Nodding, Martin groaned, “Sorry about that Curtis, I guess I should’ve thought of that myself. Come on up to my office.”
Entering his office, Martin motioned the other man toward a faded brown leather chair while Martin coordinated some necessary arrangements with his office. Martin then sat at his desk staring at the phone wishing there was a way out of this. After a moment he sighed, “Come on, Weston, we can’t put this off. We’ll have to take a ride out to Walt’s and talk to Jewel. She’s going to take it hard.”
Pulling into Walt’s driveway, Martin rolled the patrol car to a stop and took a deep breath. “Curtis, this is going to be rough. I talked to Jewel just last night and she was hysterical.”
Jewel stepped out onto the porch of her childhood home and watched Sheriff Crawley and Curtis Weston get out of the patrol car, their hats in their hands. “Dear God, no.” She took a step forward as the two men approached the porch.
“Let’s go inside where we can talk, Jewel,” Martin said softly.
Dry-eyed, she turned and opened the screen door, motioning them inside. “Just tell me Sheriff. I’ve waited so long and I need to know.”
Taking a seat in a chair across from her, Martin waited until Curtis sank down on the couch next to Jewel. “Sweetie, we found your daddy this morning.” Blinking back his own tears Martin turned his face away from her and shook his head.
Fat tears rolled from her eyes, streaming down her face to drop somewhere out of sight. Wrapping her arms around her middle Jewel rocked, soft sobbing sounds escalating to great heaving moans. “I knew it. I did, I knew. Where…where was he? What happened?” She choked out.
Sliding closer to the young woman, Curtis slipped a supporting arm around her shoulders and pulled Jewel tight against him.
Fingering his hat nervously in his hands Martin murmured, “We found him out on the County Road bordering the Reservation. Jewel, I don’t know any good way to say this but you need to know. Walt’s death is being treated as a homicide.”
Pushing away from Curtis, Jewel raised her head to stare at Martin. “You’re saying someone killed Daddy? I want to see him, take me to him.”
Curtis spoke up, “Jules, your daddy wouldn’t want you to see him this way. He’d want you to remember him the way he was. He’d want you to remember that he had a good life.”
Jumping up from the couch, Jewel turned on Curtis. “Shut up, Mr. Weston! Don’t you dare tell me he had a good life, not when it ended this way.” Her voice broke and dropped. “It wasn’t supposed to be over yet. Someone stole the years that he had left…they stole from him and from me.” Turning to face Martin she asked, “Who did it Sheriff? Who killed my daddy?”
Martin rubbed a hand across his face, “We don’t know yet. We’ve got a full team investigating.”
Dropping back on the couch, Jewel wept, “Oh, God, this can’t be happening. My daddy didn’t have an enemy in the world.” Pushing tears away with the back of one hand she asked, “Where is he? Did you take him to the funeral home?”
Martin cleared the lump from his throat. “Not yet. He’s at the County Morgue and once they’re finished with the autopsy he’ll be transported to the funeral home.” He tried to soften the facts. “The law requires us to have an autopsy in homicide cases. Royce Wiggins over at the morgue promised to give you a call to let you know when your daddy’s been moved to the funeral home.”
As he stood to leave, Martin looked at Jewel, her face was pale and drawn. “Jewel, I’ll call you as soon as I know something on the case but in the meantime if you need anything you just give me or Barb a call, okay?”
The girl nodded.
Martin pulled into his driveway and went inside where Barbara waited. “Barb, it was heartbreaking having to tell Jewel about her daddy. That girl thought Walt hung the moon. I couldn’t even let her see the body, ME’s not through with it and I don’t really think she needs to see it anyway. It won’t be like looking at the daddy she remembers. Weston stayed with her, but I told her that she can call us anytime and we’ll be there for her.”
Waiting until Martin wound down, Barbara finally said, “Come on, Martin, I’ve got dinner ready and after you eat you’re going to go out to the garage and tinker with that old car of yours. No TV, no radio, just you and your car. Then later when you come in you’ll have this all straight in your head.”
Martin rose and followed her to the kitchen, where he stooped and kissed her cheek as she sat at the table they’d shared for the last twelve years.
CHAPTER 30
Entering the State Park, Tate drove his SUV to the faded wooden building that served as a registration office. Parking in front of the building he turned and grabbed his hat from the backseat and pushed it down on his head. By the time he’d locked the SUV, Emma was waiting for him at the door and together they entered the tiny wooden office. Within a few moments, they had what they came for.
