by C. M. Sutter
Clayton stood at our backs. “Listen up, ladies, and take notes. This is your field work”—he looked from right to left—“literally. Go ahead, Lena. Let’s hear what the bodies are telling you.”
Lena glanced at each face that surrounded her. “Are you ready?”
We gave her a group nod.
“Okay. What we have here are two male bodies with what appear to be bullet holes dead center in their foreheads.” She carefully lifted each head and felt the back side for exit wounds. She nodded. “The bullets went through, and the holes in the back are pretty big. That’s telling me a large-caliber weapon was used.”
“A .38 or a .45? Somewhere in that neck of the woods?” Billings asked.
“Definitely a .38 or larger. Once the bodies are lifted, we can check the soil beneath for slugs, but upon initial exam, I’d say they were shot somewhere else and dumped here. There isn’t enough blood surrounding the bodies.” She pointed at the patch of weeds in a three-foot circumference around the men. “No castoff anywhere. They’re wearing everyday clothes, so they aren’t professionals in the business sense of the word. The blond looks to be in his mid-thirties”—she cocked her head toward the second man—“and he looks a bit younger, maybe late twenties.”
“Any IDs on either of them?” I asked.
“Nope, and check this out.” She turned their hands toward us, palms up.
“What the hell?” Kate leaned in closer. “The pads of their fingers have been removed?”
“Yes, and it looks like they were just sliced off with a common knife.”
I gave that some thought. The only reason the perp would remove their finger pads was because the men had records and would be identified by their fingerprints. Whatever enterprise the dead men were involved in was serious enough to implicate many more people if they were identified. “Can you get an ID off their dental records?”
“Normally, but their teeth were bashed in, probably with a hammer.”
“Wow.” Kate pushed off her knees and stood. “These men were dumped like yesterday’s trash, and somebody is absolutely trying to hide their identity.”
“Then why leave them on the side of the road where they were easily seen?” I asked.
“The logical answer to that is the men aren’t from this area. They’d be recognized as soon as their faces were aired on the news,” Lena said. She turned back to the bodies and bent their joints at the wrists and knees. “They’re beginning to show signs of rigor. I’d place their deaths sometime this morning. My initial thoughts would be three to four hours ago.”
I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time—1:36. “So the nine thirty to ten thirty range?”
Lena nodded. “Seems about right.” She called out to Jason McMillian, her assistant. “Let’s get them in the van.” She glanced at the dark billowy clouds moving in. “Looks like it might rain.”
Billings addressed the forensic team. “Let us know if you find anything.”
“Sure thing, Detective Billings,” Kyle said.
We walked together back to the cruisers. “Now what?” I asked.
Clayton answered for the group. “Now we go back to the office, explain what we saw to Jack, and figure out where these men are from and who they are.”
“Using the timeline?”
“That’s exactly right, Amber. Whoever killed them had to take the time to remove their fingerprints and knock out their teeth. They were then transported here from wherever and found, according to the 911 call”—he checked his notes—“at twelve fifty-two p.m. All of that takes time, so they couldn’t have come from too far away.”
I brushed the blades of grass off my knees. “You’re thinking Milwaukee?”
“For now it’s our best guess. Let’s go.”
We climbed into our cruisers and headed to town.
I gave Kate the side-eye. “Getting any images in that psychic brain of yours?”
Kate turned right onto Highway G as she followed Clayton to the sheriff’s office. “It doesn’t just pop into my mind like that. Hell, if it did, law enforcement could sit back and eat doughnuts while I figured out the whos, whys, and wheres of every case. Then I’d just delegate people to go out and pick up the bad guy.”
I shrugged and silently read each billboard as we passed. “Wouldn’t it be nice, though?”
Chapter 3
“How’s it going?” McKinley watched as a newly printed bill was removed from the nearest laser printer. The hum of machinery meant new money was constantly being pumped out.
