Her Broken Wings

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Her Broken Wings Page 18

by Hood, D. K.


  “Not even in the service?” Kane narrowed his gaze. “Or in DC?”

  “Nope.” Carter shrugged. “I led my team and kept my head down.” He gave Kane a long look. “You’re wasting your talent here. Ever thought about applying to the FBI?”

  Biting back a grin, Kane stood, turned away, and made notes on the whiteboard. “Nah, here I have one boss and I live on her ranch rent-free. I have wide-open spaces, fishing, and hunting on my doorstep. I’m a happy man.”

  “I have that too.” Carter hit the switches on the coffee pots. “Well, I do now. Unless they call me back to DC. If they do, I might vanish again.”

  “I bet Jo would put up a fight if they do. There’s no way she’ll be able to run the Snakeskin Gully office alone. She needs a chopper pilot and a detective, so I figure you’re safe.” Kane turned at a knock on the door to find Rowley. “Oh, good, you’re back. Is there anything to report?”

  “No, all quiet at the Old Mitcham Ranch. I covered the entrance with crime scene tape, and the trailers and ranch house.” Rowley dropped a takeout bag on the desk and pulled an evidence bag from under his arm and handed it to Kane. “The wallets from the victims. It seems they’re all out of Wyoming. Wolfe checked the male victims against their driver’s licenses and they all fit. He’s taken prints as well and added the information to our case files. The girl we’ve identified as Ruby Evans, who worked at Aunt Betty’s Café. You recognized her and so did I, so that’s two for two, but Wolfe requires a positive ID. I spoke to Susie Hartwig and got Ruby’s details. She lived with her aunt out on Elk Creek.” He stared longingly at the coffee dripping into the pots. “It’s been a long day.”

  Kane nodded. “I guess from the bag of takeout you haven’t eaten yet? Grab a coffee and take a seat. Jenna will be back soon and we’ll discuss the case.”

  “Thanks.” Rowley pulled off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair. “This is the worst so far, isn’t it?”

  Kane’s attention drifted to the images on the whiteboard. “Yeah, this is a twisted, unpredictable mind and he’s charging down victims like a mad bull.”

  Thirty-Seven

  A cool breeze scented with the promise of snow blasted Jenna as she hurried to the cruiser with Jo at her side, carrying bags filled with her purchases. She had to admire a woman who could select an entire wardrobe in twenty minutes flat. There had been no deliberation; she’d cast her gaze across the available range and had the goods at the checkout in record time. She’d pulled on her new hiking boots, jacket, hat, and gloves before dashing out the store. “My head’s spinning. I’ve never seen anyone shop so fast.”

  “The time to go shopping is a luxury I haven’t been able to afford since I joined the FBI.” Jo waited as Jenna popped the trunk and dropped her bags inside. “Not if I wanted to be a wife and mother as well.”

  Before Jenna had the chance to start the cruiser’s engine, she heard Atohi Blackhawk calling her name. She opened her window to speak to him. “Are you chasing after me?”

  “Yeah.” Atohi squatted by her door and his friend, Brad, placed one hand on the roof and stared down at her. “Jill, the forensic pathologist, has removed the bones and wants to take them to Helena to study them.”

  “You can’t allow that.” Brad’s tiger eyes flashed in anger. “We won’t allow it. She must remain here.”

  Unsettled by Brad’s aggression, Jenna lowered her voice. “I’ll speak to Wolfe. He’ll know what to do.” She looked back at Atohi. “Any sightings of Brad’s brother?”

  “He has a name.” Brad stared at her. “It’s Scott.” He touched an angry-looking scratch along his jaw as he stared into the distance. “He’s out there somewhere. I feel a connection to him.”

  Oh boy, we have another crazy. “Okay. Has Jill mentioned continuing the grid search?”

  “Yeah, she’s asked for volunteer archeology students from the college to assist.” Atohi’s gaze searched her face. “She’ll be leaving a couple members of her team to oversee the excavation but we’d appreciate it if you could intervene on our behalf.”

  Wondering why Atohi hadn’t expressed his concerns to Wolfe in person, Jenna nodded and started the engine. “I’ll call him the moment I get back to the office.”

