Rigged

by D P Lyle

  “Not happy. And I think Sean did a little roaming. Fact is, I’m sure he did. She always forgave him, but it added up.”

  “As things like that do,” Pancake said.

  “Don’t they though.” Danny shrugged, then to Ray said, “You find anything else in your investigation?”

  “Not really. Of course, we were just beginning our research when this happened.”

  We were seated at a table near the front window. Danny’s gaze moved that way, toward the street. “Any idea who could’ve done this?”

  “None,” Ray said.

  “Isn’t it usually the spouse?” Nicole asked.

  Danny looked at her. “Usually. But I understand he was out on a rig at the time.”

  “He was,” I said.

  “I wish I could stay here and figure it out. But I don’t think my CO would go for it.” He looked at Ray. “What about you?”

  “We were asked to look into the financials of the divorce. Make sure everything was on the up and up.”

  “So, your work is done?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “I wish I could hire you,” Danny said. “To find out who did this. But Uncle Sam doesn’t pay me that kind of money.”

  Ray mulled that for a beat. “You got a dollar on you?”

  “Sure.”

  Ray made a gimme sign with his fingers.

  Danny pulled some folded bills from his pocket, peeled off a single, and handed it to Ray.

  “Now we work for you,” Ray said.

  “For a dollar?”

  “Let’s call it a brothers-in-arms discount.”

  “Really?” Danny asked.

  “Really.”

  His jaw squared. “I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

  “We’ll find the dude,” Pancake said. “And it won’t go well for him.”

  “I don’t think the local chief will be happy,” I said. “Based on our last chat with her anyway.”

  “Billie Warren?” Danny said.

  I nodded. “She didn’t seem thrilled with us being here in the first place. And if we start snooping into this, she’ll be less so.”

  Did I actually say we? Had I been roped into Ray’s world again? Nicole thought so. She gave me a discreet smile and a raised eyebrow. Truth time. I was all in. This was Emily. This was Pancake’s pain. Walking away wasn’t an option. My head-butting match with Ray would have to take the back seat on this one.

  “Don’t worry about Billie,” Danny said. “I’ll have a sit-down with her before I head back to Pensacola.”

  “You know her?” I asked.

  “For years. In fact, during high school, my summer job was at the police department. Mostly running errands and cleaning up. Sometimes I’d go out on patrol with her. She wasn’t the chief back then.” He glanced toward the window again. “In fact, I considered law enforcement, but the Corps won out.”

  “A word would help,” Ray said. “But since you’re now the client, we’ll be able to sniff around anyway.”

  “One of the things I always admired about you, Ray, even as a kid, is that you never hesitated to jump in and straighten things out.” He nodded toward Pancake and me. “Even with these two.”

  “A full-time job,” Ray said. “If you can get Chief Warren to at least tolerate us, that’ll make things smoother.”

  As if on cue, Chief Warren and Officer Moody walked by the window. They saw us and detoured through the front door.

  “Danny,” Warren said. “I’m sorry we didn’t make the funeral.”

  “We’ve been a bit busy,” Moody added.

  “I suspect that’s true,” Danny said.

  I introduced Ray to Warren and Moody.

  “Anything new on the case?” Ray asked.

  Warren hesitated.

  “I’ve hired them to help find out who did this,” Danny said.

  Warren’s jaw tightened. “I see.”

  “Look, Billie,” Danny said. “I don’t want to step on your toes or anything like that, but I can’t stay here and do it myself.”

  “And you don’t think we’re capable?” Warren asked.

  “You know that’s not the case. It’s just that the more eyes looking into this the better.”

  Warren didn’t seem convinced.

  “We’re here to help,” Ray said. “Not get in the way.”

  Warren shrugged. “But will it work out that way?”

  “I hope so.” Ray twisted in his chair to face her more directly. “We can do things you can’t. Don’t have to follow all the rules, so to speak.” Ray smiled. “And we’re pretty good at what we do.”

  “Which is?”

