Rowan (The K9 Files Book 10)

by Dale Mayer

  “Usually with a possible murder suspect, we’d do a full forensic workup, but, as we just confirmed, nothing is here but ash. And not very much of the body was presented to my office. I just happened to see that a blade was still in her chest, mostly inside, not much showing externally.”

  “What about the handle on it?”

  The coroner shook his head. “No handle, just the blade. And even that was twisted from the heat.”

  “Right cheap metal.”

  “Any metal at that point,” he said. “Nothing can really withstand a fire like that. And it burned here for days, so it wasn’t just a flash of heat running through and then dying down. Plus enough fodder was here in these houses for the fires to keep burning for, I think, two days straight. Then the hillside here kept the fire going, and that band of trees on the side kept it going as well. Sometimes a forest fire will rip forward, but it will run out of things to consume. Under those circumstances, the fire itself burns out faster. However, in this case, with so much available here, it burned longer.”

  “So there is a chance that her death was a murder?” Rowan asked.

  “There’s a chance,” the coroner cautioned, “but I don’t have proof either way.”

  “Have you mentioned it to the cops?” Rowan asked him.

  “I have, but they’re doubtful that I can prove my belief, and honestly, I can’t. The fact of the matter is, her body burned in the fire. Whether she died first, I don’t know. The fire completely eclipsed everything.”

  “And how much do you have of my grandmother in your office?” she asked.

  He looked at her and gave her a sad smile. “Not very much at all. When the remains are released, you should get the last bit of her cremated. I presume that’s what you will want to do when most of her is already in that state.”

  She just winced, looked at the corner of the house where her grandmother’s bedroom had been, and asked, “So is part of her here?”

  “Quite possibly, yes,” he said. “But in ash form, so not even that much of anything. It’s almost like somebody has swept all this out.” He lifted something that was black and charred and underneath they could see that the concrete, although covered in ash, wasn’t anywhere nearly as thickly covered as the large amount of ash covering the other properties.

  “So somebody just swept up a bunch of stuff and took it away?” she asked bewildered. “Why?”

  The coroner and Rowan looked at each other and then back at her. “To get rid of any evidence that might have been left behind,” he said. “If there’s nothing to find, nobody can make any conclusions either way.”

  “But why?” she cried out softly. “Why kill my grandmother and then leave her body to burn up in the fire, only to return to make sure that all the remains are gone?”

  “Because of the knife,” Rowan said suddenly. “It’s all about that knife.” He turned to look at the coroner. “I don’t suppose you have any photos of it do you?”

  The coroner looked surprised, grabbed his phone, and flicked through several pictures. “You’re thinking the murderer expected to find it in that original mess after the fire?”

  “I think he was hoping any evidence was in the mess, and, at least by taking everything he could find, he did the best he could to get rid of it,” Rowan said. “But, of course, the bottom line is, the coroner has the murder weapon, the knife.”

  “And again, I can’t identify it,” the coroner said. “Without the handle, we have no maker’s mark or any other way to ID it.”

  “No, but somebody wants it,” Rowan said quietly, “and he wants it bad.”

  Chapter 8

  Brandi still couldn’t get her mind wrapped around the idea that her grandmother had been murdered. Brandi was also pretty frustrated that she hadn’t heard more about that until now. But when she heard that the cop who had been assigned to this case—and who had been coming to tell her this—had been in a car accident, she understood a little more, as everybody assumed that she had already been told. In fact, the cop was still in the hospital, and that had to be pretty upsetting for him and his family too.

  After the coroner left, she stood here, staring at what had been her family home, and an unpleasant thought occurred to her. “Do you think there’s any connection between the cop and my grandmother? Although that’s a bit far-fetched too. No, there isn’t.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just trying to make sense of what’s not sensible.”

  Rowan spun on his heels and stared at her. “Connection?” he asked cautiously.

  She gave him a strange look. And then realized that she hadn’t told him. “The cop. I was supposed to have been told,” she said, “about my grandmother having been murdered. But the cop assigned to come and tell me didn’t show up, so I didn’t know until now. I just made a phone call and found out that he’s in the hospital. He was involved in a car accident and more or less is still in a coma,” she said with a shrug. “The cops all thought that I had been told because his notebook had a list with a checkmark beside that entry.”

  “And when something like that happens,” Rowan said, “it’s pretty easy for something to get missed. Do we know what happened to him though?”

  “I have no idea,” she said, “and I highly doubt anybody’ll tell me.”

  “It’s hard to say,” he said, “but maybe I do have some connections.” He pulled out his phone and sent off a text. “I’ll ask Titanium Corp—the company that sent me here,” he said. “Titanium Corp has all kinds of connections. We’ve had any number of strange circumstances where they’ve been required to access those connections.”

  “Interesting,” she murmured. “I was just wondered out loud about the possibility of his injuries being on purpose, connected to my grandmother.”

  “The only reason there would be a connection,” he said, “is if there was a reason to take out the cop. And he was only coming to tell you about the knife, the untraceable knife. So that’s not necessarily of any value to a murderer.”

