by Claire Booth
She wished she’d been able to present him with a solved case, or at least one that was a lot further along than the mess she’d just served up. Sure, Lonnie Timmons was a legitimate suspect, but that would turn to shit real fast if his grocery store alibi came through. At least Hank found the bocce gang amusing. That, more than anything, showed he was improving. The old Hank would’ve thought it was hilarious. Post-crash Hank would merely have shrugged at it. This version wasn’t as good as the original, but it was a damn sight better than before he went up to Columbia. She wondered what he’d been doing up there. What did grown adults do in a college town? Revert, probably.
She picked at her Whipstitch fries and watched the guy in cell number eight gesture at the inmate across the aisle. He returned the middle finger and added a few more that would make her granny roll over in her grave. Her interest rose. Maybe things would get bad enough she could throw one of them in solitary. That would definitely make her feel better. She let it go on for another few minutes and then nodded to Earl.
‘I’m going to do my rounds, starting with those jokers. I might not get to the women’s side for a while – keep an eye on them, will you?’
Earl was still flush with his new responsibilities and swore he wouldn’t take his eyes off the monitors. She patted him on the shoulder on her way out the door. The minute she stepped outside the control room, the yelling and swearing and clanging made her ears ring. The noise doubled when they saw her. Five minutes later, she felt her cell vibrate in her pocket. She was a little busy, however, and didn’t look at it until she’d thrown the instigator in the one cell that had no view into the corridor. All the entertainment went with him, and everyone else settled down.
She decided to finish her lunch before rounding through the women’s wing. She’d just finished off her soda when she remembered the phone call. Sammy. That child. She hit return.
‘What are you doing? You’re off duty. You don’t need to be calling me.’
All she heard was breathing. Even and calm. Then some wind. He must be outside.
‘Sammy?’
‘I do, actually. Need to call you. I got a report that the stolen car I was investigating had been spotted so I came out to the spot. I didn’t find the car, but I—’
‘You are not supposed to be doing that. I gave you the day off,’ she said.
‘Just shush.’
Sheila almost dropped the phone. It was like she was talking to herself.
‘What did you say?’ she finally managed.
‘You can scold me later. Right now I found a body.’
Now she did drop the phone. Earl spun around in alarm. She scooped it up.
‘Where the hell are you? Are you alone? Is the scene secure? Do you need backup?’
‘Unless you want to protect me from an upset hawk, no, I don’t need backup. I’ve already called Alice. She’s on her way out here.’
He listed off the location. Another damn backwoods killing.
‘No, I don’t think so. Not really,’ he responded. ‘It’s pretty easily accessible, dirt track all the way in. It’s definitely a body dump. It’s all wrapped in black plastic.’
So there was an additional crime scene out there somewhere. She pinched the bridge of her nose, which was suddenly radiating pain back into her head. She couldn’t leave this forsaken building. Pimental was patrolling the entire western half of the unincorporated county. Orvan was way out east. He might be the best choice. Then she remembered.
‘I’m going to send you someone. Hank’s back in town.’
‘Really?’ There was relief in his voice. She might have been offended under normal circumstances, but the way things stood at the moment, she had to agree with him.
‘Yeah. I’ll get him out there. Call me with an update, OK? Especially after you unwrap that plastic.’
Sam said he surely would and ended the call. She thought about contacting the coroner but decided that Hank could take care of that out at the scene. It’d make him feel like he was running the show. In fact, this whole thing might make up for missing the last murder. A brand new one, all to himself.
He hit the lights and hung a U in the middle of the block. People pulled over as he sped east toward the Wilderness. A body dump was bad. A body dump on a short-staffed day like this was horrible.
Having something to investigate again, however, was fantastic.
He tried to raise Sam on the radio, but got no response. When he pulled up to the coordinates Sheila gave him, he understood why. The Pup’s Bronco was in roadside dirt. He must be off duty. Had he found the body while he was out hunting? Hank pulled up behind the Ford, got out, and started looking near the cars for the best way into the woods. He’d just started down what looked like a path when Sam hollered at him. The kid was standing on the other side of the road.