  “Gathering intel. Looking in dark corners and under rugs. We—” he waved a hand toward Pancake—“have certain skills in that arena. And friends if need be.”

  Warren raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  “Like Danny, I was a Marine. Unlike him, my career isn’t part of the public record. The skills I learned during that part of my life, and the friends I acquired, often come in handy in situations such as this.”

  Warren listened, said nothing.

  Ray continued. “Pancake has crazy computer skills and can rummage in places most folks don’t even know exist.”

  Warren nodded toward Nicole and me. “And you two?”

  Before I could answer, Ray jumped in. “Nicole’s smart and good with people. Jake’s pretty and has a nice smile.”

  My father speaking.

  Warren smiled. “So all that boyish charm draws people to him?”

  “Exactly.” Ray glanced at me. “And he does have his moments.”

  Okay, that was good, but being the topic of this table conversation was getting uncomfortable.

  “He has lots of good moments,” Nicole said. She mussed my hair. “Most we can’t talk about.”

  Warren actually laughed.

  “Tell us more,” Pancake said.

  Nicole shook her head, her blond ponytail wagging behind her. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  Warren’s expression became serious again. “I did a little of my own research. Longly Investigations is well known down in Gulf Shores, it seems. And expensive.” She looked at Danny. “I assume you can afford these guys.”

  “We have an arrangement.” Danny looked at Ray. “A very generous and greatly appreciated one.” Then to Warren, “All I’m asking is that you work together. Find out who did this to my sister. Isn’t that the important thing here?”

  Warren nodded. “It is.” She sighed, gave a quick nod. “I hope I don’t regret this, but okay.” Back to Ray. “But the rules are mine. Clear?”

  “Crystal,” Ray said.

  CHAPTER 14

  DANNY’S RELUCTANCE TO leave was evident. I saw it in his bowed head, shuffling feet, the sagging of his military-erect posture. We were a block from Stella’s, at the curb where he had parked his rental.

  Danny looked up the street, unfocused. His face revealed his pain, through an almost lost little boy expression. Here he was, heading to the other side of the planet, while his sister lay in the ground. Not that he had a choice. Staying wasn’t an option.

  He finally took a deep breath. “I feel like I’m abandoning her.”

  “You’re not,” Ray said. “You’ve done the best thing you could do. You hired us.”

  “Sort of,” Danny said.

  “No. You did. It’s not always about the money.”

  Danny nodded. “I meant what I said. It’s greatly appreciated.”

  “We’d do it for free,” Ray said. “Look, you get back on station. Do your job. We’ll take care of everything.”

  Pancake laid a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “You know what Emily meant to me. To Jake and Ray, too. I promise we’ll find who did this.”

  Danny looked up. His eyes glistened. “I have this urge to say ‘Fuck it,’ and go AWOL.”

  “You won’t,” Ray said. “You’re a Marine. You’ll slap on the backpack and move forward. Leave th
is to us.”

  Danny gave a half nod, then each of us a hug, climbed in his car, and drove away.

  Nicole wiped a tear from her eye. “I feel sorry for him. And I’m sure he does feel like he’s running away. Leaving behind unfinished business.”

  “Finishing this business is on us,” Ray said.

  “What’s the next move?” Nicole asked.

  “That’s what we need to work out. Pancake and I. We’ll head back to Gulf Shores and put a game plan together.”

  “And us?” I asked.

  “This is a small town. Folks know each other fairly well. We need to tread lightly. At least initially. The first order of business is to make sure Chief Warren is truly onboard. Drop by and see her. See what she’ll give up. How comfortable she is with us being here. Whether she was being truthful about collaboration or was simply blowing smoke up our asses.”

  “Jake can charm her,” Nicole said.

  “If he doesn’t piss her off first,” Ray said.

  “I’ll keep his leash short.”

  Was I going to get a pat on the head and a treat for this? I made a mental note to ask Nicole about the treat later.

