“I asked around. Wanted to know something about my new partner, though I haven’t heard Abs mention it.” Royden sucked in a breath and looked at each McAllister in turn.
“Abs? You call your girlfriend Abs?” Billy scrutinized his partner again. When his sister was younger, her friends called her Abs, but he hadn’t heard the nickname in years.
“Well, I could call her boobs, or nice ass, but she has a wonderful set of abdominals. It seemed less like objectification.”
“Coming from the guy with a PhD.” Matt shook his head.
“Good. You’d best not be referring to my sister.” Billy sucked in a long breath then let it whistle past his front teeth.
Matt stepped forward to stand between the two detectives. “Enough. We have work to do.”
“Hey.” Royden held his hands up in surrender. “I’ve talked to your little sis a few times during the course of investigations, and of course when she comes to the basic mechanic’s class I’m in, and then when she asks for special instruction during said class.”
“Fuck you. It’s one thing to be stuck with a smartass partner, but entirely different when said partner baits me about my sister. She said the class was to learn how to change a tire.” Billy shoved Matt’s hand away, eliciting a growl from the shepherd sitting at his feet.
“We’ll sort this out later, bro. There’s a crime scene to work, unless you need a few more days off...” Matt’s words settled his brother, but the pointed glare directed at Royden declared the matter unfinished.
Knowing Matt’s threat of continued leave would take one call to reshape reality, Billy pivoted on his heel. Due to the feds involvement, he had avoided the department shrink yet still ended up with a smartass therapist. How the fuck did that happen?
“C’mon then. Let Damien get a sniff of the second vehicle and passenger seat of the Honda. Who knows how many people have been there, but maybe we’ll get lucky.” Formless shadows twisted into nebulous reminders of the darkness inside him lacking definition or control. Billy’s mood remained equally ominous as he jumped the watery ditch and snarled as he waited for his brother to take point.
“I’ll let Doug and the medical examiner know what we’re doing then catch up.” Royden gestured to one of the techs exiting the blue van.
Billy scanned the area. “There wasn’t a whole lot of wind after last night’s rain. The victim’s clothes are still damp.”
“I’m guessing the killer has a few hours lead.” Filtered sunlight dappled emerging buds and briars as Damien’s excited snuffling picked up a trail on the far side of the ditch. Billy followed his brother into the wooded shadows. The dog’s angled and side-to-side forward movement pulled them deeper into snarled pathways and matted, thorny entanglements.
Unlike Royden, who yanked a pair of leather gloves from his jacket pocket, Billy didn’t come prepared with protection other than latex. Retrieving his handkerchief, he used it to push aside the worst of the thorns to examine the ground for other footprints. If his own blood contaminated the scene, he’d never hear the end of it. The fact that his partner came prepared added another layer of personality to examine.
Royden’s snark picked up where he’d left off. “Nose jokes about someone who appears to have a normal one. So—maybe they have to do with a fictional character who has a bloodhound nose?” Royden stepped lively to avoid the backlash from the pine bough Billy released.
“You’re asking for it, Royden.” The thought of dumping his partner’s body in a ravine held merit.
“Along those lines, what do you think a sentient nose would think about? Maybe it would consider things the mouth would like to eat? Or maybe it wants a break from all the foul odors at a gruesome crime scene.”
“Jesus. I’ve been paired with a fiction writer. Hey, Matt, can you get Damien to work a little faster?”
“Sorry, man. He goes at his own pace.”
“Maybe the nose thinks about where it might get put after dinner.” Royden waggled his eyebrows.
“And of course, as a juvenile mind, your thoughts go straight to sex,” Billy supplied.
“Actually, I was thinking about getting sucked into a good book. And coming from someone who reportedly loves to read, I’m surprised you didn’t think the same thing. After all, shouldn’t partners be in sync?”
Billy glared at Royden. “I’m not on my period.” Turning to his brother, “Please Matt, if you won’t take him off my hands, let me shoot him. Or else shoot me.”