‘It’s this way, sir.’ Sam gestured over his shoulder. ‘The track is through here.’
Hank crossed the road. This side looked no different to him than the other one, but Sam seemed to think where he was pointing was as obvious as a six-lane freeway. They walked about twenty yards and then things cleared out enough that he could see the twin ruts where tires had worn into the soil.
‘It’s a pretty established track,’ Sam was saying. ‘You can tell it’s been here a while. It certainly wasn’t blazed by the killer or anything.’
‘Any signs of other people using it recently?’
‘Nah. It rained last week and the only thing since then is the dump car.’ He continued walking briskly along the side of the track.
‘Shouldn’t we wait for Alice?’ Hank said.
‘She’ll find it. You’re the one I was worried about.’
And him stumbling off in the wrong direction had done nothing to prove Sam wrong. Hank sighed and walked faster. He only slipped on the leaves once before he caught up to the kid.
‘You off duty today?’
Sam explained about his earlier vehicle theft case and the call from Pimental. By then they were at the spot at the top of the incline. Sam pointed downhill and Hank could just make out the black plastic. They both stood silently for a moment.
‘Sheila told me not to come in, to take the day off.’ Sam kept his gaze on the body. ‘She didn’t say … well, anyway. I don’t know how, but I think she knew the sick-out was coming.’
‘And you’re out here anyway?’ Hank needed to tread very carefully.
‘There was nobody else available to respond. Plus, it was my stolen car case in the first place.’
‘We can keep you off the books if—’
Sam didn’t let him finish. ‘I’m just worried about her. People are nasty. People are gonna be nasty to you, but she’s gonna get a whole other level of shit.’
He finally looked Hank in the eye. Hank nodded slowly. ‘OK.’
They heard footsteps behind them and turned to see Alice jogging down the track, a duffel full of gear over each shoulder.
‘Kurt will drive the van in when he’s done with the tire casts out by the road.’
‘Wait, you got him to come?’ Sam asked.
‘Made him come.’ She grinned. ‘First I buttered him up about his casting skills, but then I told him he didn’t have a choice. He’s getting fresh air whether he likes it or not.’
She set her bags on the ground and looked around. ‘When’s everybody else getting here? Where’s the grid search?’
‘Yeah …’ Hank said. ‘About that. We don’t really have the personnel for that today. I’ll need to get the volunteer search and rescue folks out instead.’
Alice stared at him. She took in his uniform and Sam’s lack of one.
‘They went and did it, didn’t they? How many?’
‘We’ve got two deputies on patrol. That’s it. I can’t pull them off to come help.’ He raked his hand through his hair. ‘I appreciate you coming.’
She scoffed. ‘I’ve got no truck with all that. Plus, we weren’t even invited to join. We’re just the hired help. Our work schedules
don’t matter to them one whit.’ She reached down for a bag but stopped halfway. ‘Did I screw up? By making Kurt come? Did that hurt your budget? I didn’t even think of that.’
‘No.’ Hank shook his head. ‘Absolutely not. I need you both here. Sometimes overtime is unavoidable.’
He scooped up one of the duffel bags and headed toward the body before she could say anything else. He did catch the look that passed between her and Sam as he turned away, even if he wasn’t sure what it meant. He blocked it out – he just wanted to get to the body. He might not be able to navigate office politics, but he knew his way around a crime scene. He tagged scuff marks in the dirt so Alice could start taking photos, working his way closer and closer to the body.
Then he stopped. He walked back up to where the car had made its three-point turn and turned slowly, taking in every direction.
‘Who would know about this track?’ he said.
‘I was thinking about that,’ Sam said. ‘It’s hard to see, but if you were looking for something to take you back here into the woods, you’d find it.’
Excellent. Sam was asking – and answering – these questions on his own. Hank felt a surge of energy he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He swung his arms in the chilly air and pulled out his phone. Time to call the coroner and get this poor person up to the morgue for unwrapping.
THIRTY
‘No, man. I’m not kidding. A dead body. Seriously.’
