Tequila Mockingbird (Book 7)

by Liliana Hart

  “There are lots of types of love,” Robin said. “But in my experience, none of it lasts very long. But at least I got his pension out of it. ”

  “What did you love about it?” Agatha snapped back.

  “I loved knowing that his pension was all mine.”

  “Wow, that’s a pretty terrible thing to say,” Agatha said, getting to her feet. “And to think I felt sorry for you the other day.”

  “I don’t need your pity,” she said, flipping a cigarette butt at Agatha’s feet.

  “You’re not quite good enough an actress to keep your true self from showing, but I can guarantee that if you had anything to do with Carol Brown’s death you’re going down.”

  “Why don’t you get off my property?”

  “Sure thing,” Agatha said. “Stupid mistake inviting us back over. You’ve got brown eyes and I bet that red dye is covering up naturally brown hair.”

  “You going into cosmetology?” Robin asked, rolling her eyes.

  “Because we got the report back from the crime lab on that letter Carol Brown supposedly sent. And guess what? It didn’t come from Carol. The DNA showed whoever sent the letter was a white female with brown hair and brown eyes. Carol was blonde haired and blue-eyed. That makes you look pretty good to me for sending it.”

  Agatha took a step forward, hoping to incite her a little more.

  “I told you to get off my land, or I’ll make you get off.”

  “I just wanted to get a good look at you before they haul you away in cuffs,” Agatha said with a sneer. “You like to play the victim but all this,” Agatha said, waving her hand around the rundown house and Robin’s rundown body, “is all because of the bad choices you made.”

  “Go to hell,” Robin shouted, and swung out a fist.

  Agatha tried to duck out of the way, but Robin caught her on the chin. The blow surprised her and knocked her back a step. She’d never actually been in a fist fight before, especially not with a crazy woman. She reached out blindly and snatched a handful of hair, and then brought the back of her hand up under Robin’s chin like Hank had taught her. Robin dropped to the ground and sprawled in one of the muddy ruts made by oversized tires.

  “Don’t ever touch me again,” Agatha said, straightening her shirt. She caught Hank’s wide-eyed stare out of the corner of her eye. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The dog had watched the fight calmly and never barked, but eventually made his way over to Robin to lick at her arms.

  Agatha got in the Jeep and slammed the door, and then pressed the accelerator as she wheeled around and sped down the driveway. Her adrenaline was pumping and she yelled, “Yeehaw,” as she turned a corner a little too fast. She’d gotten exactly the reaction she’d wanted. She was a genius.

  “Are you drunk?” Hank asked. “What was all that?”

  She laughed like a loon. She’d never felt so free. Of course, she didn’t condone fighting, but sometimes there were reasons.

  “I’ve got a paper bag in the glove box,” Agatha said. “Grab it for me, would you?”

  “For what?”

  “For these samples of DNA,” Agatha said, lifting a handful of red hair so Hank could see. “I got us the comparison samples we needed.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Hank said. “You baited her into a fight so you could pull her hair out?”

  “Yep,” she said. “Pretty ingenious, right?”

  “That’s one word for it,” Hank said. “Or you could’ve just picked up the cigarette butts like I did.” He added a couple of cigarette butts to the bag with the hair, and Agatha felt herself deflate.

  “My way was much more interesting,” she said.

  “No doubt about that, champ. Wanna stop by The Taco and Waffle for a beer?” he asked.

  “Sure, I’m in the celebrating mood.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sunday

  Hank rolled onto his back in his California king-sized bed. His eyes hurt, and the insistent sound of his phone buzzing wasn’t helping matters. He was way too old to keep staying up as late as he had been. He’d only had one beer. He and Agatha weren’t drinkers, and that was pretty much their limit. But she was thirty-nine and he was past fifty. And this morning, he felt like it.

  He groaned and reached for the phone. There was no reason for anyone to be calling him this early.

  “Hello,” he snarled.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Coil said.

  “I don’t care.”

  “You will,” Coil said. “I’m coming to pick you up.”