“No, Damien doesn’t like company in the vehicle. It makes him gassy. And please don’t make more work for us.”
“That would be very offensive to someone with a sensitive sniffer.” Royden dropped back several feet and slowed his pace.
Damien’s excited whine and excess energy stopped abruptly as he froze and sniffed at something half buried under leafy debris.
“He’s got something. Give me a bag, Billy.” Matt patted the shepherd and knelt to examine the find. “Looks like a knife, a gut hook blade covered with dried blood.”
Royden stepped forward and shoved the briars from his path to crouch on the other side of the dog. “Here, Matt. I got it. Billy’s got a bloody hand from grabbing briars. Don’t want to contaminate…” The rest of Royden’s words died after glancing at his partner. Without further comment, he maneuvered the item into the bag.
“So, the killer came this way, probably searching for the witness. Between the weather and terrain, I see no clear footprints or tracks.” Matt urged his dog forward, who picked up the trail. “Good, boy. Find it.”
Billy contemplated the likelihood of locating two more dead bodies. Had witnesses dashed through the dark praying for sanctuary?
Emerging spring blooms with vibrant colors and nearby songsters energized the atmosphere with the animation of life while memories of the crack of a baseball bat and squinting into the sun to snag a high fly crumbled under the present scenario of their search. The disparity of his current viewpoint compared to years gone by struck a discordant note in his chest yet aligned with reality.
“I can’t imagine the killer just dropping his weapon. Maybe he lost it during his trek back after dealing with the last victim,” Royden suggested.
Damien stopped where faint scuffmarks left shallow impressions in the soil. “Looks like there was a struggle here and someone tried to cover it up. Take a wide berth, guys.” Matt pointed to the broken limbs and mashed leaves.
“But no body. Maybe one of the witnesses waited to ambush the killer. Either the attempt was unsuccessful, and the victim got away, or the killer was successful and wanted a live body.”
Damien pulled his handler forward. “He’s got a scent for something—or someone. Let’s keep going.”
Matt followed his K9 up a graded incline which crested to a brief plateau. At the top, trees exposed by the sudden drop-off leading to the ravine sustained wind damage in broken limbs and half-uprooted trunks. Large branches in varying states of decay flattened emerging scrub brush down the sharp incline. The stream at the bottom carried detritus downhill.
Damien strained against his leash until Matt ordered a sit-stay.
“And there’s victim number two.” Billy nudged Matt aside to navigate the gradient. “Royden, stay to the side of these marks.” Two small trenches warped the uneven ground leading to the bottom. “No usable prints, but we can get an idea of the tread pattern in a couple places.”
Royden slip-skidded down the hill in starts and stops of mumbled curses. Mud crusted the bottom of his suit pants. “Damn.”
“My partner’s definitely not a country boy. Those polyester threads are woven in your soul.” A large sedimentary rock provided a narrow landing before dropping sharply into the water. Billy stuffed his handkerchief in his back pocket and plucked off the gloves that had held pressure to several scratches.
Cool water burbled around the legs of a woman’s body, yet her soft flannel shirt and light jacket had wicked the water to envelop her entire frame in a we
t blanket. She lay on her right side with shoulder-length brown hair swirling in the light breeze. Water swooshed over her lower legs and thighs while a small eddy formed around the tennis shoe resting on a mini sand bar.
A steady beat throbbed under Billy’s touch when he checked for a pulse. He slipped into the muddy shallows; the wet sediment soaking his jeans would’ve induced a reaction three months prior. He no longer cared what others thought and wasn’t driven by the need to prove himself.
“At least she’s alive, if hypothermic.” Billy scanned the area.
“We’ll have to carry her out of the ravine to save time. I’ll call EMS from the top of the slope—got a weak signal there.” Royden crouched by the woman’s head.
“She can’t have been here too long since she’s still shivering.” A good sign. Pale skin was cold under Billy’s touch, reminding him of a corpse. “Breathing’s a bit shallow.” He surveyed the path she would’ve taken to arrive at the bottom. “She didn’t come down here on her own steam. Look at the drag marks that foul any footprints we might’ve gotten. But why in the hell would someone drag her here?”
