When the Tiger Kills: A Cimarron/Melbourne Thriller: Book One

by Vanessa Prelatte

  *****

  Dawn was already at her desk, working on her computer, when Rafe walked into the bullpen a few minutes before the start of shift. He got himself some coffee from the break room before strolling over to her desk. Looking over her shoulder, he was surprised to see her studying intently a photograph of Monieque Torrense. Something about her expression made Rafe exclaim, “You've got to be kidding. You're seriously taking a look at the mother for this one? Why? I told you, the missing Mr. Jago Bolt is our man. Unless you buy that it's a coincidence that he just happened to jump on a plane for Florida within hours after the murder.”

  Dawn swiveled around in her chair to face him. “I know, I know. But there's something off about her, Rafe. You know how she just crumpled and fainted when we went over and broke the news about Cullen to her? There was something about it that just didn't feel right to me.”

  Rafe looked skeptical. “It's hardly surprising that she fainted when we told her that her son was dead. I've seen it happen time and time again when I've had to notify next of kin. You've seen it yourself on more than one occasion. Remember when we had to notify Rochelle Brandtner's parents that their daughter had been killed? Her mother fainted dead away.”

  Dawn inclined her head thoughtfully. “I remember. I also remember Jaclyn Aultmore.”

  “Who's Jaclyn Aultmore?”

  “A girl I went to high school with. Any time there was a test scheduled that she wasn't prepared for, she faked a faint. She'd just be walking along when suddenly, down she'd go. Her parents would come and pick her up, take her to the doctors. They did all sorts of tests on her, but never found anything. Some of us knew what she was up to, but we never said anything, because she was popular enough to make life hell for anyone who ratted her out. Anyway, when Monieque Torrense fainted, it triggered something in the back of my mind. Couldn't put my finger on it at first, but then this morning I finally got it - she reminded me of Jaclyn. The way she went down, it was kind of graceful, you know? Jaclyn used to do it that way too.”

  Rafe frowned and considered for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “Okay. Your instincts are usually good about things like this. We'll take a hard look at Monieque Torrense. Meanwhile, what about the physical evidence? Did we get anything back from the lab?”

  “Not yet, but I just got off the phone with Ramón. He promised to have the results to us by the end of the day, at the latest.”

  Though his face betrayed nothing, Rafe was grinning to himself in his head. Ever since Dawn had helped Ramón Ouray's wife get a job in the accounting department at Sloan Lewellen's downtown headquarters, the chief lab tech had been far more accommodating than he had been before. And when it came to closing cases, getting the lab results quickly was key. However, since Dawn was sensitive about exploiting her connection with her father-in-law, he contented himself by merely saying, “That's good news. Maybe the results will be in by the time we get finished testifying in the Brandtner case.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, Dawn said, “We might as well head over to the courthouse. The ADA wants to go over our testimony with us one last time before we go on the stand.”

  After Dawn had finished giving her testimony, she headed out of the courthouse. She was hopeful that the jury wouldn't take too long to find Allyn Brandtner, the defendant, guilty. Brandtner, the married father of two, had called 911 six months previously, claiming that he had come home late from work to find his wife, Rochelle, bludgeoned and beaten to death in their bedroom. The kids, fortunately, had been spending a week at their grandparents' house. After questioning Brandtner, Dawn and Rafe had discovered that his story contained enough holes to drive a truck through. He had lawyered up quickly after that, but forensic evidence and an alibi that just didn't hold water had been enough to get an indictment for second degree murder. Dawn was confident that the evidence was overwhelming enough to secure a conviction.

  Rafe had finished his testimony much earlier and had gone to the morgue in order to be present for the autopsy of Cullen Torrense. They had agreed to meet back at headquarters once she finished her own testimony. Therefore, she was surprised to see her partner walking up the courthouse steps toward her as she exited the building.

  “What's up?”