Sam was walking back to the road to wait for the coroner. It seemed like a good opportunity to update Ted.
‘Nah,’ he said into the phone. ‘It’s all wrapped in plastic. So we definitely don’t have an ID.’ He wanted to remove the plastic right now and felt a little guilty about it. It wasn’t a Christmas present, for God’s sake.
‘Oh, and the sheriff’s back. He’s out here right now.’
‘Did he come back because of the body, or because of the sick-out?’ Ted asked.
‘Huh. I don’t know, actually. It does look like he was intending to patrol – he’s got a uniform on and everything,’ Sam said, then paused. ‘Could I ask you something?’
Ted said sure.
‘Why aren’t you doing the sick-out?’
There was silence on the line for so long that Sam thought maybe the connection had broken.
‘I thought about it,’ Ted finally said. ‘And it just seemed to be whining. It’s not a protest over working conditions. It’s whining that you can’t manipulate the system to take more overtime than is needed. Plus, my wife works for the county, and she’s said over and over that there’s no money. Turley isn’t exaggerating.’
Sam noticed that he’d slowed almost to a stop. He picked up his pace. ‘Thanks. I was just wondering.’
‘And here’s the other thing,’ Ted said. ‘I was out for a long time. That rehab on my leg sucked. Everybody came by at the beginning, when I was in the hospital. And there were a few who kept with it, like you and Bill and Derek. But that was it. Except – you know who kept coming the whole time? The sheriff. He’d come to the house. Even drove me to physical therapy a few times I didn’t have a ride. His wife would come and check on me at home so I wouldn’t have to go all the way in for an appointment.’
There was silence for a moment.
‘So if I’ve got to pick a side – and that’s what it seems like it’s come to – I’m going with the side that I feel good about.’
Sam hadn’t known all that. It gave him a lot to think about as he hung up the phone. He kicked at the dirt some as he walked along the path, muttering to himself. He was well into a list of everything that was currently stressing him out when he rounded a curve and realized they hadn’t blocked off the road yet. He strung up crime scene tape just as the coroner’s van arrived. Once the body was brought out of the woods and loaded, Hank turned to him.
‘Will you go up and watch the autopsy – see if there’s any ID once they’ve got it unwrapped?’ Hank asked.
Sam glanced at his watch. As he looked back up, he saw Hank’s face fall.
‘No, no,’ Sam said quickly. ‘It’s just … I have something to do tonight. As long as I can get back down here by six thirty, I can do it. It’s no problem.’
Hank looked relieved. It dawned on Sam that his boss thought he was hesitant because of the sick-out. After all, he was out here in civilian clothes. He’d obviously not expected to be working. So Hank wouldn’t know what his intent was. Hell, he hadn’t known what his intent was.
‘It’s no problem,’ he repeated, with more certainty. ‘As long as you don’t mind me being on duty in my jeans, I’ll head there right now and report back as soon as I know anything.’
Hank nodded. It looked like he was having trouble getting any words out. He clapped Sam on the shoulder and turned quickly away.
Hank was back in the control room at two thirty, a half hour before shift change.
‘Why’re you back? This is when it actually gets a little better. Deputy March comes on duty at three,’ Sheila said. ‘That’ll double my staffing levels. So I don’t need you here.’
He ignored her and handed over the coffee he’d picked up for her at the Whipstitch. She took several sips before she spoke again.
‘Do you have an ID on the body dump yet?’
‘No. Sam and Kurt should be calling any minute, and at least be able to tell us what they saw when it got unwrapped.’ He hated that he’d been forced to ask Sam to watch the autopsy. But he couldn’t leave the county. Not with the damn sick-out going on. He looked at his watch. The deputies who were ‘sick’ should be calling in soon. And there was one in particular he wanted to talk with.
Sheila allowed herself to sink into one of the two chairs in the room. Exhaustion was carving lines around her eyes and mouth. She drank her coffee in silence, which was the final proof of her fatigue right there – she’d given up telling him to leave. Hank scanned the monitors and was about to ask where Earl was when the phone rang. Sheila started to rise but he waved her back and answered.
