“We have three people from Peculiar: two shot in the back of the head, and one in the throat, but we don’t have the bullet from the first victim.”
“Have we gotten the tests on the bullets?” Bryce asked.
“They pulled one from the cabinet of the house where this guy was found. That went in for testing. I haven’t had a good look, but the throat shot may have lodged in the victim’s spine. No bullet was found in the room where he was killed. Once we have it, I’ll have the lab test it. I’m a betting man, and I’d bet at least these two bullets are from the same gun.”
Bryce snickered. “Duh.”
“Smartass. There’s always a chance it’s different guns.”
“Do you think the guy found in the trunk met the same gun?”
Dr. McClaren shrugged. “The burn pattern certainly looks similar on him and on this patient. But I doubt they’ll ever find that bullet.”
A knock sounded at the door to the lab. Bryce turned to see Kate’s face smashed against the small window.
“That’s my sister. She’s working this case. Can she come in?” Bryce said.
Dr. McClaren concentrated on Andy’s scalp, but nodded.
Bryce waved Kate in.
“Thanks. Who do we have here?” Kate said as she came through the door and immediately went to the closet to cover and glove up.
“This is Dr. Glen McClaren,” Bryce said.
Kate pulled on the gown, not bothering to tie it, then slipped gloves over her hands. She already had her hair pulled back, so she covered it with a surgical cap. “Dr. McClaren is the victim? I thought you were working on one of my victims.”
The doctor looked up. “We aren’t really set up for visitors. Is there something I can help you with?”
Kate blanched. She’d been in the lab many times with Dr. Ogelsby. “Oh, hi, I’m sorry. I didn’t know we had a new forensic pathologist.”
“Dr. O retired. You should really try to listen when I talk to you, if you’re going to keep visiting unannounced,” Bryce said, then handed Dr. McClaren some forceps.
“Dr. Oglesby trained you well,” Dr. McClaren said.
“Yeah,” Bryce said, trying hard to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“We’re looking at poor Mr. Andy Foss,” Dr. McClaren said. “And you are?”
“I’m looking at you, looking at Andy Foss,” Kate said.
“He meant, who are you, stupid.” Bryce rolled his eyes.
Kate glared at Bryce. “I’m Kate Darby. Andy Foss might be part of another murder I’m investigating.”
Dr. McClaren stood tall and turned to look at Kate. He pulled down his face mask and smiled his broad smile of pearly whites, the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes deepening. Bryce could see Kate appreciated the man’s military haircut, broad smile, dark brown eyes, and tanned skin. Bryce didn’t really think of Dr. McClaren as good-looking, until he saw him through Kate’s eyes.
Bryce worked hard to be handsome. Several laser treatments for the acne scars he’d gained as a teen made his skin smoother, but he’d never have that polished skin most guys had. He still had huge pores and had learned to live with them. The drug binge he continued until deciding to get a life didn’t help, either. It had taken its toll on his body. Being vain, Bryce worked out religiously, when he wasn’t working. He showered at least twice a day to keep his skin fresh, always worried the acne would return. He’d never have the dark skin women loved, but he didn’t care. Women still slept with him, and that’s all that mattered. He wasn’t looking for Mrs. Right, only Ms. Right Now. He didn’t have time for a relationship. He spent too much time with work and keeping his appearance maintained.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Kate. Bryce tells me you’re his sister. You don’t look anything alike. I guess that’s lucky for you. But you sure act like siblings.”
Bryce flipped the doctor off behind his back.
“We’re foster siblings. We were both adopted by the same family,” Kate said, moving closer to the examination table.
“Different last names?”
Bryce cleared his throat. “I was older when I was adopted, so I kept my last name. My parents were cool with it. A man needs to keep his family tree thriving. If I took their name, my tree would die with me. Can’t be having that.”
The doctor returned his concentration to Andy. “Absolutely not.”
“Not like he’ll ever stick with a girl long enough to have kids, but maybe a one-night stand will get pregnant,” Kate said.