  “Quite a few things. Walk with me, and I'll fill you in.” On the way to the nearby parking garage, Rafe began, “First, there were no surprises at the autopsy. Cause of death was just as it appeared at the scene. Second, the fingerprint analysis came back on the knife that was used to kill Cullen. Handle had been wiped, but the perp didn't do a thorough enough job. Ramón found a partial at the point where the handle meets the blade. When he went looking for a match, guess what he found? Print belongs to Cullen's good buddy, Jago Bolt.”

  “Well, well, well. What a surprise.”

  “Yeah. The lieutenant is working with the DA's office to get an arrest warrant. Hopefully, it won't take too long for the Florida cops to run him to earth. If we get lucky and he waives extradition, we could have him back here in a couple of days.”

  “Anything else come back from the lab?”

  “Not yet. Still waiting on the hair and fiber analysis.”

  “You said that there were a number of things going on. Anything else?”

  “Yeah. Hold onto your hat, partner - we just caught another case. Call came in right after I got back from the morgue. Attempted murder. Young man, late teens or early twenties, badly injured. Apparently, someone pushed him off a cliff and left him for dead. We need to get out to the scene. Let's take your car; it's more comfortable.”

  Dawn was not surprised to see her husband standing among the members of the search and rescue team when she and Rafe arrived at the crime scene. A career-ending injury may have caused Ty to opt for early retirement from the regular Air Force, but he had joined the Civil Air Patrol, its civilian auxiliary, as soon as he was pronounced sufficiently recovered to fly again. And providing emergency services such as assisting in search and rescue operations was number one on the list of CAP’s three fundamental missions. In addition, CAP's services were increasingly being sought by various government agencies, including local law enforcement.

  Mark and David, two members of Ty's team, were carefully transporting the victim to the top as Dawn and Rafe approached the cliff side. Ty nodded to them, but kept his attention focused on his team. Three patrol officers and a man dressed in the garb of a park ranger were also closely following the actions of the rescue team. After making sure that the scene was properly secured, Rafe hailed one of the patrol officers, Addar “Snake” Jordan, who walked briskly over to them.

  “Hey, Jordan, what have we got here?”

  “Park ranger over there – Dale Thrushton's his name – called it in. He spotted the kid, climbed down, and discovered that he was still breathing. He did what he could for the kid while he waited for the search and rescue guys. Kid kept drifting in and out of consciousness, and Thrushton got enough out of him to confirm that it wasn't an accident.”

  The ranger had walked over to the trio in the meantime and arrived in time to hear the last part of Jordan's statement. Nodding to the others, Thrushton picked up the story. “He was only conscious for a brief time. I kept asking him, 'What's your name, son? How did this happen?' He never told me his name. He just kept repeating, 'Pushed me. Tried to kill me. But it's Lee he's after. You have to find Lee.'”

  Their attention was distracted as the search and rescue team crested the top of the cliff with the unconscious victim. Paramedics quickly took over, placing the young man gently on a gurney, checking his vital signs, and administering emergency treatment. Dawn and Rafe were able to talk to them briefly before the paramedics loaded the victim onto the waiting helicopter, but they were unable to glean any additional information. The victim was still out of it, and unlikely to regain consciousness anytime soon. Rafe, after looking at the victim's hands, ordered them to be bagged and requested that the hospital personnel fo
llow proper procedures regarding his clothes. Anything else would have to wait for a more propitious time. After everything had been secured, they watched as the rescue helicopter, with Ty at the controls, took off for the hospital.

  The helicopter Ty was currently flying was his own, one of two he had purchased for the use of the team, outfitted with all of the latest technology available for search and rescue missions. Although CAP maintained its own corporate fleet, there had been no squadron in Mountpelier before Ty had formed one, so, like many other members of the Civil Air Patrol, he regularly made his own aircraft available for missions mounted by the local CAP squadron.

  After the helicopter had left, Dawn and Rafe made their way to the tent that had presumably been occupied by the victim, since the crime scene techs had just finished photographing and processing it for evidence. It was a small sports dome tent, about 7x7 at the base, that looked like it could sleep two or three people comfortably. A double sleeping bag occupied the center of the tent. To one side lay a portable catalytic heater; on the other side, a rechargeable battery lantern, a first aid kit, and a green backpack stamped with the logo Mountpelier University.