  “What’s wrong? Is Agatha okay? Your family?”

  “Everyone is fine,” Coil said. “But we’re here at the party, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to want to show up.”

  “Party?” Hank asked. “I’m partied out.” And Hank hung up.

  It didn’t do any good. He heard the sirens blaring from outside his window. Which he was sure his neighbors appreciated. Everyone in the neighborhood would be up and standing on their lawn before long.

  Hank growled and rolled out of bed, and he went directly to the window and opened it. He held up his hand, indicating for Coil to give him five minutes, and then slammed the window shut again. The sirens turned off.

  Within minutes, he’d jumped in and out of the shower, brushed his teeth, and had thrown on khakis and a polo.

  Coil grinned at him when he opened the truck door.

  “This better be good,” Hank said.

  “You used to be much more delightful in the mornings. I think you’re turning into a grumpy old man.”

  “Hush,” Hank said. “Where’s Aggie?”

  “She’s at the party,” he said. “I saw her this morning while she was on her run. Amazing what happens when you don’t sleep the day away.”

  “You keep talking about a party as if I’m supposed to know what you’re talking about,” Hank said. “But yet, I’m still clueless.”

  But he was starting to get an idea when Coil turned the corner and he saw the work trucks and police cars in front of 1109 Brandywine Court.

  Coil parked the truck, and Hank climbed out, trying to see what was going on. He saw Agatha standing across the street talking with a group of people he didn’t know, but as soon as she saw him she jogged across to him.

  “Can you believe it?” she asked.

  “Believe what?”

  “Coil called Larry Banks yesterday and set a fire under him about trying to take advantage of the Stewarts,” she said.

  “Coil woke me up because the Stewarts are getting a great deal on a sewer?” Hank asked.

  “What are you, eighty?” she asked. “It’s ten-thirty in the morning, not five A.M. Besides, don’t you want to know what Larry Banks found when he started busting up that slab?”

  “Yeah,” Hank said, “Maybe I do want to know that. I’m assuming it’s interesting.”

  “If you call a human jawbone interesting,” Agatha said. “Larry found it sticking out of the soil surface once he’d disrupted the ground, so he called the biology teacher at the high school to have him come take a look. Once it was determined it was human, they called Coil.”

  “Holy cow,” Hank said. “That’s definitely a break in the case. Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Seriously?” she asked. “I called about a thousand times.”

  Hank checked his cell. She was right. “Sorry,” he said, wincing.

  “No problem,” she said, cheekily. “I’m sure it’s tough to be fifty-three and up past midnight.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re cute,” Hank said. “Funny how Robin told us specifically how Jim poured the slab and built the greenhouse all on his own.”

  “I was just thinking that,” Agatha said. “Coil said he’s got men watching both Jim and Robin’s houses.”

  “Now we just have to wait for the results to see if the body belongs to Carol Brown,” Hank said.

  “It’d be a heck of a coincidence if it wasn’t.”

  “Well,”
Hank said. “We did say yesterday that finding a body would make this whole fiasco a lot easier.”

  “I know,” Agatha whispered. “And maybe her family can finally get some answers. We’ll find out who did this.”

  “I’ve got to admit,” Hank said. “After watching you two ladies duke it out, I’m kind of hoping it’s Robin. She’s got a temper, and she’s got some psychological issues. But professionally, I think Jim had the means, motive and opportunity.”

  “I’m starting to agree with you now that a body has been found under his greenhouse. I don’t like Robin one bit, and maybe she helped him with the murder, but there’s no way she could’ve pulled it off by herself without Jim knowing about it.”

  “I wouldn’t get too greedy on solving this one,” Coil said, coming up behind them. “I heard the FBI wants to come in and take over.”

  “Why?” Agatha exclaimed.

  “Because it’s a cold case, and someone else has already worked it for them,” Coil said grimly.

  “Is that how you operated?” she asked Hank.

  “No,” he said flatly.

  “They’re about to wrap things up here,” Coil said. “I’ve got men on Jim and Robin, but I’m wondering if I should put surveillance on Edna Merth.”

