by Sala, Sharon
“Detective Bruner, Homicide.”
“Detective Bruner, this is Detective Spick. I’m working a homicide on a man who was found murdered in his car out by Cherry Creek Reservoir. I was reading your BOLO regarding the Jason Dunleavy shooter, and my murder victim has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm that look like gang images. He’s also left-handed, which would match the info on the BOLO. The name is Rey Garza, and that’s spelled R-E-Y.”
Bruner’s pulse kicked up as he reached for a pen and paper.
“Do you have photos of the tattoos?” Bruner asked.
“Yes. They’re in the file. We also recovered a gun from Garza’s car that’s the same make as the one you’re looking for in the Dunleavy shooting. I can’t prove that any of this is a match, but it looks good on the surface,” Spick said.
Bruner tapped his pen against the paper. “I would need a ballistics test on that gun, and pictures of the tattoos to show my witness.”
“I can ask the medical examiner’s office to send you the pictures, and get a ballistics test run for you,” Spick said.
“Chief Forsythe is breathing down all our necks to solve this,” Bruner said. “So thank you for the info, and let me know as soon as you get the ballistics test back.”
“No problem,” Spick said. “And there’s one more thing. The coroner called me and a Detective Reed from another precinct into the morgue at the same time because he found an unusual common denominator between my vic and another body he’d worked. While they’d both been killed with the same make of handgun, which isn’t all that surprising, it was the bullet holes between their eyes that caught his attention. He said the single shots that killed both vics was in the same exact place on their faces. Not even a millimeter of difference. Right between the eyes, with equal margins between the shots and the eyebrows. After that, he checked the striation on the bullets he pulled out of the vics, and they were a match to the same gun.”
“Wait! What was the name of Reed’s victim?” Bruner asked.
“Buddy Pierce, but he lived in a different part of the city from Rey Garza.”
“Okay, I’ll make a note and check it out,” Bruner said.
When the digital pictures Spick had requested arrived. Bruner took one look at them, then reached for the phone to call Megan Simmons, the witness who saw Jason’s shooter.
She answered quickly.
“This is Detective Bruner, Denver PD. May I speak to Megan Simmons?”
“This is Megan.”
“Would you be willing to come in and view a photo lineup of tattoos? We may have a lead to the Jason Dunleavy shooting.”
“I can be there within the hour.”
“Great,” Bruner said. “I’ll leave word at the front desk to have you escorted to an interview room.”
“All right. See you in a little while,” Megan said.
As soon as he hung up, he began picking out more photos. Now all he needed was for her to ID the tattoo that belonged to Rey Garza, and he might just have found his shooter.
Once he had the lineup and an interview room reserved, he glanced at the time. Megan Simmons would be here soon. He needed to let the front desk know where to bring his witness.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and an officer walked in with Megan Simmons.
“Detective Bruner, your witness is here.”
Bruner stood and quickly shook her hand. “Megan, thank you for coming at such short notice. Just have a seat here,” he said. “I want you to look through these photos and see if any of them fit the description of what you saw.”
Megan set her purse aside and calmly stepped up to examine them. Bruner was impressed by how she immediately removed three.
“None of these,” Megan said. “They’re too ornate, and I didn’t see any color on the shooter.” Then she reached for the one Detective Spick had just sent. “This looks like what I saw.”
“You’re sure?” Bruner asked.
She didn’t hesitate. “I’m sure. I’m a nurse. We’re trained to observe. Sometimes the smallest things will be the only warning we get before a patient starts to crash. And while I was watching the whole thing unfold, from Mr. Dunleavy slamming on the brakes to the other car flying through the intersection like the stoplight wasn’t even there, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I wish I’d seen his face, but when I saw that arm come out of the open window, and then the gun in his hand, that’s where my focus stopped and stayed.”
“You’ve been a great help, more than you can imagine. Wait a moment and I’ll walk you out.”
Bruner gathered up the photos, slipped them into a manila envelope and escorted her to the front door.
“Thank you, and have a safe trip home,” Bruner said.
“You’re welcome,” Megan said.
* * *
As soon as Charlie and Carter got back to the estate, Carter went to his office, and Charlie went upstairs with the new information. But when he found Wyrick in deep concentration, he hated to interrupt.
“I know you’re there,” Wyrick said. “I’m listening.”
“I’ll wait until—”
“I can do two things at once. Talk,” she said, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
“Jason Dunleavy broke up with Miranda Deutsch about two hours before he was shot. She didn’t take it well. She was screaming at him and cursing when he hung up. Just to tie up loose ends, when you run a background check on her, see if there’s any way to connect her to the cases on Carter and Jason.”
“Why would she want Carter gone if she’s dating Jason?” Wyrick asked, still typing.
Charlie was fascinated watching how fast her fingers moved, and almost forgot to answer.
“Oh...uh...it was a thought I had.”
“To the point of killing one rich man to marry another rich man in the same family? That’s mental illness, if you ask me, but duly noted,” Wyrick muttered. “With regard to Wilma Short. I found something.”
