DEATH STILL (Det. Jason Strong (CLEAN SUSPENSE) Book 7)

by John C. Dalglish

  Lind rubbed his forehead. “Well, let’s see. We put it up for sale last week. We’d had a couple calls, nothing serious, and Barb had a man stop by.”

  Jason took out his pad. “When was that?”

  “Three or four days ago. Barb told him to come back when I was here.”

  “Did he do so?”

  “No. And I’m sure Barb wouldn’t have let him in without me being here.”

  Jason felt sure that was exactly what happened. “Did your wife tell you the man’s name?”

  “No. Just said he was from out of town, looking for him and his wife, and he took some photos.”

  “Any physical description?”

  “No. She did mention he wore a shirt and tie. I think she thought he stopped by on his way to work.”

  Jason made some notes. “Did she mention anything else, like maybe the car he was driving?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I can’t remember anything specific.”

  Jason closed his book and took out a card, handing it to Mr. Lind. “Please call if you think of anything else.”

  Dave Lind stared at it blankly. “Of course.”

  *******

  Jason stopped halfway down the staircase to the basement. Scanning the room, he took in the scene, looking for something he may have missed at the previous murder.

  He was also looking for similarities to the previous murder, and they were obvious. Female victim, tied to a chair, wrists cut, body bled out. Two chairs, facing each other. Jason spotted a glint under the empty chair.

  He went over, bent down, and seeing the blade, waved at the photographer. “Get a shot of that.”

  After several flashes, Jason put on gloves, and picked up the blade by the edges. He placed it in the evidence bag Vanessa held open for him. He added the blade to the list of things in common with the first murder.

  “Looks like victim number two. The husband said his wife wouldn’t have let anyone in without him being here.”

  Vanessa was taking notes and didn’t look up. “I asked Danny if he found any signs of forced entry. He said no.”

  “My guess is our guy is slick, and she probably thought he was harmless.”

  “Yeah, right up until he did this.” Vanessa pointed at the victim’s feet. “No shoes. I wonder why he has them take off their shoes but leaves them dressed.”

  Jason shrugged. “Likes feet?”

  Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Boy, you’re good!”

  The medical examiner’s assistant looked up at Jason. “Okay if we untie her?”

  “Yeah, but make sure we get the ropes.”

  Vanessa closed her notebook. “You want to go check on the neighborhood canvas?”

  Jason nodded and followed his partner up the steps.

  *******

  Marcus held the Death Still at arm’s length.

  Masterful! You catch the moment of death unlike any other artist.

  He slipped the photo onto the last page of the album titled ‘BARBARA LIND.’

  He set the album on the shelf, next to ‘MELISSA CHILDS,’ and smiled to himself.

  These will be your legacy. The last few days of a life and the moment of death. Fantastic!

  Chapter 11

  Jason’s phone rang on the way into the station the next morning.

  “Strong.”

  “Morning, Jason. I’ve got something you might be interested in.”

  “Okay. Who is this?”

  “Boy, you go away for a few weeks and they don’t even recognize you anymore!”

  “John Patton?”

  “Lieutenant John Patton to you.”

  Jason could sense his friend’s grin through the phone. “Oh, of course. My mistake. Are you at the station?”

  “I am. I gave Banks a couple days off.”

  “You mean you kicked her out of your office.”

  “Jason! Why would you accuse me of such malice?”

  “Again, my mistake. What was it you called about?”

  “We got a call this morning from a rental agent who said he recognized your sketch.”

  Jason’s pulse quickened. “Excellent. Which agency?”

  “Advantage Rent-a-Car. It’s located on Highway 281, not far from the Hertz lot.”

  “I don’t remember the name. Did we fax them a copy of the sketch?”

  “No. He saw it in the newspaper.”

  “Okay, is Vanessa there?”

  “Not yet. I’ll fill her in when she gets here.”

  “Good. I’m headed to Advantage now.” Jason turned on his blinker, needing to go the other direction. “And John…Lieutenant…it’s nice to see you back.”

  “Thank you, Jason.”

  *******

  Jason couldn’t understand how they missed Advantage Rent-a-Car. It was no more than a hundred yards from the Hertz office where they’d spent almost an hour. Granted, it wasn’t a major rental outfit, but still should have been checked.

  There wasn’t much activity when Jason arrived, and nobody came to greet him when he went inside. After several minutes, Jason leaned over the counter and called into the back room.

  “Hello!”

  He heard a door slam, and a young man came to the counter. “I’m sorry. My help called in sick, and I’m alone. How can I help you?”

  Jason looked at the name embroidered on the shirt. “Wayne, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Detective Strong.” He showed his badge. “I was told someone had reported seeing a man matching our sketch.”

  “Oh, yeah. That was me.”

  “You saw the sketch in the newspaper, is that right?”

  “Yeah. The sketch looks exactly like Larry Green.”

  “Larry Green?” Jason had his pad out. “Do you have his info?”

  Wayne went to a desk, slid open a large drawer, and returned with a folder. “I pulled it after I called.”