“The process is running like a fine-tuned clock, Mr. Moore.” Royce handed him a twenty for inspection.
McKinley held it under the lighted magnifying lens and studied it with admiration.
“We just need to keep those bleached singles coming in. I’d suggest getting ten more laser printers.”
“Great idea, Royce, and we’ll talk about that later. I intend to start bleaching here at the warehouse, where we can keep a close watch on the entire process from start to finish. People like Joe aren’t reliable or careful. He was a moron.”
Royce nodded as he placed another blank in the printer. “Yeah, and now he’s a dead moron.”
McKinley retreated to his office and closed the door behind him. He took a seat at his desk and made a call to his eldest son, Frank. “I need you to come to the warehouse today.” McKinley heard a sigh on the other end of the phone. “Is there a problem with that?”
“No, Pop, I’m just trying to figure out a time when I can get away. Our monthly branch meeting is set up for three o’clock. That usually runs at least an hour.”
“Then be here at five. I’ll call Grant too and tell him the same time.”
“Okay, that should work. See you then.”
“Can you bring ten stacks of singles with you?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
McKinley tapped the end call button, listened to make sure the call disconnected, then dialed his younger son, Grant.
“Hey, Pop, what’s up?”
“Busy?”
“Yeah, the remodeling is done. All that’s left is the finishing touches. The grand opening is Friday night.”
“Make sure to pay the contractors from our shell corporation assets.”
“I have been.”
McKinley chuckled. “Good work, Grant. I’ve already called Frank. We’re having a meeting at the warehouse at five p.m. I need you there.”
“Not a problem. See you then.”
With the phone back on its base, McKinley rounded his desk, opened the door, and scanned the warehouse for Juan. He yelled out to him when he saw Juan at the inspection station. “Juan, I want you and Derek in my office right now.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Moore.” With a flip of the toggle switch, Juan clicked off the lighted magnifying glass, nudged the shoulder of the man working alongside him, and crossed the warehouse floor to the only office in the building. With a two-rap knock on the door, they waited on the other side for permission to enter.
“Come in.”
Juan pushed up his sleeves and exposed his thick, muscular forearms that were covered in ink. Both men stood until they were offered seats.
“Grab a chair.”
“Thank you,” Derek said on their behalf.
“Who cleaned up the shit in my office while I was out?”
Juan spoke up. “I believe Marco did, Mr. Moore.”
“Find out for sure. He’s due for a promotion if that’s the case. That was a disgusting mess. Now tell me about the drop.” McKinley turned his attention to Juan and gave him a nod.
“The bodies were prepared first.”
“You mean the norm—fingerprints and teeth?”
“Yes. Then we placed them in shrink wrap, tossed them in the back of the van, and headed north.”
“North? Why north?”
“Um… no reason in particular except that it’s cow country and less populated.” Both men grinned. “To be honest, Mr. Moore, thirty miles
north is like being in a different country. All that’s around the area are fields where farmers on tractors are plowing something with shit-smelling fertilizer. We found a flat, straight road where we could see for miles in each direction. There wasn’t any traffic, so we pulled over, yanked out the bodies, and dumped them in a deep ditch. We unrolled them from the shrink wrap and left them there.”
“What did you do with the shrink wrap?”
Derek jerked his chin toward the warehouse space behind them. “I tossed it into the incinerator.”
“That’s good, very good. No loose ends and no witnesses?”
“No, sir, we were professional all the way. The dump only took five minutes.”
“Where are their personal belongings?”
“I’ll get them for you. They’re still in the van,” Juan said.
McKinley rose and escorted the men to the van that was parked just inside the overhead roller doors. “Remove the money from their wallets then toss everything into the incinerator, phones too.”
Derek pulled out the bills from both wallets and handed them to his boss. “Anything else?”
“Yes”—McKinley tucked the paper money into his front pocket—“send Marco into my office.”
Chapter 4
Jack sat on the edge of my desk, his arms folded across his chest. He gave me a nod. “Go.”