  “Then we’ll need to get a read on Sean Patterson,” Ray said. He fell silent as an older couple walked by. They nodded, said “Hello,” and moved on. “Stop by and see him. Low key. Don’t press him on any facts. More to get a feel for where his head’s at. Is he the heart-broken ex he seemed to be at the funeral, or is he a good actor?”

  “I can handle that,” Nicole said.

  Ray smiled. “Of that I’m sure.”

  And that was the initial plan.

  Ray and Pancake left. Nicole and I walked the short distance to the Police Department. We found Warren in her office. She directed us to a pair of wooden ladder-back chairs and sat behind her desk.

  “I still have reservations about this,” Warren said.

  “I’m sure you do,” I said. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”

  She gave a half smile. “So, reassure me.”

  “What Ray said was true,” I said. “He and Pancake are very good at finding what’s hidden.”

  “He’s your father, yet you call him Ray. Interesting.”

  “Long story.”

  “I have the time.”

  “Ray and I don’t always see eye to eye. Not sure we ever have.”

  “Yet you work for him?”

  “Not really.” I nodded toward Nicole. “I think she does.”

  “You think?”

  “I do,” Nicole said. “And Jake does, too. He just won’t admit it.”

  “You’re not inspiring a lot of confidence here,” Warren said.

  “Don’t worry,” Nicole said. “We’re focused on helping. That’s it.”

  “And share with me everything you uncover?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Warren looked at me. “You onboard with that?”

  “I am.” I scooted forward to the edge of the chair. “This isn’t just another case. It’s personal. We, Pancake and I, went to school with Emily. Down in Gulf Shores. Pancake and Emily were sixth-grade sweethearts.”

  Warren absorbed that. “First love kind of stuff?”

  I nodded. “Until her family moved here the summer after sixth grade. Neither of us had seen her since.”

  Warren stared at her desktop for a beat, then looked back up. “Okay. Both Emily and Jason were murdered out on Carl Fletcher’s place. About a mile on down the road from Emily’s house. He found the bodies.”

  “You thinking they were dumped there?” I asked.

  “The blood spatter says otherwise. They were shot where they were found.”

  “Any suspects?” Nicole asked.

  Warren shook her head. “Truth is, we’ve got nothing. No stray fingerprint at her home. No usable tire impressions at the scene. No rain lately and the road’s fairly compacted up there.”

  “Anyone with a grudge, or any motive?” I asked.

  “Not that we know.” She picked up a pen from her desk, examined it. “The husband’s always the first look. Particularly with a divorce in the works. But he has a pretty solid alibi.”

  “Out in the Gulf?” I asked.

  “Yep. His foreman verified that. Plus, they had to put him on a supply copter to get him back onshore after I called.”

  “What about that other guy Emily was seeing?” Nicole asked. “Martin? Isn’t that right?”

  “Charlie Martin. I talked with him. He has a pretty good alibi, too. He was over at his cousin’s place. Helping prep his fields for planting. Over near Magnolia Springs. Apparently, he was there until midnight. Maybe a bit later.”

  “The time of death?” I asked.

  “The coroner says between 10:00 p.m. and 2:00 a.m. Thereabouts.”

  “That would give him time to drive back,” I said. “It isn’t that far.”

  “I suppose. Still doubt he’s the guy. Doesn’t seem the angry, jealous type.”

  “You never know about people though.”

  Warren clicked the pen a couple of times. “That’s true.”

  “Can we see the scene?” I asked.

  “Don’t see why not.”

  Ten minutes later, we rolled past Emily’s house, Nicole riding shotgun in Warren’s SUV, me in the back. I noticed an older, street-worn, metallic-gray Chevy sedan in the drive. Sean’s ride? If so, had he moved back in? Seemed odd if that was the case. I knew he had an apartment back toward town. I started to ask Warren, but felt she might stop by to see him. I wanted to have a chat with him but not with Warren present. Less confrontational. More casual.

  Warren rolled on down the blacktop road. I saw a sign that read “Fletcher’s Farm.”

