by Robin Mahle
John folded his arms across his chest. “Sons of bitches don’t got nothing on us. They got no cause to even discuss anything. Yet there they were, sitting on our sofa, drinking our tea.”
“Just cool your heels. This is the way it’s gotta be for now. We’ll just have to figure a way through is all.” She started toward the door. “I best get to work. Can’t afford to lose that job. What are you going to do?”
“Hell, I don’t know. Sit here twiddling my thumbs, I reckon.”
“How ‘bout you put your noodle to use and figure out how we can get some money to keep us going?” Lynn closed the door behind her. As she walked toward her car, her attention was captured by a passing vehicle. In any other circumstance, this wouldn’t have been an unusual occurrence, but at this hour, it struck her as odd. And in fact, it didn’t look like the car belonged to anyone from Crown Pointe. It was a brand new SUV. No one around here could afford a car like that. Which made her even more concerned.
As she slipped inside her ten-year-old Toyota Corolla, Lynn drove down the lengthy driveway toward the road. She recalled the woman agent asking why her car hadn’t been in her driveway last night. Fortunately, her quick thinking appeared to satisfy the lady.
With her eyes darting from the rear-view to the road ahead and back again, she made her way into town, toward the elementary school. No one followed her. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Difficult to say since she’d already been paid a visit by the G-men and women, and now it felt like eyes were on her everywhere.
Lynn regretted this life they now had. A life without Jenny. A life without morals. Nevertheless, they’d been forced into it by circumstances beyond their control. Jenny had been a good girl. Got good grades in school, was kind to people. In fact, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’d worked at the movie theater, which had since shut down. The added income helped the family. But just a few years out of high school and that was where it all started to go wrong for Jenny. And Lynn did nothing about it. Neither did John. Both buried their heads in the sand. And when her daughter’s appearance began to change—the weight loss, the black circles under her eyes—they didn’t ask her why. They refused to see what she was becoming.
The day they got the call from Chief Tate was the worst day of Lynn’s life. But even then, she and John denied the truth of her death. The root cause of it. Like so many other parents who faced similar situations, they couldn’t come to terms with the fact that their loving and beautiful daughter was a drug addict.
Flash forward a year and the Floyds were dealing the very same drugs that took their daughter away. The jobs were so scarce and the money so tight, it was the only way to survive. Their lives had been reduced to nothing more than survival.
Lynn was yanked into the moment by the sound of sirens drawing near. She glanced into the rear-view mirror and a patrol car with flashing lights quickly advanced. She checked her speed. If anything, she was going too slowly. Her mind ran through anything else that could be cause for one of the boys to flag her down. A broken taillight? Expired tags? No. It was none of those things.
She pulled over onto the shoulder, now only a mile from the school, near the grocer’s and the mobile phone store. The patrol car stopped behind her and Deputy Slocum stepped out. Lynn’s brow knitted. She rolled down her window and felt the blast of cold air come through.
“Morning, Mrs. Floyd. How are you?” Slocum leaned into her window.
“Fine. Fine. Was I speeding?”
“No, ma’am. I just wanted to talk to you for a second.”
“About? I’m on my way to work. Can this wait? You and I both know I can’t afford to lose this job.”
“It’ll only take a minute. I understand them FBI came ‘round your place last night, along with the chief.”
“That’s right. They were asking questions about Jenny.”
“What kind of questions?”
“About her—life, I guess. Her school and friends and, of course—well you know—how she died.”
“That must’ve been tough to talk about after it’s only just gone a year now.”
“Yes, sir, it was.”
“And they didn’t ask nothing else?”
“Well, like what?”
He raised from the window to peer over the car while his eyes squinted in the sun’s rays. Returning his attention to her, Slocum continued, “I’m just trying to figure out what they’re planning, I reckon. I sure don’t want them questioning everyone who’s lost someone here in Crown Pointe. A terrible thing to have to relive.”
“I suppose so. That’d take them some time to get through.”
“Yes, it would.” Slocum tapped the door frame with his palm and stood upright again. “I won’t keep you. Best be getting to work now. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Floyd. You have a good day, now, you hear?”
“And you too, Deputy.” Lynn rolled up the window and pulled away, leaving Slocum standing on the shoulder. Through the side view mirror, she spotted him staring as she drove off.
15
A gangly man, not more than twenty-two, pushed back his unwieldly blonde hair from his face and surveyed the street ahead. Just bare trees and dirt roads. No other cars. He walked to his car and stepped inside.
“This is all they got.” He held a baggie containing several pills.
“What about what them FBI people said last night? About not buying no more drugs from around here.”
“Look, I got no reason not to trust these guys. I bought from them before. You don’t got to take them if you don’t want to. But I’m gonna. Shit, those cops don’t know nothing anyway.”
The woman next to him was younger, perhaps still in her late teens. She began licking her lips and clicking her tongue as though she was parched. “Can’t we get some Big H instead?”
“Don’t you think I tried that? Nobody’s got none right now. This is it.” The man swallowed down two pills.
“It’s gonna take forever to get a high that way,” the woman said.