Charlie pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. “What did you find?” he asked.
“A large lump sum of money deposited into her mother’s bank account four months ago. Before the deposit, the only money that came in was the mother’s Social Security money, but it was used to pay part of her monthly care. After that deposit, Wilma began using it to pay for all her mother’s care.”
“How much was deposited?” Charlie asked.
“Half a million dollars,” Wyrick said. “But there’s no way to trace it. It was deposited as cash, and I haven’t been able to match up a withdrawal of that size to anyone we know.”
“Good job,” Charlie said. “That pretty much proves she was the inside person here at the estate. But there has to be at least one more person who was responsible for trying to wreck Carter on the freeways and who could have known how to cut the brake line.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about Miranda,” she said. “Now, go away. I need to think.”
“You said you could do two things at once,” Charlie said as he got up.
“I can, but you’re slowing down the process.”
Charlie eyed the slight frown between her eyebrows, and the neon-yellow leather she was wearing and wondered why she bothered to get this dressed up in Carter’s home.
“Why are you still here?” Wyrick asked without looking up.
“You’re not the only one who can think of two things at once,” Charlie muttered, then got up and walked out of the room.
He took off his shoes, helped himself to a cold drink from the wet bar and started going through emails and paying bills online. He might be away, but that didn’t stop what was happening back home.
* * *
Detective Bruner kept staring at the names Buddy Pierce and Rey Garza. He had a positive ID from Megan Simmons as to Garza being the shooter. He’d alr
eady pulled up rap sheets on both men, and they were lengthy, with a multitude of charges between them. Now he wanted to find out if Carter or Jason Dunleavy knew these men. He had a number for Jason’s room at the hospital. He called him, then counted the rings until Jason answered.
“Hello.”
“Jason, this is Detective Bruner. I have new information. Would it be possible to visit you for a few minutes?”
“Yes. No problem,” Jason said.
“I want to talk to your uncle, as well. Do you have a number where he can be reached?”
“Call his cell phone. That way you won’t have to go through the housekeeper, who usually answers the house phone.”
“Thanks,” Bruner said and quickly wrote down the number Jason gave him. “I’ll see you shortly.”
Bruner then called Carter to make sure he’d be available, too. The call rang twice and then Carter answered.
“Mr. Dunleavy?”
“Yes.”
“This is Detective Bruner. Would you be able to see me today?”
“Yes. I’m home all day,” Carter said.
“I’m on my way to see Jason now, and when I’m finished there, I’ll let you know,” Bruner said.
“I’ll be expecting you,” Carter said.
Bruner grabbed his file and left the precinct. A short while later, he was at the hospital again, exiting the elevator. Once he reached Jason’s room, he encountered two guards and immediately flashed his badge.
“Jason is expecting me,” he said. “Just a minute, sir. Mr. Jason has been having a rough morning. Let me check,” the guard said. He opened the door and stepped into the room. “Mr. Dunleavy, Detective Bruner is here. Are you ready for visitors?”
“I’m fine, Danny. The pain meds are kicking in,” Jason said and raised his bed up to a sitting position as Bruner entered.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you weren’t up to visitors today. You should have said something when I called,” Bruner said.
Jason shook his head. “Just pain. But the meds they gave me are beginning to work. Tell me about this new lead!” he said.
Bruner took a picture out of the file he’d brought with him.
“Your witness, Megan Simmons, just identified this tattoo as the one she saw on the shooter’s arm. Unfortunately, it was taken before the coroner began an autopsy on his body.”
“You mean this man is dead?” Jason asked.
“Yes. His name was Rey Garza. Do you know anyone by that name?”
“It isn’t familiar, but there are thousands of people who work at our different facilities. Do you have a picture?” Jason asked.
“I have the one on his rap sheet.” Bruner took it out of the file and handed it over.”
Jason looked at the face intently, then shook his head. “No, sorry. He isn’t the least bit familiar to me.”
Bruner pulled Buddy Pierce’s rap sheet out next. “What about his man? His name is Buddy Pierce.”
Jason looked at that one as well, and shook his head again. “No, don’t know him, either. What’s the connection between these two men?”
“The coroner thinks there’s a strong possibility that both men were killed by the same gun. We’re trying to find a link between the two, in the hope that it leads us to the person behind all this,” Bruner said.
“What does Uncle Carter think?”
“He doesn’t know yet, but I’m going there next. If something does occur to you, call me. I’ll leave my card.”
“Will do,” Jason said, laying the card aside.
“Thank you for your time. Hope you have a better day,” Bruner said and left the room.
His next stop was the castle.
* * *
Charlie was answering emails and running background checks for a couple of new clients when someone knocked at his door.
“Come in,” he said.
It was Carter. “Charlie, do you have a minute?”
He closed his laptop. “Yes, sure. What’s up?”
“Detective Bruner is coming over shortly with some new information. Would you and Wyrick sit in on it?”
“Absolutely. Do you have any idea what it’s about?” Charlie asked.