Growing up with four brothers had taught him how to check for major injuries. With a gentle touch, Billy felt the victim’s head for lumps and cuts then progressed to examine her clothes for bloodstains. “Maybe she was drugged or knocked unconscious.” With her head and neck considered as one unit, he rolled her onto her back.
No specific characteristic proclaimed her beautiful, more of a subtle blending of pleasant features. Though closed, her eyes turned up at the corners for a hint of exotic, while full parted lips drew the eye to the indent below her nose. Rounded eyebrows lacked the polish of perfect shape through artificial means yet remained soft and feminine. Understated beauty wouldn’t require artificial enhancements.
“Ahhhh.” The drawn-out moan detailed pain, confusion, and fear.
“How bad?” Matt called from the crest of the chasm.
“She’s sluggish. Hypothermic. I can’t find any obvious injuries.”
“Oh, shit.” Royden froze in drawing the woman’s hair away from her face. “This is a goat fuck of epic proportions.”
“What? Why?” Two weeks’ of down time suddenly felt like decades.
“That’s the new medical examiner, just transferred to Portland. Her name’s Remie. She was in an accident last week that almost killed the other driver. Wasn’t her fault.” Royden tapped his thigh, a gesture of concentration. “I didn’t know her last name, so I didn’t put two and two together when I read the registration.”
“Aw, fuck. What’s she doing here, at a crime scene… and a victim?”
“This smacks of—” Royden’s voice faltered, but the meaning was clear.
“Yeah, it does. Something stinks.” Brushing the mud off his jeans yielded a little distraction.
“You okay? I can carry her.” Royden held his hand out but pulled back with Billy’s glare.
“No, I’ve got her.” Very gently, he smoothed the wrinkle lines from the woman’s brow before lifting one eyelid then the other. “Pupils look normal and react to light.”
When he lifted her up, she whimpered and struggled in uncoordinated confusion, caught up in her continued nightmare. “Remie, you’re safe now. I’ve got you. I’m going to carry you to the road and we’ll get you to the hospital.”
Semi-consciousness denied her the clarity to respond to anything but the calm authority masked in a soothing murmur. He waited until she settled and snuggled against his heat like a starved waif.
Thirty yards of rough incline included fallen logs, broken limbs, and wet leaves with no natural footholds. It turned out he didn’t have to ask his partner for help, the hand on his back appearing when needed.
Each step tested slid on wet organic rubble. Several times, he went to his knees, Royden’s hand at his back keeping them from tumbling back to the water’s edge. Each jolt elicited a groan from the semiconscious bundle in his care.
At the top, Matt gripped his upper arm to pull him over the jutting ridge. “Oh hell.” Recognition lit his gaze before he closed his eyes. “Let’s get her into an ambulance. It should be there by the time we clear the woods.” His tone and expression carried the wariness endured by those feeling responsible for the world’s troubles.
“The SUV belongs to her, which means we have another witness floating around,” Royden reflected.
The cool of night had yielded to the sun’s warming rays while leaving doubt and uncertainty in its wake. No good circumstances came to mind as to why a medical examiner held clandestine meetings with a young woman. The fact she was a new hire would allow her to investigate suspicious activity with greater anonymity.
“It doesn’t mean what you’re thinking, Billy. We eliminated that conspiracy and all its tendrils. There’s got to be a sane explanation,” Matt murmured.
“Sure. She’s got medical training, and her face is unknown since she’s from Baltimore. A great advantage in no one recognizing her while she conducts her own inquiries. Think she’s associated with the feds in some way?”
“Actually, she’s originally from Portland, but hasn’t lived here since high school. We won’t know the rest until she’s conscious,” Royden corrected. “Odd that we haven’t found her cell phone. You guys wanna fill me in on the fed angle?”
“No.” Both McAllisters declared in unison.
“Maybe the killer wanted the phone for the contacts?” Billy suggested.