  She nodded, feeling better. “I guess that’s just a coincidence.”

  “The trouble with that is,” he said, “when you’ve done the type of work I’ve done, I’m not a real big fan of coincidences.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Why not?”

  “Because coincidences tend to be very convenient for somebody. And sure, they exist, but …”

  “Something I don’t want to think about,” she said.

  “Unless the cop had other information or evidence or may have seen something,” he interrupted her.

  She shrugged, pulling her shoulders in slightly. “I really don’t want to think about that,” she said. “It’d be too awful if more than one person had been injured because of this.”

  “And that brings us back to the coins,” he said. He stared at the foundation where the house used to be. “If your grandmother had coins, where would she have kept them?”

  “If,” Brandi said with emphasis, “she had coins, I don’t know. Because I never heard of them. Maybe in the attic. Maybe in the crawl space.” She shrugged. “I really don’t know.”

  “So she didn’t mention anybody in the family who may have collected them?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Lucky coin? Anything that she kept as a memento of her husband? Your parents?”

  She stopped and stared at him, wordless. “I have no idea.”

  “How about a safe deposit box?” he asked, facing Brandi suddenly. “Did she keep her will and legal documents somewhere else?”

  She frowned at that. “I’d have to check with the bank,” she said. “I’m not sure.”

  “That’s the first place to start,” he said, “because, if your grandmother wasn’t a fool in terms of looking after her money and her assets, a coin collection could easily be sitting in a safe deposit box.”

  Brandi frowned at that. “I guess it’s possible. As far as I know, she had no safe in the house.”

  He poi
nted at the remains and said, “No safe was left, put it that way.”

  She went still. “The fire’s pretty all-encompassing, isn’t it?”

  “It is, and it isn’t,” he said. “You can see when something’s left behind, but a lot of it’s been just burned up. The longer the fire has a fuel supply—and maybe an additional source was available too—the hotter it’ll burn, and that takes out a little more than everybody else’s house fire might.”

  “She had these little propane heaters,” she said. “No, not propane.” She frowned, stopped, thought about it, and said, “Oil. Little oil heaters that she used to plug in.”

  “It’s possible,” he said, “that they added to the extra fire around this place.” As he motioned to the other houses, although they looked rough, still a little bit was left of each one.

  “It’s all just too much,” she whispered. She turned so she didn’t have to see her old home. “How do we find out about the cop?”

  “Let’s start with the bank first,” he said. “Did you have access to your grandmother’s account?”

  “Yes. We shared the account,” she said. “Both our names were on it.”

  “Good,” he said. “That means everything left in that account is for you anyway.”

  She shrugged. “I guess. I haven’t really looked at it. It was hers. It wasn’t an account I used.”

  He nodded. “You up for a trip to the bank?”

  “What, right now?” She looked back at the vehicles, then at him. “It’s really not your problem.”

  “And yet,” he said, “I’m here and uniquely qualified to help you.” She frowned at that. He just shook his head. “But I really can’t give you too much in the way of details as to my experience in these matters,” he said. “Just to say that I’m used to heading off on missions and solving all kinds of problems on the way.”

  Her lips quirked at that. “That covers a lot.”

  “It does,” he said. “You have no idea some of the things I’ve had to do. The fact of the matter is, if the cops think that your grandmother has been murdered, and the cop that was coming to deliver the news was in a car accident, those are two events that, if we can connect them, will give us a much better idea how big this coin business is. And, if we can’t connect your grandmother’s death and the cop’s injury, it would allow you to rest and to know that it was maybe a one-off on your grandmother’s case. Still, somebody has been texting you, looking for these coins. He hasn’t stopped, even though your grandmother’s been gone these six weeks. And that means he won’t stop now either.”

  She shoved her hands into her pockets and rocked back on her heels. “You think he’s the shooter, don’t you?”

  He nodded quietly. “Trying to scare you. Using intimidation tactics.”

  His gaze stared deep into her eyes, as if he could see into her soul. Trouble was, her soul was damn innocent. She’d been a model student, a happy family member, had a job that she thoroughly enjoyed, and loved her life. At least she had until she’d lost the parts of her life that made it worth living. She smiled sadly and said, “In that case, I have to make sure to stay safe then.”

  “You definitely do,” he said, “because nobody else can watch over you twenty-four/seven. And you also have to be there for Lacey and her pups,” he said.

  She nodded, a smile breaking through. “I just hope they both live through this.”

  “Don’t even consider the other option,” he said. “She survived beyond the odds already,” he murmured. “She’s still got enough life in her to stay alive at this time. So she can keep fighting now. Her and her puppy too.”

  “We say that,” she said, “but it’s not always so easy.”

  “It never is,” he said. “We need to take the dogs for another walk, so they can go to the bathroom. Then to the bank. Thereafter I should get them back to the motel. But we also need to stop and pick up dog food.”