“You got a better idea?” He shoved his hand toward her. “Just take the damn pills and stop your bitchin’. We got to get out of here before someone sees us.”
She took the pills and swallowed them down.
“There. All better.” He started up the engine and pulled away. As he made his way through the side streets of town, a car pulled up behind him. He checked the rear view. “Hey, you know who that is behind us?”
The woman turned. “No.”
“Don’t turn around!”
“What? You asked if I knew who it was. Don’t need to be a dick about it.”
“Never mind.” He verified the car was still following. “I’m taking you home. I don’t know who the hell that is back there, but I best get you back. Maybe they’ll turn off somewhere else.” He pulled into the Sunny Hills trailer park and stopped at number 4.
She exited the car, but stopped when he hadn’t moved. “Wait. You ain’t coming in? I thought we was gonna, you know, get high.”
“I gotta go.” He peered over his shoulder, noting the car no longer trailed behind. “I’ll see you later.”
“That car’s gone now. What are you going to do? Might as well come in.”
“Just get the fuck out. I gotta go.”
“Fine. Asshole.” She slammed the car door shut.
He drove out of Sunny Hills and returned to the main road, veering right. That was when his chest started to feel heavy and nausea whirled in his belly. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Sweat poured down his brow and he grew lightheaded. The car swerved erratically. “No. This can’t be happening.”
The all-too-familiar feeling had happened twice before. Each time, he’d pulled through. But this time felt different. Worse. Much worse. The gag reflex kicked in and made him convulse. His vision blurred as he continued to drive, attempting to reach the nearby hospital. But it was too late. He lost control of his limbs and yanked the wheel. The car turned sharply off the road, skidding to a stop. He threw open the driver’s side doo
r and retched before tumbling out of the car and purging what could only have been the bad drugs the FBI man warned them about. Splayed on the ground on the side of the road, his face rested in the pool of vomit as his body seized.
With whatever consciousness remained, he spotted a shadow approach. Whoever it was had been obscured by the sun but he begged for help.
“No one’s gonna help you now, boy.” A large bat in the hands of the shadowy figure came crashing down on the man’s chest.
Two more crushing blows to the stomach. The man lurched with each one, powerless to move away in defense.
The final strike was imminent. With wide eyes, he watched the bat fall. A swift crash against his skull, and the man was gone.
Exasperated, Chief Tate listened as Nick relayed the lab results. “So, no DNA match. Where the hell does that leave us now?”
The rest of the team looked on as tensions inside the small station house grew.
“Ness has his DEA contact working to find the origins of the synthetic pills. We need to know who’s shelling out this deadly drug.”
“Well, hell, son, I can give you the names of half a dozen dealers in this town right now. But I’ll tell you what, not a one of them has the wherewithal to pull off something like this. This sorta thing just don’t happen here.”
“Respectfully, Chief,” Quinn began, “the sooner you come to terms with this situation, the easier this investigation will go. I understand you don’t want to believe anyone here would be capable of such a thing. But we’ve given you plenty of cause to change your mind. Your citizens are being murdered. And someone is giving them these lethal drugs and then finishing them off in a horrific manner. How many more people are going to die before you get with the program?”
“Now you just wait a hot minute, son. I don’t know who the hell you think you’re talking to. I’ve been in law enforcement since you were wiping your nose on your momma’s skirt, so don’t…”
The door burst open and Deputy Slocum rushed inside. “We got another one.”
“Say again?” Lazaro shot up from his desk.
“We got another body. Off Oakhill Drive.”
“Son of a bitch.” Nick yanked his coat off the back of a chair. “We need to get down there now. You call emergency services?”
“I think that goes without saying.”
The team followed Nick and the deputy out to the parking lot.
Tate stopped Quinn for a moment. “I’m sorry for what I said back there. It’s just…”
“Me too, Chief. I think we’re all on edge right now. Come on. We’d better go see what happened out there.”
The onslaught of cars—some police, some civilian—caught the attention of everyone in the area. The ambulance had arrived and had already put the body in the truck.
Agent Fisher was the first to approach the EMT and pulled the toothpick from his mouth. “Hey. You move this body?”
“Yes, sir. Couldn’t very well leave him out here till the animals got him.”
“Jesus!” He turned to Nick. “He just contaminated the whole damn scene!”
“Calm down.” Nick stopped just short of the obvious location of where the body had been. “Everybody, stop where you are. We need to document this scene as best we can.”
“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t know…” the paramedic replied.
“It’s okay. How could you have known? It wasn’t your responsibility,” Nick replied.
“He’s right. It was mine.” Slocum approached. “I screwed this up, didn’t I? Christ.” He turned away.
“We’ll work through it. Let’s just collect as much as we can and go from there.” Nick turned to Kate and Quinn. “I’m going to need you two to jump in on this.”
“We’ll get photos,” Quinn said. “Walsh and Duncan are bagging and taggin’. Walsh is collecting soils samples too.
“I need to see the body before they haul him out of here.” Fisher stepped into the ambulance.
Nick headed toward the chief. “You think we can get some crowd control over here? These people have dealt with enough. No one needs to see this.”