Carter shook his head. “No, but maybe he has a new lead.”
“Just so you know, we have some new information ourselves, and since Bruner is working Wilma Short’s murder, I’ll share it with him, too. Wyrick found a half-million-dollar cash deposit in the bank account belonging to Wilma’s mother. Wilma has been paying her mother’s monthly care out of it for the past four months. But since it was a cash deposit, Wyrick hasn’t been able to match it with anyone in your circle of family and employees.”
Carter stared at him. “A half-million dollars to take me out? Who in the hell hates me that much?”
“We’ll find out,” Charlie said. “And maybe Bruner’s info will be a good lead.”
“For sure,” Carter said, and then the phone in his pocket buzzed. He glanced down at the text. “Detective Bruner is waiting for us in the library.”
“I’ll get Wyrick,” Charlie said and walked into Wyrick’s suite, where she was working.
“Are you at a stopping point? Carter wants us downstairs. Detective Bruner is here with some new information.”
Wyrick nodded, typed two more words and hit Save, then joined the men without comment as they headed down the stairs.
Eighteen
Bruner was sitting in a wingback chair and texting on his phone when they entered. He immediately put it away as he stood.
“Here we are, Detective, as requested,” Carter said. “I don’t believe you’ve met Miss Wyrick. She’s Mr. Dodge’s assistant. Wyrick, this is Detective Bruner.”
Bruner didn’t even blink at the Amazon in yellow leather. “Ma’am,” he said and then shifted his focus to Carter Dunleavy. “We found the man who shot Jason. His name is Rey Garza—but before you celebrate that news, he was dead when we found him. The witness who saw Jason’s shooting has already identified him. And the gun in Garza’s car matches the kind Jason was shot with. We’re running a ballistics test on Garza’s gun to see if the striations match the bullet that was removed from Jason during surgery.”
Carter frowned. “Is this connected to Wilma’s murder?”
“We’re working that as a possibility,” Bruner said.
“What was his name?” Charlie asked.
“Rey Garza, and that’s spelled R-E-Y.”
Charlie knew Wyrick was mentally filing that name for further review.
“That’s not all,” Bruner said. “The coroner caught an odd similarity between Garza’s body, and another one that he autopsied—a man named Buddy Pierce. Both men had been shot, and the coroner said that both shots were right between the eyes, with the same distance above the nose and centered perfectly between each man’s eyebrows. And the bullets he pulled from their bodies were shot from the same gun.”
“Wait... Are you saying this Buddy Pierce might also be connected to both Dunleavy cases?” Charlie asked.
Bruner shrugged. “It’s a theory we’re working on.”
“After I found Carter and learned about all the different attacks he’d been under, he mentioned the possibility that there might be more than one person involved,” Charlie said.
“How so?” Bruner asked.
“Other than the chef, who doesn’t live on the premises, there are only women staffed inside the residence on a daily basis, so that would explain some of the incidents. But he also had a brake line tampered with and nearly wrecked twice on the freeway by a car suddenly cutting him off.”
Detective Bruner turned to Carter. “Was it the same vehicle that cut you off both times?” he asked.
“Yes. It was a dark red late-model Ford Escape,” Carter said.
Bruner made a note. “I’l
l check to see what kinds of cars both vics had.”
“If Pierce was driving a car that matched that description, then it would link his murder to Wilma Short and to Rey Garza,” Charlie said.
Wyrick turned around and walked out of the library.
Bruner looked a little startled.
Charlie quickly explained. “It’s nothing personal. She’s a woman of few words, but she’s damn good at her job. She’ll know the answer in about five minutes, give or take, counting the time it takes her to get upstairs.”
Charlie noticed that Bruner didn’t comment, which meant he didn’t believe what he’d just said. Charlie also knew Wyrick was about to change Bruner’s mind. He watched as Bruner pulled the pictures of both victims and handed them to Carter.
“These are the two men’s rap sheets. Have you ever seen either one of them before?” he asked.
Carter looked carefully at both, then handed them back.
“No. I’ve never seen those faces before, but there are so many people who work for the Dunleavy Corporation and all the subsidiaries that I can’t swear they aren’t any of our employees.”
Bruner shrugged. “That’s pretty much what Jason said.”
Charlie’s phone signaled a text. “It’s from Wyrick,” he said and read it aloud. “‘Buddy Pierce owned a 2016 Ford Escape. The color is Canyon Red.’”
“I’ll be damned,” Bruner said. “Okay, Dodge, you might be right about Pierce being part of the attacks on Carter, which means that not only is there someone trying to kill Carter and Jason, but he’s taking out the people who failed him.”
“Does that make him a serial killer?” Carter asked.
“No, because he just has one goal, and that’s to get to you and Jason,” Charlie said. “All he’s doing now is taking out the people he hired so they won’t talk.”
“That’s right, and it makes him one very dangerous man,” Bruner added.
“Or woman,” Charlie added.
“What made you say that?” Bruner asked.