  “Why in the world would you do that?” Agatha asked.

  “You heard what she said yesterday,” Coil said. “She all but almost confessed to you.”

  “He’s got a point,” Hank said.

  “She’s an old lady with Alzheimer’s,” Agatha said.

  “She wasn’t a decade ago,” Coil told her. “I’m about to head out with the Rangers’ CSI unit. Do you need a ride back home?” Coil asked Hank.

  Hank shook his head. “I’ll walk back with Aggie.”

  “I’ll let you know when the lab turns something up,” Coil offered.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tuesday

  The drive to Austin was a bit out of the way, but Coil, Hank, and Agatha had waited two days for word on the remains dug up at 1109 Brandywine Court. Will Ellis, their good friend and contact at the Texas Rangers, waited at the building’s main entrance to greet them. Agatha could tell Coil was anxious once they hit Austin city limits, but seeing an old friend seemed to settle him down.

  Coming back to Austin always affected Coil. He’d worked deep undercover while in a major task force based in the capital city. His assignment had almost cost him his life thanks to an ambush. But it was corruption within his own agency that presented the most danger to him. She’d have preferred to have been briefed in Rusty Gun, but the lab techs had told them if they wanted the information then they’d have to come to them. That’s what happened when you were the small fish in the pond.

  “Hey, guys,” Will said. “Great to see all of you. Just follow me. Everyone’s waiting.”

  Agatha hugged Will and said, “Thanks for being here for us.”

  “Well, you guys keep things interesting,” he said, giving her a wink. “I don’t think Hank understands the meaning of the word retired.”

  Will ushered them into an executive conference room where a group of people were waiting. Will introduced the forensic team, and Agatha and Hank took seats around the conference table. Coil opted to stand near the door.

  “I’m Dr. Collins,” an older man with white hair and a handlebar mustache said. “Y’all have been busy down in Bell County.”

  The lights dimmed and Dr. Collins took out his red laser pointer as pictures of the skeletal remains flashed on screen.

  “We’ve come to the conclusion with ninety-nine point nine percent certainty that the remains belong to Carol Brown. Our first point of identification were the dental records.” He put x-rays up on the screen, both post-mortem and pre-mortem. “You can see the identifying markers. The rest of the remains bore traces of postmortem trauma because of the heavy machinery being used at the time, but there are other identifiable markers as well.

  “Dr. Mary Sue Manstein is our forensic (Anthropologist?), and Dr. Alfred Short is a forensic pathologist. They both assisted in the investigation for identification and cause of death. Dr. Manstein was able to identify markers, such as a broken ulna the victim suffered as a child, as well as approximate height and weight based on the bones.

  “Dr. Short found cause of death to be a severe linear fracture in her skull. Based on the bleeding in the bone, Dr. Short was able to determine the fracture was caused before death, and likely was the cause of death since there was enough blood to stain the bones after impact.”

  “It would take someone with a lot of strength to deliver a blow like that,” Agatha whispered to Hank.

  “In examining the deceased’s clothing,” Dr. Collins said, “I found the remains showed a hole consistent with a gunshot wound. There was also a significant amount of blood on the blouse. A positive, which is a match for Carol Brown. When I tested the blouse, traces of lead, consistent with gunshot residue, were found in the fabric.”

  Dr. Collins moved his laser pointer to a picture of the shirt in question. “But you can see by the location of the bullet entry that this might not have necessarily been a fatal shot. Since none of her organs were available and the bullet didn’t nick any of her bones, it’s still my opinion that the skull fracture is what killed her.”

  “The gunshot would explain the red stain on the carpet,” Agatha said. “But why would you shoot her and then crack her skull, or vice versa?”

  “Good question,” Hank said.

  “I’ll hand things over to Dr. Manstein for now,” Dr. Collins said.