“If I learned one thing from my foster dad, it was,” Bryce changed his voice, “‘always wear a raincoat, never trust the girl.”’
“Funny thing, Dad told me to never trust the guy,” Kate laughed.
Once the doctor turned away, Kate wiggled her brows. Bryce stuck his gloved finger in his mouth to gag. He pulled it out just as the doctor looked up.
“What do we know?” Kate stepped up to the table.
“We know he’s dead,” Bryce said.
“You’re in a mood. Didn’t get laid last night?” Kate said.
“Definitely siblings,” Dr. McClaren said, laughing. “I’m pretty sure the fentanyl killed him. From the looks of it, he was either dead, or nearly dead, from the drugs, and then someone lifted him by the hair on the top of his head to put the bullet through the back of his brain. Knocked out a few teeth in the process. Point blank range. We’re going to compare the burns along with the bullets. Whoever did this didn’t realize how close to dead our Andy already was, or he wouldn’t have wasted a bullet.” He shrugged, then said, “Or maybe he still would have.”
“Interesting,” Kate tried to sound interested, but Bryce knew better.
“What are you looking at now, Dr. McClaren?” Kate asked.
“Please, call me Glen,” he said, pushing Andy’s shoulder off the table and turning him on his side in preparation to roll him over. “Look here.”
Bryce helped reposition Andy onto his stomach and flat on the table.
“Hesitation, I think. Look at that,” Bryce said, pointing to the bullet wound at the base of Andy’s skull.
“Good call, Bryce. This isn’t a solid burn mark. It’s like the gun was held against him, but then moved before they pulled the trigger. This guy’s brain stem was obliterated by the bullet.” He looked at Kate. “Forgive the lack of medical terms; I find cops usually haven’t studied medicine, so it’s easier to speak in laymen’s terms.”
“Thanks,” Kate said.
“Would a person who’d killed before hesitate?”
“I’m not a killer, but I’d think unless this guy was a friend or relative, a person in his line of work wouldn’t hesitate. But I can’t be sure.”
“Our current person of interest for this killing isn’t a novice. I can’t be sure he’s killed before, but I damn sure don’t think he’d hesitate. If this goes the way I think it will, this guy was killed by the dealer he worked with. Those guys don’t have feelings for the people who screw them over.”
“Maybe it’s something for your notes,” Glen said.
“What about the other body at the scene?” Kate asked.
Bryce was sure she didn’t remember the victim’s name without the file in front of her. “You mean Leon?”
Kate nodded, not humble enough to be embarrassed she didn’t remember the name.
“I haven’t looked at the toxicology report yet, and we haven’t examined the body. Either way, they are both dead.” Dr. McClaren continued to poke and prod at the top of Andy’s head. He looked up at Bryce. “Grab the saw and let’s give this guy a skull cap.”
With that, Kate said, “I’d better get out of your way. Thanks.”
“For what? We didn’t tell you anything,” Bryce said, handing the skull saw to the doctor.
“For letting me know about the fentanyl and the burn marks. The fentanyl tells me some bad drugs are obviously being circulated. I’ll have to talk to Zane about this.”
Dr. McClaren said, “Zane?”
/> Bryce answered before Kate could. “Her ex-husband and her boss, Sergeant Zane Gwilly. Hopefully soon to be Lieutenant Gwilly.”
“Not married, huh?” was not the response Bryce expected out of the doctor.
“Not married,” Kate said. “You?”
McClaren answered with a smile Kate didn’t see. Bryce smiled because he knew this guy was hot for his sister. “Not anymore.”
Bryce didn’t want to be a witness to their flirting, so he said, “Got time for lunch? We’re taking a break right after Andy.”
“I don’t. But come by the house after work. You need to decide which room you’re going to live in.”
Bryce shook his head. “I’m fine where I am. That place is too far from the hospital.”
“The other day you were hot to move in. You said the bedrooms were larger than your apartment. Have you been talking to Zane? He said the house was too far from town.”