  As if reading her mind, Atohi stood.

  “I’ve been calling him all day and keep getting his voicemail.” Atohi frowned. “And he’s not at the morgue.”

  Jenna sighed, unable to elaborate on why Wolfe was busy. “He’s working a case. As soon as I speak to him, I’ll get back to you. I’ve gotta go, I have a meeting.”

  “Sure.” Atohi slapped the top of the cruiser and the two men walked away.

  “Problem?” Jo stared after the men. “His friend sure has a ton of pent-up aggression.”

  “Cold case.” Jenna turned into the flow of traffic and headed to the office. “They’re talking about his mother’s remains. They found them in the forest but his brother is still missing. Brad witnessed the murders when he was a kid.”

  “Well then anger is a better response than being charming.” Jo raised one eyebrow. “With that traumatic event, he could easily have turned out a psychopath.”

  Five minutes later, Jenna was shucking her coat and hanging it on a peg in her office. She rubbed her hands together and went around her desk to her seat. A cup of coffee appeared beside her like magic and she smiled up at Kane. “Okay, the gang’s all here. I see you’ve added the information to the whiteboard. We have a ton of ground to cover and can get the cases moving while Wolfe is busy with the forensic investigations. Just one moment.” She picked up her landline and dialed the morgue. “Emily, I guess your dad is busy, but I need a favor.” She explained Atohi’s request. “Call me when you have time and let me know what he said.” She disconnected. “Okay, back to the case. I’m going with Jo to interview Mrs. Robinson at the hospital. Kane and Carter, I want you to hunt down details about the victims, you know the drill. You’ll need to contact the closest sheriff’s office and ask them to notify the next of kin. Tell them we need someone to come by and identify the victims.”

  “Okay. We’ll need space and a bank of computers, so we’ll be working in the CCTV control room.” Kane stood and Carter followed him out the door with Zorro at his heels.

  Jenna looked down at her notes. “Rowley, head out to Ruby’s address and speak to her aunt. She’ll need to formally identify Ruby’s body.” She sighed. “Take her to the morgue and wait until Wolfe has prepared the body for viewing. I’m guessing he’ll be doing her first as she lived locally.” She tapped the pen against her bottom lip. “Wolfe is very busy but ask him if he’s made headway on getting positive IDs for Parker Louis and Tim Addams, the Stanton Forest victims.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Rowley stood, picked up his empty takeout bag, and tossed it in the trash. “I’ll call if he has any info. It’s going to take time for Wolfe to make Ruby presentable.” He pushed his Stetson on his head, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door.

  Mentally exhausted, Jenna drained her coffee cup and pushed to her feet. “Okay, Jo, we’re off to see the wife of the first victim, Lucas Robinson. She told us she was lying beside her husband when he was shot.” As they walked back out in the rapidly dropping temperature, Jenna brought Jo up to speed.

  “Do you think she pulled the trigger?” Jo slid into the passenger seat of the cruiser. “The spouse is usually the first suspect.”

  Jenna nodded, climbed behind the wheel, and started the engine. “My gut told me she’s involved but we don’t have enough to get a warrant to search her bank statements. I haven’t followed up yet as we had the other murders in quick succession. It’s not her on a killing spree— she’s locked up in the psych ward at the hospital.” She glanced at her. “That’s why I want you to interview her. My gut is rarely wrong.” She backed the cruiser out onto the road and headed for the hospital.

  “How was she when you arrived on scene?”

  “Rowley was the first responder. Mrs. Robinson calle
d 911, and she seemed lucid, but by the time he arrived she wasn’t saying anything. He cuffed her, thinking she could be responsible.” Jenna sighed. “When we arrived, she’d spoken to Wolfe and I was able to question her; she seemed distant.”

  “Did she say anything unusual?” Jo turned to look at her.

  Jenna allowed the memory of that night to percolate into her mind. “She’d hidden under the bed after the shooting, didn’t check on her husband, just ran downstairs and hid in a broom closet. She was asking me if she could’ve saved him.”

  “Hmm.” Jo went silent for some minutes. “Of course, we all react differently in a crisis. It’s typical to experience a variety of emotions following a traumatic event. The incident triggered her flee response and she ran away. Running from the room and down the stairs knowing the shooter could be in the house is unusual.”