  Rafe focused on the backpack first. “Only one backpack.” He rifled through the contents quickly. “No wallet. No ID. Extra pair of socks, underwear, T-shirt, sweat shirt. All male. But only enough for one. Double sleeping bag says two.”

  Dawn nodded. “The other one was probably this 'Lee' the victim kept taking about. Lee can be either a male or a female name. A couple of college kids, probably, taking a long weekend alone. And they must have had a vehicle. No way that they hiked up here carrying all this stuff.”

  A voice calling Rafe's name drew them outside the tent once again. Walsh, one of the crime scene techs, was waiting for them.

  “We've found something near the point where we believe the victim was pushed over. He led them to a spot where a clump of bushes grew. “Found a tube of green oil paint in there. And see these puncture marks here? Given the oil paint and the placement of the marks, I'm guessing that someone had an easel set up here, and quite recently too. And over here?” He led the way to a rock nearby. “We found a beer bottle set down beside the rock. There was another one lying on its side over there.” He gestured to a spot a few feet away. “But the interesting thing? Someone poured out the contents of most of a beer behind this rock. See that indentation in the rock? The beer gathered there in a little pool. We were able to bag a good amount of it for analysis.”

  “That it?”

  “Uh-uh. Come on over here.” He led the way behind a small grove of nearby trees. “See that?” he said, pointing down. “Ground's too hard here to leave any usable impressions, but it's just disturbed enough so you can tell that someone had a vehicle parked here recently. Big one too. Maybe a pickup truck. And look at this.” Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat, Walsh pulled out an evidence bag and waved it under their noses. Rafe caught a glimpse of something sparkly inside. “What do ya think of that?”

  Rafe squinted. “What exactly is it?”

  “It's a jaw clip,” Dawn responded.

  “A what clip?”

  “A type of women's hair clip. A pretty fancy one at that,” Dawn commented, taking a closer look at the hair ornament as it sparkled in the sunlight. “Not the sort of clip you would usually take on an ordinary camping trip. Unless it was also a big, hot date.” She met Rafe's eyes. “I'd be willing to bet that we've just found the first trace of 'Lee'. Girlfriend, probably.”

  Rafe pondered for a minute. “That was good work, Walsh. Did you already send a sample of that spilled beer you bagged to the lab?”

  “Not yet. We were waiting so that we could send all the evidence in together.”

  “I'm going to have one of the patrol officers take the beer sample in right away. I've got a funny feeling about it...”

  “You think it might have been drugged?” Dawn interposed.

  Rafe nodded slowly. “The victim – He's a big kid. Wouldn't have been easy to take down. Drug him first, you've got a big advantage.”

  “Except he didn't drink all of the beer.”

  “Yeah. He might have put up more of a fight than the perp bargained for.”

  Dawn frowned as her phone signaled just then. “It's Ty. Let me go and take this. He might have some news from the hospital.” She moved a little distance away just as Walsh returned to update Rafe.

  “I sent Gomez in with the sample and called the lab. Told them to put a rush on it. They griped a little and complained about their backlog, but that's just routine for them. They'll come through for us in the end.” He frowned as he noticed Dawn on the phone a few yards away. “How is she managing to get reception on her cell phone here? This part of the park is a dead zone for cell reception.”

  “She has a Satphone. No problem getting reception anywhere if you have one of those.”

  “Oh, well, that explains it. We have a couple of them, but they're older and much bulkier. That one looks just like a cell phone. Maybe we can get one or two of those put into the budget for next year.”

  He thought for a moment, then said, “Sergeant... about the missing car. Do you think she could have taken it? The girlfriend?”

  “Still trying to play detective, Walsh?”

  “C'mon, Sarge. We've known each other a long time. You know I'll keep my mouth shut. Won't say anything to anybody, especially the media. Humor me.”