  Jason opened the file and found the driver’s license. The picture was the same as the first driver’s license, only this time Doug Turner was Larry Green. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Green?”

  “Yesterday afternoon when he returned his latest car.”

  Dang, missed him by one day. He’d killed Barbara Lind right before he returned the car.

  “Did he rent multiple vehicles?”

  “Yeah, four times. Same model but different colors. He said he wanted a spotless car each time for his clients.”

  “Has the car he returned yesterday been cleaned?”

  “All our cars are cleaned the same day.”

  Of course they are!

  “I’m going to need that car, anyway. I want my forensic team to go over it.”

  “Okay…I guess.”

  “I’ll get the necessary paperwork for your boss. Thanks for calling, Wayne. Can you make me a copy of these forms?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

  When Wayne returned, he handed several sheets of paper to Jason. Jason gave a copy of the sketch and his card to Wayne. “Will you call me if you see him again?”

  “Sure, sure. No problem.”

  *******

  Jason had still not heard from Vanessa by the time he got back to station. Coming in out of the midday sun, the cool of the building felt good.

  Jason paused briefly, like he did most days, to look at the picture of his fallen friend. He still missed Nina Jefferson, and looking at her picture on the memorial wall reminded him to thank the Lord for his blessings.

  He took the elevator up and when doors opened on the third floor of the station, Jason found a party going on without him. Vanessa was sitting on her desk. John Patton was sitting in his rolling desk chair, which had made its way to the middle of the room, and several others were huddled around.

  They didn’t notice Jason at first. “Nobody told me there was a party. Was I supposed to bring a gift?”

  Vanessa didn’t bother getting off the desk. “No.”

  “Oh good, I was worried.”

 
; She pointed at the lieutenant. “Lieutenant Patton was just regaling us with the details of his surgery and recovery.”

  John Patton was clearly enjoying his ten minutes of fame. “It’s a good story, Jason. You want me to start over?”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “Maybe some other time.”

  The elevator doors opened again, and this time Doc Davis got off. “Am I missing something?”

  Jason waved his arm at the gathering. “That’s what I was wondering. Obviously you weren’t invited either?”

  “Nope, but I heard the esteemed John Patton had returned, so I thought I would deliver the Lind autopsy in person.”

  Vanessa jumped off the desk. “Oh, good. Let me see that.”

  Jason reached over and snagged it from the doc. “Now Vanessa, you don’t worry about this. Just enjoy yourself.”

  Jason sat at his desk and opened the file. “What’s the short version, Doc?”

  “Mrs. Lind died by bleeding out, no sign of rape, and no hairs or fibers from our killer. Mid to late afternoon would be T.O.D.”

  “Not much.”

  Doc Davis agreed. “Afraid not. The only other thing was some small puncture wounds in the victim’s back. My guess is a knifepoint.”

  Jason closed the file. “Probably how he initially gained control of her.”

  Vanessa reached again for the file and Jason relented, letting her have it. She gave him a dirty look.

  Doc Davis turned to Lieutenant Patton. “Welcome back, John. Good to see you.”

  “Thanks, Doc. It’s even better to see you guys.” The lieutenant stood up and rolled his chair back toward his office. Stopping to look over his shoulder, he sneered at the group. “Don’t you people have work to do?”

  Vanessa looked at Jason. “Doc Josie?”

  “Sounds good.”

  *******

  They rode the elevator to the basement with Doc Davis. When the doors opened, Doc went left, while the two detectives turned right.

  Doc Josie was in her office and greeted them with her usual big smile. “Hey, you two.”

  “Hi, Doc. We wanted to know if you found anything useful on the Lind murder.”

  “Not much. Ropes match the Melissa Childs case, as does the razor blade. We’ll be processing the rental car this afternoon.”

  “Good. Did you get the ropes from Hondo police?”

  Doc Josie held up a baggie. “Right here. They match both of our cases. I called Dan Carpenter and let him know.”

  The detectives turned to go. ‘Thanks, Doc. Let us know if the rental turns anything up.”

  “Will do.”

  Chapter 12

  Claire Carson stood at the stove in the kitchen of her small home. Her blonde hair pulled up in a bun, an apron around her slim waist, she stirred a pot of chili. Greg, her husband of three years, was due home anytime.

  They were high school sweethearts in a small Kansas town, Greg one year ahead of her. He’d joined the military right out of high school, and they’d married after she graduated.

  Stationed at Lackland Air Force base, Greg was just finishing a four-year tour of duty, and tonight they would decide if he should re-up for another four-year stint. Claire wanted to move back home, but Greg was afraid he wouldn’t find work.

  They’d bought the small home about three miles from Lackland because they didn’t want to live on base. Claire was feeling cramped and wanted something bigger.

  Actually, Claire wanted a family, and therefore a bigger home. Greg also wanted a family but didn’t want to be deployed overseas while his kids grew up, or worse yet, when they were born.

  Claire appreciated how good the military had been to them, and the security it provided helped bring her and Greg through the early years of their marriage. She didn’t resent their time here.