  Jenna turned into the hospital parking lot. “My feelings exactly. She’d waited for a time under the bed—she must have known the shooter had gone. Why didn’t she check on her husband before hiding?”

  “It’s a question we need to ask her.” Jo gathered her briefcase and looked at Jenna. “Usual feelings include fear, shock, numbness, grief, disillusionment, and anger. Some even say it’s like an out-of-body experience.”

  Jenna got out of the cruiser and they walked into the hospital. “I’ve suffered from PTSD, so I do have some idea, and I’ve been trained to handle stressful situations. I thought I was unbreakable until I had a knife to my throat and then a man’s head exploded next to my face. So, I can relate to what she went through.”

  “That must have been tough.” Jo gave her a concerned look. “Did you have trouble sleeping and concentrating?”

  “Yeah.” Jenna pushed the memories away, into their safe place, and smiled. “I was indecisive forgot to eat, and acted stupid, but Kane hauled me back into shape.”

  “How so?”

  Jenna pushed the button for the elevator and waited for it to arrive. “The incident happened because I’d let my guard down. Kane insisted on daily workouts, as in hand-to-hand combat, and he gives no mercy.” Jenna flicked her a glance and stepped into the car. “He’s got a metal plate in his head, so with the constant headaches it must have been difficult for him, but he drilled me until my confidence returned. He also instilled in me that he’d always have my back.”

  “He understands the condition.” Jo smiled at her. “Support is very important, and making you feel safe would’ve been his first priority.” She led the way out the elevator.

  As the pieces fell into place, Jenna fell into step beside her. “I thought he was being overprotective and macho. I told him to back off.”

  “Really?” Jo chuckled. “But you felt safe, right?”

  Jenna nodded slowly. “I still do.” She walked toward the secure ward and swiped her card. The door slid open and she led the way inside. “Carol Robinson will be in here. As she’s here for voluntary psychiatric assessment, we’ll have to speak to the attending physician before questioning her.”

  The hospital smell surrounded Jenna as they walked to the nurses’ station. She requested Mrs. Robinson’s room number and asked the nurse to call the attending doctor. As luck would have it, the doctor was on the ward. The doctor, a man barely thirty, came to greet them, not in the white coat she’d expected but in jeans and a sweater.

  “Dr. Bligh? Sheriff Alton and this is Agent Jo Blake.” She held out her hand. “Do you have a report on Carol Robinson? We would like to interview her if possible.”

  “I don’t see a problem. She is in surprisingly good spirits.” Bligh’s hand was warm and his grasp firm. “She is asking if she can go home. I’m surprised she wants to return to the house. For most people it’s the last place they’d want to go. This is the reason I’ve kept her here. I’m still evaluating her condition.”

  “She can’t return home. It’s still a crime scene. For now, I’d prefer her to remain here. She doesn’t have any relatives to go to and we may need to question her further.”

  “That would have to be voluntary at this stage.” Bligh frowned. “In truth, she can walk out when she wants.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “I’ll see if I can convince her to stay. Please contact me if she ups and leaves, won’t you?”

  “Of course.” Bligh walked them to a room and went inside. “Carol, you’ll remember Sheriff Alton. She wants a word with you.”

  The woman sitting in an easy chair reading a book didn’t resemble the blood-spattered woman she’d met on the night of the shooting. Jenna introduced Jo and then turned to the doctor. “Thank you, Dr. Bligh, we can take it from here.”

  “Afternoon, Sheriff.” Carol Robinson placed her book face down on the coffee table and looked at them. “Is it time for me to go home?”

  Jenna pulled up a chair and Jo followed so they both sat opposite her. “I’m worried about your safety, so I’d prefer you to remain here for the time being, and your house is still a crime scene. I’m sure you don’t want to return to it like it is?”

  “No, I guess not.” Carol stared into space. “I’ll have to redecorate, and get new carpets as well.”

  Jenna nodded. “I think so.” She indicated toward Jo. “Agent Blake has a few questions for you. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Carol turned her attention to Jo.