“I haven’t been talking to Zane. I still need to think it over. I’m not good with change,” Bryce said.
“What place?” McClaren asked.
“My sister inherited a pecan farm from the grandfather she never knew.”
“That’s sounds interesting. You’ll have to tell me the story sometime,” McClaren said as he started the skull saw.
Kate didn’t hear him as she stripped off her hat, gloves, and gown before bolting out of the room.
Bryce laughed out loud. “I’ll see you tonight. Want me to bring pizza or something?”
Kate was already out of the room and didn’t respond. He’d text her later.
Chapter 19
Kate hadn’t taken a real day off since she found the body in the trunk of the Mercedes. Though she’d spent more time at the plantation house, which she really needed to find a new name for, than she did at her place. She liked the open air of the property. And even with the stifling hot summer temperatures, a breeze always seemed to blow. She never thought of herself as a country girl, but she could change that.
She hadn’t seen Azizi in a day or so, and looked over at the tenant house as she got in her vehicle. She’d wanted to stop by and knock on the door, just to see the inside of the building, which looked like an old, square log cabin that had been plastered over in spots. She couldn’t see in the windows, and doubted the place even had electricity.
Kate reversed out of the driveway and as she stopped for possible traffic on the road, she thought she saw someone standing on the porch of Azizi’s house. She’d seen them in her rearview mirror, but when she looked again, no one was there. Her imagination, she supposed.
And then Glen’s bright smile popped into her head. He couldn’t be much older than her, and he seemed nice. She wondered if he might be single. He seemed interested enough when she said she wasn’t married. If the doctor hadn’t been cutting into the skull to expose brains, she might have invited him to visit her new home. Or would she?
It had been a long time since she shared her bed with a man. The few hook ups with Zane didn’t count, since she left his house before Zane could roll over and fall asleep. She still loved him so much it hurt, but she couldn’t hurt him by trying to repair the past and move forward. She wasn’t that kind of person. She’d already torn his heart to shreds when she divorced him. And no matter what she said, he couldn’t understand that the fault didn’t lie with anyone other than her total inability to commit. And she’d tried, Lord, she’d tried, but somehow being alone was her station in life.
Kate’s phone buzzed and she looked at the screen. Yes, cops had to text and drive. Hell, they typed on their laptop and drove. She hated the distraction, but it happened to be part of her job.
The text from Zane read, Video here.
A smile broadened across Kate’s face as she pressed the accelerator harder. Finally, maybe a break in the case. Though the people who died weren’t fine, upstanding citizens, and possibly the world wouldn’t miss them, they were someone’s son, father, brother, and she needed to deal the cards of justice, no matter who they were. Criminal or not, she promised she’d treat every case as if the victim were Mother Teresa, deserving of justice.
Parking her car, Kate jogged up to the station entrance and swiped her ID. Looking down the hall, she saw Zane. “Hey, are you set up already?”
Zane, who’d been walking away from her, turned. “I have us in interview one. Grab a cup of coffee and join me.”
Her rotation had her on days this week. Usually she dreaded the day shift because of the boredom and the stupid calls she had to go out on, not to mention the brass. Not this week. She planned to work her case along with working the streets. She could investigate better during business hours when managers worked and stores were open.
She didn’t see a coffee cup in Zane’s hand, so when she stopped at the coffee machine, she pulled two paper cups from the stack, slipped a sleeve over both, then poured creamer in before adding the coffee. Carefully placing lids on both, she listened and felt for the final pop that let her know the seal was tight. Spilling hot coffee on her hands wasn’t how she wanted to start her day.
One cup in each hand, she walked to the interview room. She placed one cup in the crook of her elbow, balancing it against her ribs as she opened the door with her now free hand. As soon as she got the door open, she used her booted foot as a doorstop and grabbed the coffee cup. Hitting the door with her hip, she walked into the room.
“I’m all set up,” Zane said. “Hope you’re wide awake. There’s a lot of video to go through.”
Kate handed Zane a cup. “I wasn’t sure if you’d had any yet this morning.”