“We arrived at the scene at one fifteen. I spoke to the couple who called in the discovery, took notes, and then joined the rest of the team at the bodies.”
“What did the scene tell you, Amber?”
I closed my eyes and relived everything I remembered. “Two deceased men were lying in the ditch on the south side of Paradise Drive, each with what looked to be a large-caliber bullet hole in the forehead. They were pale and cold to the touch, and rigor was setting in, according to Lena.”
Jack turned his head toward Kate. “What happened next?”
“Lena said there were exit wounds at the back of the skulls, and by the lack of blood under the heads, they had likely been dumped at the location. Both men appeared to be under thirty-five and were dressed in T-shirts and jeans.”
He tipped his head at me. “Amber?”
“Neither man had identification on his person, they both had the pads of their fingers sliced off and their teeth were bashed in.”
Jack pointed at Kate. “What is that telling you?”
“That the perp doesn’t want those men identified.”
I glanced at Billings and Clayton, who were clearly enjoying our recollection exam from the field. Both men leaned back into their chairs with a leg crossed casually over their knee. They locked their fingers behind their heads and grinned from ear to ear.
“What else?” Jack looked from Kate to me.
“May I?”
“Of course. Go ahead.”
“I’ve learned a lot from my dad and Jade. They told me if I studied every scene thoroughly, I’d see more than just what was in front of my face.”
“And those two were, and are, your greatest role models, Amber. Always let your eyes lead you. So what else did you see other than the obvious wounds to their foreheads?”
I grinned. Everyone knew that Jade and my dad, Tom Monroe, were the best teachers anyone could hope to have. I counted on Jade’s advice daily.
“The vic who looked to be the older of the two had bleach stains on his pants.” I smiled at the men in our group, because they were about to get the raspberries. “Now, granted, he was a man.”
“No duh,” Billings said.
I grinned even harder. “As I was saying, he was a man, so he could have lacked normal laundry skills, or the bleach stains could have been related to his job.”
“That’s something we need to press Lena on. Maybe she can check for bleach on his skin and during his toxicology exam, and I’ll tell Forensics to inspect his clothing even closer. What about the second man? No bleach stains on his clothes?”
“I didn’t see any.” I looked around the room. “Anyone see bleach stains on him?”
Billings huffed. “I didn’t see the stains on the first guy’s pants. Nice work, Amber.”
“Thanks, Adam. Also, the fact that the bodies were on the south side of the road tells us something. For the sake of convenience, the perp was probably driving east when he dumped them. I doubt if somebody would carry a grown man across the street just to toss him into the ditch on the opposite side of the road. Time constraints would factor in that too—in and out quickly. The weight of each body, that of a typical-sized man, could tell us that there were either two perps involved or one very strong man. Hypothetically, if they came from Milwaukee, they could have taken Highway P or 45 to Paradise and continued east. They dumped the bodies, drove to any number of crossroads that took them back to P, then backtracked to the freeway again. Or they could have continued east until they reached I-43 and drove into Milwaukee that way. There isn’t necessarily a defined in and out anymore thanks to GPS.”
Jack nodded. “Very good assessment, Amber. Did those men look familiar to any of you?”
Clayton and Billings said no, and Kate and I didn’t recognize them, either.
Jack pushed off my desk and stood. “Okay, if there isn’t anything else, we need to get out there and ask questions from people in the area. Lena will get us the details on each body. Tattoos, birthmarks, age, height and weight, that sort of thing. We’ll get the information on the air as soon as we can.”
“There is one more detail I’d like to bring up.”
Jack took his seat again. “Yeah, what is it?”
“I doubt if the killings were executions in the true sense of the word. That’s normally done in the back of the head while the victim is kneeling, plus I didn’t see any stippling on their foreheads.”
“Correct. So what’s your theory?” Jack scratched his chin as I began.
