence does not lie.
Travis continue to read each report, and then began going through all the interviews collected in the case. An hour later, he heard footsteps coming. Quickly, he gathered up the photos and shoved them into the file just as Steele and Frank returned. He stood to greet them.
Steele entered first, nodding toward his files. “So, what’d you think, professor?”
Travis glanced at Frank. “You sure you want to hear this?”
The older man nodded. “I need to know, Travis. Need to know everything.”
Nodding, Travis sat on the edge of the desk. “The killer got close enough to Tommy to use a Taser. They had to be face-to-face because the probes hit him straight on in the chest. The killer must have intravenously injected a sedative into Tommy’s right inner arm to further incapacitate him. Once unconscious, Tommy was moved to a second location where he was held until the time of his death. Either at that second location or moved to another. All three shots fired at close range. The killer then moved the body to the final location where it was found. Once at the final site, the killer positioned the body.”
He paused, looking at Frank and then back at Steele, before continuing. “The killer staged the body to appear as if it was crucified. Arms extended, palms out, legs together. I believe the killer might be sending us a message.”
Steele nodded. “That was my take on it, too. Now, professor, what was the message? I’ll take my hat off to you if you can answer that one.”
“Haven’t the foggiest. The way the killer relocated and staged the body, I know the whacko was trying to tell us something. It may have nothing to do at all with Tommy. He may have been …” Travis hesitated, looking quickly at Frank.
“Go ahead, Travis. I need to hear this.”
“Tommy may have just been a means to an end. A person the killer murdered in order to accomplish another goal. Another objective.”
Frank’s eyes widened. “You mean Tommy may have been randomly picked. It could have been anyone?”
“Truthfully, I don’t know. There may be dual purposes for selecting Tommy. He might have been killed because of something he did or knew. He might have been killed because he represented something the killer wanted to attack. Or, it may have been random and the killer’s sending someone else a message.”
“Who?” Steele put his cup down. “Who might he be sending a message to? One of us?”
Travis shrugged. “I don’t know. The killer must know that we would not release details of the body or the crime scene. And the fact this body was found in a remote area would suggest the killer meant to send a message to someone in law enforcement, someone this dirt bag knows would have access to the crime scene. The killer must have wanted the body found just the way it was. In a more urban setting, people might have moved or changed the body before the cops came.”
Steele wrinkled his brow. “But wouldn’t the killer know animals might go after the body? They could have devoured it before we ever found the body.”
“But they didn’t,” Travis said. “I found that strange until I saw this.” He pulled a sheet of paper from one of the files. “This gave me a clue.”
Steele read the report and his eyes widened. “I saw this, but I thought it was just some garbage a hiker left behind.”
Travis leaned on the desk. “Not garbage. It is an ultrasonic motion activator. A little machine that emits high-frequency waves. Scares off dogs, coyotes and other animals in close proximity. One of the techs picked it up, thinking like you did — just something left behind by backpackers. They did process it later, but the machine had been wiped clean. Also, they found high levels of commercial pesticides and other chemical compounds around the body that would have given off a scent strong enough to ward off animals.”
Steele handed the report back to Travis. “Well, the killer definitely wanted us to see the body just the way he left it.”
Frank finally spoke. “Maybe I’m the one he’s trying to send a message to. Think about it. He murdered my son, took a shot at my daughter, and he knew I’d have access to the crime scene.”
Travis put a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “It may have nothing at all to do with you. We need to keep working this thing until we get answers. They will come in time.” He shoved the remaining reports into the box and pushed
it toward Steele. “Would you mind having your staff make copies of the lab reports and coroner’s report for me at some point? I’d like to go over this more carefully after I’ve had time to think about it.”
“No problem,” Steele said.
Frank glanced at him. “I appreciate you going through this, Travis. I needed to know, but I don’t think I could look at it very objectively.”
“We’ll catch this guy, Frank. He’s leaving us tons of clues. Sooner or later, we’ll nab him.”
Steele picked up the box. “I just hope we find him before he does this to somebody else. It doesn’t take a shrink to know this guy is a bubble off plumb.”
“There’s one more thing we need to keep in mind,” Travis said, looking at the other two. “The evidence suggests this guy has killed before. Something is driving this nut, and he is likely to strike again until we understand what he’s trying to tell us.”
Chapter 30
Kamiah, Idaho
Lisa Penny started in on Jessie the minute they left Tommy’s law office. “I know your father did not have this in mind. He was clear — stay at my place out of sight. Now I’m driving you to a guy’s house that might have killed Tommy. Are you crazy?”
“Lisa, just shut up. If you don’t want to help me, then take me back to my car and I’ll go alone.”
“Yeah, right. Let you face the killer alone? Your dad would be all over me if I deserted you. Just for the record, though, I think this is a terrible idea.”
Jessie smiled. “You’re a good friend, even if you’re a coward.”
“A coward?” Lisa tossed her hair back with indignation. “A coward wouldn’t go to a potential killer’s house.”