Matt’s attention focused on the path ahead. “Billy, you stay with her at the hospital until we know more. Royden, you can start working from the other vic’s angle, see if you can figure out why they were meeting in the middle of nowhere.”
Billy huffed with the effort of twisting sideways to avoid snagging the woman’s hair in tangles of thorns. “I’d like to know what was taken from the Honda’s dash along with what was in the victim’s hand. Absence of bloodstain left an outline of something. If we find drugs maybe they were planted to throw us off the scent of what the killer retrieved.” Increasing patches of sunlight dappled his enigma’s face the closer they came to the road.
“On top of that, if the ME is in cahoots with the feds, she won’t throw us a bone if she thinks anyone from our department is dirty.” Royden stepped up from behind to hold a pine bough aside then waited as Billy passed. “I’d like to know if I should be watching my back with concern to fellow officers.”
Billy paused to contemplate his partner. “You should always watch your back, regardless. If another officer is compromised without his knowledge, the results can be just as deadly.” An experience with which I’m intimately familiar.
“Let me guess, you were the one compromised and your brothers closed ranks. I’ve heard that about you guys.”
A small nod was the only concession Billy allowed. So, the new kid on the block can think. Maybe he wouldn’t be better off left alongside the road, after all.
“Or—perhaps Remie was going to blow the whistle on her alien abductors and lost her tin-foil hat in the woods, hence came under their control during her attempted escape.”
There’s an orphanage outside Portland that might take him… “Go to work, windbag. Keep me updated. See if there’ve been murders with a similar MO in neighboring counties, then branch out.”
“Youngin’, be nice to your partner, you’ll need his help at some point…if you don’t drop him off the Columbia River Gorge first.” Matt pulled a heavy branch out of his brother’s way to pass.
“I think he’s hitting on our sister, dude.” More than one way to skin a cat.
As Billy stepped clear, Matt let the branches fly, nailing Royden solidly in the chest. The lower needles snagged Billy’s handkerchief, yanking the slightly bloody cloth from his hip pocket.
“She’s not for you, Patterson.” Matt’s grin widened as the satisfying thunk cleared the air.
“Hey, she’s a nice lady, or so I hear.”
“Yes, a lady. One who deserves better than
the likes of a cop.” There was nothing patient or tolerant in the older sibling’s tone.
The coroner’s wagon had left and an ambulance waited in its place. Red strobing lights broke the visual silence while two attendants slid a collapsible gurney from the back. Other techs combed the area for clues to form a coherent picture of the night’s events.
Matt handed off the bloody knife to one of the crime scene techs. “C’mon Damien, take another and let’s see what we can find.”
“I’ll call you when she wakes up, Matt.”
“All right. I’ll see if Damien can pick up another trail. Maybe we can find the victim’s passenger, probably another teenager.”
Chapter Six
Pain sliced the fine edges between the serenity of sleep and the reality of Remie’s waking world. Something dug into her right flank while a tribal beat thumped in her skull. Her forehead felt as if someone had opened it and inserted the percussion section of an orchestra with a side order of siren for good measure. Her right side and breast hadn’t fared much better.
Unable to tolerate the softest touch above her brow, she settled for the bridge of her nose. At least it functioned properly. The scent of iodoform, a disinfectant used in hospitals, drifted on a small air current. Other odors, not so pleasant, indicated sickness and mortality further down the hall even through the closed door. The room was tomb quiet. Before the prior week, she’d never been on this end of the health continuum and found a new respect for those who suffered.
“Morning, Remie. Welcome to the world of the conscious.”
The disembodied voice would become that in reality if he didn’t lower the decibels to something less than ear splitting.
“No, thank you.” Cracking one eyelid open, she looked around and discerned a mop of tousled brown hair on the man sitting in a chair by her bed. As she spoke, he combed the thick mass from his forehead.
Light pouring through the window blinds threw bars across the blanket pulled to her waist. A slight yank covered the hospital gown she wore. She had no recollection past crawling under the spreading limbs of a pine tree.
McAllister Justice Series Box Set Volume Two Page 30