“I think the perp took them by surprise. He whipped out his gun and, in a fit of anger, shot both of them in the head as they faced him. That indicates they somehow betrayed his trust. Also, the men had blood-transfer smears on their clothes. I’m sure Lena will confirm that.”
“What does that tell you?”
“That they were wrapped in something after they were killed, likely to keep the vehicle clean and to avoid accidental fingerprints on the bodies.”
“Damn, girl, you’re almost as good as Jade.” Clayton whistled his approval. “It won’t be long and she’ll have your lieutenant’s position, Jack.”
Jack chuckled. “She better not. I’ve only been at it for six months. Okay, everyone, grab a quick snack.” He checked the time on his wristwatch. “We’re heading out at four o’clock sharp. Meanwhile, I’ll come up with a grid of streets around the dump site for our interviews.”
I headed to the lunchroom with the other three and dropped change into the sandwich machine. I pressed A4, and a turkey club popped off the rack and dropped to the bottom door. Kate and I sat together at the lunch table. She pulled a napkin from the dispenser and began drawing the roads that surrounded the area where the bodies were found.
“What I’m wondering”—I said around a mouthful of turkey—“is why everyone uses Washburn County as their dumping ground. It gives our communities a bad reputation.”
“It’s because nobody notices a thing out in the farmland of Mayberry USA. The men are yammering it up in their barns or at their local gas station coffee klatches, and the women are baking pies.”
I laughed. “I doubt if we’re that Mayberryish.”
“You wanna bet? There are a lot of cornfields out here.” She stopped talking and stared at the table.
“Memories?” I reached out and squeezed her hand. “They were dreams, Kate, remember?”
“I know, but really bad ones that came true.”
“Embrace your gift. Don’t let it scare you. We need that extra help your visions give us. They worked in the past, and they’re going to work again. All of us depend on you.”
“I know
, and thank you for saying that.” Kate checked the time again. “We better hurry and finish our lunch.”
Several minutes later, we gathered with Jack, Clayton, and Billings at the front entryway. Jack handed sheets of paper to each of us.
“First, we’re going back to the dump site. I want to see it for myself and take in the surroundings. After that, we’ll work off the streets on the sheets I gave you. I’ll take one grid, Amber and Kate, you take another, and the same for Clayton and Billings. We’ll work as teams.”
“You don’t have a partner, Jack,” I said.
“Yeah, I do.” He patted his sidearm. “Her name is Glock.” He tipped his head toward the parking lot. “Let’s go.”
We reached the dump site at 4:20 p.m. and parked the cruisers along the opposite shoulder of the road. Clayton led the way to the flattened patch of grass that spanned a good fifteen feet of the ditch.
“There was a lot of foot traffic out here, Jack, but the vics were lying dead center right there.” Clayton pointed at an area that had a slight tint of blood on one side. “Their heads were at that end, noted by the bloodstains.”
Jack nodded and stepped into the ditch for a closer look. “Yeah, they were definitely dumped here. Gunshot sounds would really carry in these wide-open spaces. I’m sure the perp wouldn’t want that kind of attention, and there isn’t cast-off blood anywhere.”
I stepped into the ditch too and checked for any missed clues. “Exactly, and if the victims were shot here as they lay on the ground, there would be holes in the soil beneath their heads.”
Jack brushed aside the flattened grasses. “No holes. The only thing we can hope for is somebody recognizing them from the photos Lena takes. Tattoos could help too.” Jack climbed out of the ditch, glanced at the sheet of paper in his hand, then shielded his eyes and scanned the horizon. “There’s a newly plowed field over there to the left. The closest house to that field is on Maple Road.” He turned in a slow circle and studied the landscape. “Damn, it’s more remote out here than I thought. There are subdivisions behind us, closer to North Bend, but they’re a good mile back. It’s doubtful those homeowners saw anything in this direction. Okay, time to rethink my outline. Let’s visit every house in a one-mile radius of this spot. Nobody could see anything beyond that, anyway.”