  Dr. Manstein stood up and took the laser pointer, and Agatha scooted down in her chair some. She wondered if the woman recognized her. Back when Agatha had been a forensic anthropology student, before Ray Salt had changed the course of her life and she’d had to leave school, Dr. Manstein had been her professor and mentor. But that had been a lot of years ago, and she’d taught a lot of students since then.

  “The victim suffered several types of trauma as evident from her remains,” Dr. Manstein said. “First, was perimortem trauma, or trauma inflicted at or near the time of Carol’s death. Second, was postmortem trauma, or trauma inflicted after her death. I want to note that the postmortem trauma was possibly caused by the recovery process or shifting of the ground after the body was buried.”

  “She really took a beating,” Agatha said, reading over the different areas of trauma that had occurred to Carol’s body.

  Dr. Manstein continued. “Perimortem trauma evident in the remains included a sharp, slice across the back of the skull with such force that both the occipital bone and the inside table were broken, resulting in a hinge fracture. Also, there is trauma to an upper leg bone, the left scapula, a broken index finger, and trauma to the first lumbar and twelfth thoracic vertebrates, and several broken ribs.”

  “A case of rage,” Hank said, shaking his head.

  “Anyone have any questions?” Dr. Collins asked.

  Coil took a step forward. “We submitted known DNA samples from Robin Earls to compare to the sample located on an envelope. Has anyone been able to look at that?”

  “Yes, unfortunately, the samples you sent us weren’t a match for the envelope DNA,” Dr. Collins said.

  Agatha raised her hand and waited until Dr. Collins acknowledged her. “Dr. Collins, can you compare the DNA from this sample to the envelope.” Agatha dug in her bag and pulled out the plastic bag that held a single beer bottle Edna Merth had drunk from a few days before.

  “You always carry a beer bottle in your purse?” Dr. Collins asked.

  “Not normally,” she said, lips twitching. “But I had a feeling that I would need this particular sample. I didn’t want to see the truth because I might not like the outcome. But I can’t keep ignoring it.”

  “Agatha Harley,” Dr. Manstein said, smiling. “I thought that was you, but my eyes aren’t as good as they once were. After all the years I’ve spent teaching, you’re one of my students I’ve always thought of. Y
ou had such potential. But I understand why you had to leave. And it seems things worked out for you. I’ve read your books.”

  Agatha felt the heat rush to her cheeks, but she smiled in return. “That means more than you will ever know. Thank you.”

  “Well then,” Dr. Collins said. “Let’s take a look at that beer bottle. Someone will contact you with the results as soon as they’re available.”

  “Thank you all for taking the time to meet with us,” Coil said, shaking hands. “You guys have been a big help to us over the last year or so.”

  Will Ellis laughed. “That’s an understatement. Trouble has a tendency to follow y’all around. I might have to move to Rusty Gun. It seems there’s a hotbed of excitement.”

  “I wish someone had told me,” Hank said, giving Coil a pointed look. “It’s definitely not the retirement town I thought it was when I moved there.”

  “To be fair,” Coil said, “The excitement didn’t start happening until you got to town. I think you’re the catalyst.”

  “That sounds like as good of an excuse as any for Hank to buy us lunch,” Agatha said. “There’s a taco truck across the street.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Bell County Sheriff’s Office bustled with activity. Coil had called in deputies Karl Johnson, Joe Springer, Jimmie James and Lieutenant Maria Rodriguez to help with the case, and it was a needed change of pace from writing parking tickets or getting stray cows off the road.

  It didn’t take long to secure a search warrant for Jim Brown’s home and the hardware store since his wife was dead instead of living the high life with her boyfriend. Coil sent Karl and Springer to Jim’s current house, hoping to find a weapon and any souvenirs he might have kept, and he sent James and Rodriguez to the Brandywine house since they were the more experienced of his cops. They were specifically looking for the blood stain when they pulled up the carpet.

  Coil, Hank, and Agatha had decided to take the hardware store and talk to Jim face to face. Despite finding Carol and knowing the cause of death, there was only circumstantial evidence and speculation about Jim’s part in the murder. They needed something that could pin him to the wall.