  Claire accepted the reality of signing on to be a military wife, and Greg loved his job, which made her happy. Still, she longed for home.

  She heard the front door. “Hi, babe.”

  Greg came into the kitchen and wrapped her in a bear hug. “Hi. How was your day?”

  “Oh, you know, it never stops when you’re the wife of an air force brat!”

  He squeezed her harder. “Are you calling me a brat?”

  She broke free and carried the chili to the table. “If the shoe fits…”

  “You mean if the wings fit!” He brought bowls and spoons to the table before sitting down.

  Claire went to the fridge, took out sour cream and shredded cheese, and joined her husband. Greg was already filling their bowls. “Your chili is the best!”

  He topped his with a large scoop of sour cream and a handful of cheese. Claire bypassed the toppings, trying to keep her figure. They ate in silence, both thinking about the decision they planned to make after dinner.

  When they were done, Greg helped clean up and then took Claire by the hand. “Come with me.”

  She let him lead her into the living room, where he sat her on the couch, then kneeled down in front of her. Claire’s heart started to pound, sensing something big was coming. Greg usually wasn’t this dramatic.

  “Claire Carson, I have something to ask you.”

  “Greg, you’re freaking me out. What’s this all about?”

  “I have something to ask you.”

  “You said that. Please get to it.”

  He let a grin take over his face, erasing his serious expression. “Claire Carson, will you move back to Kansas and start a family with me?”

  Instantly, her eyes filled with tears, and she started to laugh. “Really?”

  He ran his thumb across her cheek, wiping at the tears running down her face. “Really.”

  She buried her head in his shoulders, hugging his neck. When she pulled herself loose, he was staring at her. “What?”

  His eyebrows arched upward. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “You didn’t answer me, will you go?”

  She punched him. “You know the answer!”

  She took his hand in both of hers. “What about re-enlisting? I know you love the service.”

  “I already told my Commanding Officer my decision.”

  She hugged him again. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.” He touched the end of her nose playfully. “So, the first thing we need to do is sell the house.”

  *******

  Marcus popped the top on his third beer. He was spending the evening going through the albums. Each picture generating a combination of emotion and pride. He could tell the second album was better quality than the first, and the third would no doubt to be better still.

  After number three, it’d be time to move on. Another city, new subjects, new rental agencies. Eventually, he would have an incredible collection of artistic albums, and when he shared them with the world, he would earn a reputation as one of the renowned photographers of his generation.

  He sat staring at the final photo of Barbara Lind. It took him back to his inspiration, to the beginning of his art.

  At seventeen, he’d come home from high school to find his mother in the living room of their apartment, laid back in the recliner. Her hands hung off the sides of the La-Z-Boy, both wrists sliced open, her blood staining the carpet around the chair.

  Marcus remembered being frozen at the entrance to the living room, not being able to move, nor wanting to. He knew she was dead, and he was fascinated by the scene.

  Dressed in her best Sunday outfit, she had fixed her hair and put makeup on. Her shoes were left side by side, next to the chair, and her bare feet were crossed at the ankles.

  He remembered thinking how magnificent death was, how final, and even beautiful. He’d stood staring for a long time before calling the police.

  Marcus let his gaze wander from the album in his lap to the pencil drawing on the wall. A five-by-seven black, plastic frame held the sketch of his mother’s final moment. He’d made it from memory the same night, in the privacy of his bedroom, and had never
shown it to anyone.

  Over the past twenty years, he’d studied the sketch, focusing on each detail, and committing the scene to memory. He wanted to create art based on that night, and his move to San Antonio seemed to be the perfect time to begin.

  Photography was his passion and the perfect medium for his art. He would wait until the world was ready for his work, ready to appreciate his art, before giving it to them. For now, he would spend his time creating.

  *******

  Jason and Vanessa sat at their desks the next morning, calling For Sale by Owner listings. Neither had found a lead worth investigating.

  The few sellers who had a single man come look at their home were sent a patrol officer with a copy of the sketch, but none had recognized their suspect.

  His phone rang. “Strong.”

  “Jason, this Doc Josie.”

  “Hi, Doc. What’s up?”

  “We finished processing the rental car last night.”

  Jason perked up. “Tell me you found something for us?”

  “Well, yes and no. We found blood in the car, next to the gas pedal, probably from the killer’s shoe. It matched the blood of Barbara Lind. That’s the good news, but unfortunately, we didn’t find any trace evidence from our killer. Not even fingerprints.”

  “Okay, Doc. I doubt the rental agency cleaned it to the degree you’re describing, so our guy is probably wiping the vehicle before he returns it.”

  “That would be my guess.”

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  “Any time.”

  Jason was tired of dead ends. They needed a break. At a time like this, prayer never hurt. He closed his eyes.

  *******

  Claire stopped the next day at Wal-Mart and bought a sign. She’d convinced Greg they could sell the house themselves. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea.

  “I don’t want you taking this on, Claire.”

  “We can’t afford a realtor. They’ll eat up what little equity we have, forcing us to raise the price, and the house will take longer to sell.”