Zane gladly accepted her offer. “I wanted to get set up. This was my next task. Thanks.”
Kate set her cup on the round Formica covered table. “Should I grab a notebook?”
“I’ve got two here.” Zane reached down into the case by his left leg and handed Kate a spiral pad. “We’ll need to mark down the name or number of the tape, and the time stamps of places we’re interested in.”
Kate sat down and pulled a pen from her breast pocket. “Can’t we just take our own video of the video?”
“We could, but we can’t use that as evidence if we need to. It could be manipulated. And we’ll need to mark the video to make it easier should this go to court. They don’t want to wade through all the video again just to find what we already found.”
“Great. Sounds like fun,” Kate said, and meant it.
“It’s going to be tedious, so be prepared.”
“Awesome. But I’d like to get this done and get out there. I don’t want the captain thinking I’m slacking.” Kate opened her notepad and scribbled circles at the top of the page to get the ink flowing in her pen.
“Slacking would be to not investigate these murders to our full potential.”
Kate settled in as Zane inserted the first of a stack of discs into the player. He picked up the remote control, and she rolled her eyes. How hard could it be to just stop and start from the player that was on the table and within a few inches from either of them?
An hour and a half later, Kate appreciated the remote, as Zane played, fast-forwarded, paused, rewound, and played again, at least a hundred times. “Want me to take over before you get carpel tunnel?” she asked.
“I’m good. The problem is that we don’t know when the car arrived in the parking lot. It’s only when we see the car that we’ll have any idea where to start. We can play the video at double speed until we spot the Mercedes.”
Four hours, five cups of coffee, and two bathroom breaks later, Kate swore off coffee. And when they settled back down, she said, “Stop, go back and then play in slow motion.”
“How far back?” Zane asked.
“I don’t know, maybe ten seconds?” Kate leaned closer to the screen, her eyes tired and dry.
Zane did as he was told, the clock on the video read, 12:15:30 when he hit play and slow motion. They had started each video at 22:00 and it had been slow going.
“See tha
t?” Kate pointed at the screen.
“What are you looking at?” Zane, irritated, leaned closer to the screen, too.
“It’s the Mercedes. At the McDonald’s drive-thru.”
“I wonder if they have video cameras in the drive thru,” Zane said.
The car drove away from the pickup window, stopped at the curb, then turned left. Out of sight. “Damn.”
“I didn’t see any McDonald’s trash in the car. Not even a spare french fry.”
“The car had been thoroughly cleaned, though. Maybe that was Marco driving,” Kate said.
They had watched video footage from six different cameras by the time they saw the white Mercedes at McDonald’s.
As Zane put the seventh disc in the player, he said, “At least now we only have to watch from midnight. Not all day.”
“We haven’t been watching all day as it is. Lord, shoot me now if we have to go back and watch these again. I thought for sure starting at ten o’clock would be good.” Kate sighed at the thought of being able to skip umpteen hours of footage. There were twenty-seven cameras in the Kroger parking lot. They had a long way to go.
Slouching down in the seat, Kate craved coffee, but she didn’t want to get up and lose more time. Besides, coffee led to peeing, and peeing took more time than making coffee. It was the damn vest. But she wasn’t about to get undressed to take it off, only to have to get dressed again to go out on patrol.
Barely paying attention, she found her thoughts straying, when they both saw it at the same time.
“There,” Zane said, just as Kate sat up in her chair.
“Boom,” Kate punched her fist into the air and sat up straighter. “Slow it down.”
In one-quarter time, they watched.
The white Mercedes pulled into view of the security camera at 2:12 am.
“That’s not the same car that was at the McDonald’s,” Kate said.
Zane leaned in, as if getting closer to the screen would tell him more. “What makes you say that?”
“The license plate color. I know it was too far away to read, but the plate on the car in the drive-thru was colored. This one is Texas white with black.” Kate pointed to the back plate as the Mercedes rolled out of view.
Angry Betty Page 13