‘Yes. I see. All right, that’s fine. But deputy … I fully expect you to feel better in time for your next shift, do you understand?’
He listened for a moment and hung up. Sheila hoisted her empty cup and sent it sailing into the trash can across the room.
‘That means Tucker’s the only one on the incoming shift who still needs to call in,’ she said.
Hank nodded. That was why he was here. He’d be taking that call and making clear that this whole overtime crackdown was his decision. And that whatever plot Tucker was busy conniving, he’d be up against Hank and the full weight of the sheriff’s elected office. It must have been plain on his face, because Sheila rolled her eyes.
‘I can handle him.’
‘Oh, I know. You absolutely can. But I’ve left you hanging on this whole thing, and that stops right now. We both decided this was the road we were taking, and so far you’re the only one who’s had shit shoveled at you. So now it’s my turn.’
‘Well, when you put it that way …’ She stood up to buzz in the young female deputy, who saw Hank and snapped to attention. That got him another Sheila eye roll. He sent the kid to walk the female wing just as the clock hit three. The two of them looked at each other. Tucker hadn’t called. And he sure as hell wasn’t here. They grinned at each other.
‘Excellent,’ Hank said. He was about to say more when his cell started buzzing. He answered it and put Sam on speaker.
‘So, it’s some dude. No wallet or ID on the body.’
‘Dammit,’ Sheila said. ‘If it’s another one of those bocce players, my head is going to spontaneously combust.’
Sam snorted with laughter. ‘No. I’ve seen all the bocce guys. This guy is not one of them. Plus, he’s nowhere near that old – probably just in his late twenties or early thirties. Skinny-to-medium build, wearing what look like pretty standard Walmart-type clothes. Kurt’s bagging all of it, then he’ll take fingerprints.’
‘Cause of death?’ Hank aske
d.
‘Probably blunt trauma to the head. He was a little decomposed.’ Now Sam sounded queasy. ‘But not so much that Dr Whitaker couldn’t see those wounds. He was definitely bashed on the head. It’s just whether that killed him. I left before the doc got to the lungs and stuff so I could come out and call you. I hope that’s OK.’
Sheila was nodding emphatically. ‘It’s fine,’ she whispered, holding up two fingers. ‘Two bodies in four days. The kid doesn’t need to see all that after the week he’s had.’
Hank assured him that was fine. ‘Can you stay up there until Whitaker’s done? Just in the lobby. If somebody’s still in the building waiting, there’s a better chance we’ll get a preliminary report tonight. If you go, he’ll cut out and we won’t get anything for days.’
Silence.
‘How long you think that’ll take?’ Sam finally said.
Hank and Sheila traded puzzled looks.
‘You’ll get paid,’ Hank assured him. It was unlike Sammy to balk at, well, anything. He was always up for whatever got thrown at him. But it was also unlike normal circumstances around here, so he supposed he couldn’t fault the kid.
‘That’s not … oh geez … that’s not it. I didn’t mean …’ Sam sighed. ‘I have a date. At six thirty.’
Now they both looked like proud parents. Then Sheila smacked her hands together so suddenly Hank jumped.
‘The coffee girl,’ she said gleefully. ‘It’s the coffee girl, isn’t it?’
‘She’s. A. Barista.’
‘So it is her?’
‘Yes. Her name is Brenna.’
Hank couldn’t help himself. ‘When do we get to meet her?’
‘Oh, my God. Stop.’
Now they were laughing. Sheila clapped a hand over her mouth and Hank cleared his throat to keep from chortling straight into the phone.
‘So I’m asking,’ Sam said, his voice climbing a little higher with every word, ‘when I’ll be done here. I don’t want to be late.’
Sheila jabbed a finger at Hank, then pantomimed driving a car.
‘OK, how about this,’ Hank said. ‘If you don’t have what we need by five fifteen, I’ll come up and relieve you. That should leave you enough time to get back here and shower before you meet her. Where are you taking her?’