  She nodded. They quickly took the dogs out from the back seat. Gave them a chance to run around. And the puppies, although not at all interested in the rope and being on one, were quite happy to run around, lift a leg, and sniff. Being much more disciplined, Hershey kept a quiet eye on them, while doing all the things that he needed to do too. Finally Rowan called them back to the vehicle and said to her, “Where’s your bank?”

  “It’s a few blocks from here. A pet store is right beside it.”

  “Good,” he said, “that’s where we’ll go first.” She hesitated. He shook his head. “No. No more putting it off. We have to go to the bank. This is the time to get the answers,” he said. “We can’t do anything without those.”

  She nodded, shrugged, and headed to her vehicle. He followed behind her in his rental with the dogs. She pulled into the mall, parked in front of the bank, hopped out, and walked over to Rowan’s vehicle when he pulled up. She said, “You stay here with the dogs. But tell me what I’m supposed to ask when I go in.”

  “Tell them that your grandmother’s deceased and that you’re looking to find out if she had a safe deposit box and if she had any accounts other than the one you share.”

  “I don’t have a death certificate,” she said, “so why would they give me any information?”

  “You can give them the coroner’s name and his phone number and explain the problem to them.”

  She frowned. “Do you think they will call?”

  “The coroner needs to issue a death certificate, most likely saying, cause of death unknown. But it’s worth a try right now while we’re here at the bank, but the coroner can certainly talk to the bank, so that you can have access to what you need.”

  “Grandma had a lawyer,” she said suddenly.

  “Have you talked to him?”

  “I made a phone call in the first few days, but I haven’t heard from him since.”

  “Well, he should have all these details too,” he said.

  “He didn’t seem very friendly.”

  “Well, it’s past time for being friendly,” he said. “Go talk to the bank. I’ll run in and get the dog food, and then we’ll go see your grandmother’s lawyer.”

  She gave him a smile and said, “You know you don’t have to.”

  “I know,” he said gently. “Go. I’ll meet you back here in ten.” He locked up the vehicle, telling Hershey to guard the pups. As she headed into the bank, he made his way into the pet food store.

  At the bank, she recognized one of the tellers. Elaine looked up, smiled at her and said, “Hey, how you doing?”

  “Well, I’m slowly adjusting,” she said, “but looks like it’ll be forever before we can get the insurance and the property payouts taken care of.”

  Elaine winced. “It’s pretty tough. Everybody knows what happened,” she said, “but trying to get the paperwork settled, that’s a whole different story.”

  “I have an account with my grandmother here,” she said, “so I presume there’s no problem getting access to that account ’cause both of our names are on it, correct?”

  “Absolutely correct,” Elaine said. “As long as both names are on it, the remainder of the account is yours.”

  “And what am I supposed to do,” she said, “about finding out about other accounts my grandmother might have had?”

  “Let me check,” she said. She stopped, looked at her, and asked, “Did you get a death certificate yet?”

  “I didn’t,” she said. She lowered her voice and said, “At the moment they’re thinking she was murdered first.”

  Elaine’s face took on a huge look of shock. And then she leaned forward as well and asked, “Are you serious?”

  “Very, unfortunately,” she said. “I do have the coroner’s name and phone number, so you can contact him as needed. I don’t know what paperwork he can give you to prove that she’s gone, but …” Her voice trailed away, and she could feel the tears in her eyes again.

  Elaine hurriedly reached across, gripped her hand, and said, “Hang on. Let me talk to my manager.” She disappeared
and went into the office around the corner. At that, Brandi pulled out the coroner’s card with his name and phone number and quickly called him.

  When she got him on the end of the phone, he said, “I can write you up a death certificate,” he said. “It’ll take me a little bit though.”

  “I’m at the bank right now,” she said.

  “Right. Not a problem,” he said. “I could attach it in an email for you.”

  When he hung up, she waited until Elaine came back, but she was frowning. “I know you’ll say we can’t do anything without a death certificate, aren’t you?”

  “That is standard procedure, yes,” Elaine said.

  “I just called the coroner, and he’s issuing me one and will send it in an email.” Brandi waited for the email and smiled when it came through. “I only have the digital copy on my phone.”

  “Email it to me,” Elaine said, “and I can go print it off.” And that’s what they did. By the time she came back, they had the death certificate, and the banking could be done that needed to be done. Elaine pulled her into the manager’s office and said, “We might as well have this discussion back here,” she said. “It’s a little more private.”

  Brandi smiled and nodded at her friend. “Thank you.”

  The manager stood, shook her hand, and said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He reached over and said, “We printed off two of these, one for us and one for you.”

  She looked at the death certificate and felt her heart bleed a little more. She whispered, “It’s so hard to see it in black-and-white like this.”

  “I know. That’s much worse, isn’t it?” he said, motioning for Brandi to sit. “I can tell you that your grandmother had two other accounts, and she also had a safe deposit box with us.”

  She stared at him in surprise. “Okay. That’s interesting.”

  He said, “A fair bit of money is here, so I do need to see a will in order to figure out just what’s happening and who’ll have access.”

  “Of course,” she said. “The lawyer should have a copy of her will. I don’t have that either.”