  “This is Carl’s place,” Warren said. “I’ll let him know we’re on his property.”

  She turned onto a gravel drive that led to a white clapboard farmhouse. A man in jeans and a blue work shirt came through a screen door and on to the porch. Warren lowered the window. A blast of hot air invaded the air-conditioned interior.

  “Carl?” Warren said. “You doing okay?”

  “More or less.”

  “Got a couple of investigators. Want to see the scene. That okay?”

  He stood at the top of the steps, looking down. “Of course.”

  “Want to go over with us?”

  He shook his head. “Seen more than enough the other day.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Warren said. “Just wanted to let you know we’re on your property.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  The window slid up; the vehicle moved forward. Around a bend in the hard-packed dirt road that circled the back of a plowed field, and then another turn along the far side. She came to a stop and we stepped out. Warren led us into a grassy area about halfway between the dirt road and a stand of pines.

  “The bodies were found right here.” The grass was still bent and flattened and matted with dark stains. “Lying side by side. Facedown.”

  I walked around the area. Looked back across the field toward the house. Maybe two hundred yards away. “You’re sure they were shot here?”

  She nodded. “Blood and brain tissue all over the place.”

  “Mr. Fletcher didn’t hear anything?” Nicole asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Were they bound?” I asked. “Anything like that?”

  “Nope. And no rope marks or tape residue that would suggest that.” She looked at me. “They were executed. On their knees. Back of the head. Close range based on the charring of the hair around the entry wounds.”

  I stared at her. This wasn’t where my mind was going. Not close. Not sure what I had expected, but this wasn’t it. A domestic situation, sure. A robbery, possible. A kidnapping, maybe. But a full-on execution?

  “Who would do that?” I asked.

  “That’s the million-dollar question.”

  “Sure changes things,” Nicole said.

  Warren nodded. She hesitated as if considering somet
hing. Like she had more to say but wasn’t sure how to say it. Or maybe say it at all.

  “There’s something else?” I asked.

  She glanced at her feet, then across the field toward Carl Fletcher’s home. She looked back at me. “Can I trust you guys?”

  “Of course.”

  “This isn’t for public consumption.”

  “We understand,” Nicole said.

  “There is one more thing. The ME said that when they removed Jason Collins’ clothing, they found two small bags of meth.”

  “Really?” Nicole said.

  “Was he a known user?” I asked.

  Warren gave a quick headshake. “Not that we know. And the people we’ve talked to said he wasn’t and he never had.”

  “Could be a closet user.”

  “Maybe. The other odd thing is that they found no prints on the bags. They were plastic and should hold prints okay, but these were clean.”

  “If he had them in his pocket, couldn’t the prints have been wiped away?” Nicole asked. “While he walked or moved?”

  “Sure. He was found facedown. Shot in the back of the head. The two bags were in his back pocket. Seems an odd place to carry them.” She shrugged. “To me, anyway.”

  “You think they might’ve been planted?” I asked.

  “It does beg the question.”

  CHAPTER 15

  THE IDEA THAT Emily and Jason had been hauled out to a rural area and executed did indeed change things. The killing field was not truly rural but isolated enough that no one, not Carl Fletcher for sure, saw or heard anything.

  Why do it there? Why do it that way? Efficient if nothing else. Two shots done. But, why not right there at Emily’s home? Transporting two bodies would be much easier, and much less risky, than ferrying an alive and well couple down a public road. So many things could go wrong. A fight, a flat tire, an accident, a minor traffic violation involving the police, a random citizen witnessing what was going down. Seemed dicey. According to Warren, the two were shot where they were found, but were they incapacitated in some way? That would make the transfer easier for sure. Warren had said they weren’t restrained. Maybe drugs? I suspected the coroner would be able to determine that.

  Another question: Why do it on Carl Fletcher’s property? A couple of hundred yards from his home? Why not deep in one of the wooded areas? More isolated. Less likely anyone would see. Or hear.