Tate nodded. “Lazaro, get everyone back.”
“Ten-four, Chief.” He walked toward the growing crowd. “Okay, everybody. We’re gonna need y’all to step back so we can do our jobs, you hear?” His modest stature and inexperience aired in his tone.
“I’d say the last thing y’all are doing is your jobs,” a woman in the crowd began. “I was there last night. You people are a damn joke. None of you are gonna find the person killing all these poor people.”
“Ma’am, I’m gonna have to ask you to step back, please. I’m sure you’re just scared.”
“We’re all scared!” another shouted.
Nick turned back at the sound. “Shit. We need to get control of these people.” He looked to Kate. “You want to help him out?”
“I’ll try.” She approached Lazaro and the unruly pack. “I’ll tell you what would be a great help to us,” she said to the crowd.
“And what’s that, Ms. F-B-I,” the woman continued.
“We sure could use your help in identifying who this car belongs to. Any of you all recognize it? Or maybe one of you might’ve seen something?”
The woman revealed a small semblance of guilt. “I—I don’t know.” She turned back to the other people around her. “Anyone know whose car that is?”
A few people stepped forward. One of them was Lynn Floyd. Kate immediately recognized her.
“Mrs. Floyd? What are you doing here?”
“I work over there, at the school. Heard the commotion and the ambulance and walked over along with everyone else.”
“Did you happen to see anything?”
“No.”
Kate thought she noticed a spark of recognition in Lynn Floyd’s eyes. “Nothing, huh? What about the car? We can’t show you who’s in the truck. Not until we can find next of kin. But maybe knowing who owns that car, maybe that’ll help us out in identifying the victim.”
“I don’t know whose car that is.” She stepped back in line.
“Thanks anyway.” Kate returned her attention to the crowd. “If anyone happened to see anything—anything at all that you might be concerned about, please reach out to one of us. An anonymous call, anything.” She eyed the people once again before turning away.
“Thank you, Agent Reid,” Lazaro said.
“No problem. They just need to feel like they have some control. And right now, they don’t. We’ll be able to pull registration on the vehicle, but just asking for their help puts some power back into their hands.” She headed toward the scene again and approached Quinn.
He was squatting next to the blood-stained soil and peered over his shoulder at her. “You should take a look at this.”
Kate joined him, squatting down, her arms resting on her thighs. “What’d you find?”
“Judging by the size of our victim, this shoe print next to him doesn’t belong to him.”
“It looks like a boot. A work boot?”
“Possibly.” Quinn retrieved his cell and snapped a picture. “We’ll have this analyzed. By the way, you handled the crowd like a pro. You’ve done that before.”
“Sort of. Different situation. But, I’ll tell you, my thoughts on Lynn Floyd haven’t changed. I’m sure she recognized this car. I saw it in her eyes.”
“All the more reason to keep moving forward on our idea. With or without the chief’s knowledge.”
Agent Fisher approached the two of them. “Anything good here?”
“Shoe prints,” Quinn replied. “It’s something.”
“At first blush, the body appears to have been struck by something along the lines of a bat, markings are similar to the others,” Fisher said. “Forensics will have to make the final call, but it sure as hell looks like that to me.”
“And drugs?” Kate turned back to where the body had been. “There’s vomit all over here.”
“We’d better get a
sample of it. Tox screen will tell us for sure, but hell if I want to wait that long. We’ll get results from a sample of the stomach contents a lot quicker.”
Dispatch from the station sounded on the patrol car radio. The chief picked up the receiver. “Say again, dispatch.”
“A 911 just call came in. OD at the Sunny Hills Trailer Park. Unit 4.”
“Damn. Is an ambo on the way?”
“Affirmative.”
“Ten-four. We’ll head over now.” He dropped the radio and returned to the team. “Agent Scarborough? We got an OD down the road. 911 was called.”
Nick eyed Fisher for confirmation.
“Go. We’ll catch up. Take Quinn and Reid. Could be another one of these.”
“Quinn? Reid? We need to go now!” Nick started toward their vehicle while the agents caught up with him.
“What’s going on?” Kate asked.
“An OD at a trailer park. Could be related. 911 was called, but I don’t know if EMTs are on scene yet. Let’s get down there before they touch anything.”
Nick pulled into the trailer park where several residents had already gathered. “Should’ve brought Lazaro with us. We might need to cordon off the area.”
“You’re assuming the victim is already dead,” Quinn said.
“That seems to be the current trend at the moment.” Nick stopped in front of the trailer and next to the ambulance that appeared to have just arrived.
The EMTs rushed out of the truck and pushed through the front door. The three quickly jumped out of the SUV and ran toward the entrance. Nick led the way inside. “FBI. Chief Tate sent us.”
The paramedics worked on the young woman. One began chest compressions while the other started CPR.
“She’s still alive.” Kate was relieved.
“God willing, she’ll stay that way,” Quinn replied. “She might know the other victim.” He walked toward the paramedics. “Anything we can do to help?”
“Blankets. Towels. In the truck.” She continued the chest compressions.
Quinn rushed back outside and soon returned with the requested items. “Here.”