  Rafe rolled his eyes heavenward. “I don't know why I put up with you, Walsh. Probably because of the entertainment value. It's way too early to be speculating like this. But – just to humor you: suppose 'Lee' was the victim's girlfriend, and she got away while the perp was trying to take the boyfriend out. If she'd made it to the car, she would have jumped in and tried to get away immediately. She wouldn't have gone into the tent first and grabbed all her things. Besides, if the beer was drugged? She'd have been in no shape to run, let alone drive a car.”

  “You think the perp planned it all. He had it all set up in advance.”

  “Maybe. It's early days yet, but it's starting to lean that way.”

  “Ty says that the victim is in surgery.” They both focused their attention on Dawn as she rejoined them. “He talked to the paramedics who treated him and some of the other personnel at the hospital. The victim is in bad shape. Head injuries. Shock, hypothermia. On top of that, he's got a dislocated shoulder, a broken leg, and a couple of cracked ribs. But get this: kid had bruises all over him that are inconsistent with the fall. And you were right about the damage to his fists, Rafe. According to one of Ty's sources, it looks like he had been in a hell of a fight.”

  Rafe turned back to Walsh. “We need as much information as possible, and as quickly as possible, from all the evidence you've collected. How long before you're done with the scene?”

  “We're almost finished now and ready to take it all back to the lab.”

  “Okay. Keep us posted.”

  As Walsh walked away, Rafe began to walk along the cliff, staring at the valley below. “The car's the key. Find the car, run the tags, we identify the victim. Find out who his girlfriend is. Prints from the beer bottle might tell us, but only if they're in the system. Once we identify them, start interviewing family, friends. When and where were they last seen? Trace their movements. Perp may have stalked them. Knew they were planning to go camping this weekend, knew where to find them. Find a witness who noticed someone taking an unhealthy interest in the pair of them. But first, the car. We need to find that car. Problem is, it's a big park. Where to start?”

  Dawn replied, “It's not going to be easy. Remember the Chandra Levy case? They searched Rock Creek Park over and over looking for her, but her remains weren't found until a year later. And that park was minuscule compared to this one. On top of that, I talked to Thrushton again after I spoke with Ty. He says that they're way short-handed right now. Two of the park rangers are out with the flu, another is in the hospital recovering from emergency surgery, and
a fourth left yesterday to attend his father's funeral in Phoenix. The search and rescue team will bring in the dogs and set up a search grid, but if the perp put the girl in a vehicle, the dogs won't be able to do much. And the victim's car? It could be anywhere.”

  “We could ask your Uncle Pete for help,” Rafe reflected. “He may be retired, but after forty years as a park ranger, he knows this park better than anyone else alive. Ask him to put himself in the perp's shoes. What's the most logical place to hide a car?”

  Dawn considered the idea. “It'd take about twenty-five minutes to get to the house from here. I could have Ty refuel and meet us there with the helicopter. We take Uncle Pete up with us, we have a better shot of finding the car quickly. Yeah, it's a good idea, all right. I'll call ahead to let them know we're coming – and why.”

  They had to consult with the remaining patrol officers and crime scene people before they could leave the scene, so it was actually more than forty-five minutes later before they approached the large ranch house currently occupied by Pete and Mattie Nevo. The wooden frame house stood in the middle of a meadow hollowed out in a bowl on the side of a mountain. A line of trees marched down a slope to the left and rear. A rustic split rail fence enclosed the ranch house. The facade of the dwelling sported an A-Frame roof at the center portion and spread out into two wings on either side. A stone chimney graced the left-hand side of the structure. Directly under the gable formed by the A-Frame stood the front door, with a plaque to the side bearing the name Cimarron. However, Dawn betrayed no emotion as she walked up and knocked on the door of her childhood home. Rafe noticed, however, that she kept her gaze focused straight ahead, not looking at the breathtaking scenery. Especially not toward the far edge of the meadow, where the land dropped away sharply and where, he knew, a stream flowed below.