  “What do you remember about the time before the intruder shot Lucas?” Jo casually took out her iPad from her briefcase and then looked at Carol. “Tell me about the days before it happened.”

  “It was the same as always.” Carol blew out a sigh. “He went to work and came home late. Some nights he didn’t come home at all. He had business meetings and refused to drink and drive, so stayed over in town.”

  “Did you ever worry about him having an affair?” Jo’s face hadn’t changed expression as if she’d just asked what she’d had for lunch. “I sure would.”

  “It entered my mind.” Carol picked at her fingernails. “A woman called, asking after him, one night. Lucas said it was his secretary reminding him about an appointment is all.”

  “How did that make you feel?” Jo glanced down at her notes.

  “I’d heard the rumors; you know, about him having an affair with one of the girls from the beauty parlor.” Carol gave her a slow smile. “She didn’t get him, did she?”

  “No, I’d guess she didn’t, if the rumors were true.” Jo gave Jenna a meaningful look and then moved her attention back to Carol. “Did you shoot Lucas?”

  “No, and the medical examiner swabbed my arms for gunshot residue.” Carol looked straight at Jenna. “You know darn well I was in the bed beside him when it happened. I had his brains all over me.” She looked back at Jo. “Why would you ask me a question like that?”

  “We have to ask—it’s a normal part of the questioning.” Jo patted her arm. “So, in your own words, what happened that night?”

  Jenna went through the notes she’d taken on the night as Carol recalled the shooting. The story remained the same, maybe a little embellished. “How long did you remain under the bed?”

  “I don’t remember. Five minutes maybe.” Carol moved around in her seat, clearly agitated.

  “How did you feel then?” Jo looked at her. “Angry, scared?”

  “Scared.” Carol dug her fingernails into her arm. “Lucas’ arm was hanging over the edge of the bed and it was moving. I could see it with the light from my phone.”

  “So why didn’t you help him?” Jo made some notes.

  “I couldn’t look at him. I had his blood all over me.” Carol looked Jo straight in the eye. “I just ran.”

  Jenna checked her notes. “So how long after the shooting did you call 911?”

  “I’m not sure… Time seemed to stand still.” Carol looked out the window. “Is that all? I’m tired.”

  Jenna glanced at Jo and she nodded. “Yes, thanks for the chat.” She stood and they walked from the room. “What do you think?”

  “I think you need to loo
k a little closer at her. She’s involved. She didn’t pull the trigger but maybe she has a boyfriend who did.” Jo smiled at her. “I think your gut was right this time.”

  Thirty-Eight

  He noticed the sheriff’s cruiser coming his way in the reflection in a storefront window. As it went by, he turned to get a better look. Sheriff Alton was at the wheel, and the woman wearing the FBI jacket, who he’d seen her with earlier, was riding shotgun again. He wondered if his time at the Old Mitcham Ranch had made an impression on them. He ran the exquisite pantomime through his mind, his payback to the big boss man who’d parked across the alleyway, blocking his truck. It had taken one question in Aunt Betty’s Café to discover where the crew worked. The girl who’d spilled his coffee had been the perfect bait, and getting her had only taken a small amount of his time. The moment he’d stepped out of the bushes, he’d strangled her just enough to keep her unconscious until he’d decided her time to die.

  He’d headed out to the Old Mitcham Ranch. Late at night, the boss man and his smart-mouthed workers would be slow from drink and drunk from sleep. He’d driven right in with Ruby out cold in the back seat. The chairs, he’d found stacked up on the front porch and set them out just before reviving Ruby and puncturing her thigh. He licked his lips, almost tasting the memory of the kill. Ruby had screamed like a banshee and the men had come running, falling over each other to get to her. They’d argued over how to stop the bleeding and not one of them had called 911. He’d walked right up to them unnoticed, a weapon in each hand, and the big boss man had wet himself. Once he’d made them secure each other to the chairs, he’d had all night. The smell of blood had been like perfume filling the air in a heavy fog. His vivid recollections of the terror in the helpless men’s eyes, their screams of pain. The way they’d begged for mercy and twitched after he’d shot them had fed his hunger, but their faces he’d forgotten the moment he’d walked away.

 

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