On the short drive back to town, Emma scanned the copied registration sheets, comparing them to the pages they’d taken from White’s Lake Lodge. Nothing popped. Looking up she caught Tate’s eye and shook her head. “Nothing here. Maybe it’s like you said and the perp didn’t register, or maybe it’s someone who doesn’t have to register, like an employee.”
Keeping his eyes on the road, Tate said, “I thought of that too. The park has a few paid employees that work full time. They also have a group of volunteers that help out. The lake only has paid employees and not too many. I already have a list of everyone who works at the lake, how about you call the park and have them fax or e-mail us a list of all employees and volunteers and we’ll cross match that as well?”
Nodding, Emma pulled her cell out and using the phone number on the letterhead of the papers, called the park and requested the names. “We should have them on e-mail by the time we get home.” Silently she cursed and turned to stare out the passenger side window. Not your home Emma, and don’t start acting like it is.
Catching her faux pas and seeing that she was now beating herself up for it, Tate reached across the console and pulled Emma’s hand from her lap grasping it in his own much larger one. With a gentle squeeze he felt her body relax.
The ringing of Tate’s cell forced him to let go of Emma’s hand. “Echo here.”
“Tate, this is Daniel Westhaven. Royce asked me to call Martin and let him know that we’ll have the results from Walt’s post mortem ready in about four hours. I tried Martin’s office and his cell but didn’t catch him so I thought I’d give you a call. We just got Walt on the table and we’ve pushed everything else back. Royce has a lab tech on site and ready to pull any pharmacology or tox reports that we need stat as well.”
“I appreciate that Daniel,” Tate said. “You probably caught Martin out of cell range, but I’ll get in touch with him. Can you deliver the reports to my house when they’re completed?”
“Sure thing, won’t be a problem at all. Does Martin need a copy delivered too?”
“No, I think one will be good. When I talk to Martin I’ll have him come over and we’ll review the report together. Thanks again.”
Disconnecting the call with Daniel, Tate pushed a number on his speed dial and listened as Martin’s phone rang. A female voice came on the line, “Sheriff’s phone,” she answered. Recognizing Barbara’s voice, Tate said, “Barb, this is Tate Echo. I need to speak with Martin please.” Tate listened as the woman talked then said, “Tell him to give me a call as soon as possible Barb.” Disconnecting the call Tate turned and noticing Emma’s quizzical stare, “What? The man’s in the shower and his overprotective wife refused to hand him the phone!”
Laughing for what felt like the first time in days, Emma joked, “I’m betting that Martin’s wife is a real bear when it comes to her man.”
Tate grinned. “I’ll take the bear any day of the week. That woman is vicious when it comes to protecting Martin.”
Toggling his blinker, Tate turned into his driveway and pulled the SUV to a stop in front of the gara
ge.
As they walked to the porch, Emma asked, “Did Martin ever say if he talked to the Babcocks? I still want to know what they took from the cache that day.”
“No he didn’t say,” Tate mused. “I’m guessing that with Walt being found, it slipped his mind. I really think you’re off base with that theory, Em.”
Pushing the front door open Tate stepped back, allowing Emma to enter when his cell rang again. “Martin, glad you got back with me so quickly. Daniel says we should have the ME’s report on Walt in a couple hours, how about you stop by and we all review it together? Seven okay?”
“When he entered the house, Tate was surprised to find Emma in the kitchen filling a large pot with water.
“I thought I’d make us something to eat before the report comes.” Moving the pot onto a back burner of the gas stove, she bent and watched as the flame came on and adjusted it down before standing to meet Tate’s gaze. “Now if you’ll just tell me where you keep the pasta, I’ll get this going while you grab a shower, if that’s okay?”
After showing her where he kept the pasta and a few other essentials, Tate went to shower.
Ten minutes later, he marveled at the wonderful smells throughout the house. Making his way into the living room, he turned toward the kitchen intending to help Emma, when a knock at the front door stopped him. Thinking it was Daniel with the report, Tate pulled the door open and was puzzled when no one was there. A cardboard box with its top folded corner over corner sat in front of the door. Looking in both directions Tate didn’t see anyone walking away. A sound from the box drew his attention and kneeling down, he unfolded the top to reveal a small yellow dog. He caught movement in the hedge lining the side of his yard, and Tate raised his eyes without turning his head to see a small boy squatting in the bushes.
Reaching into the box, he gently lifted the puppy and held him in the crook of his arm. Tate pulled a folded piece of brown paper from the bottom of the box. In blue crayon someone, probably the same someone hiding in the hedge, had written ‘he was going to take him to the pound.’ Dropping the paper back in the box Tate looked at the puppy and spoke loud enough for the child in the bushes to hear.
“No pound for you. No sir. A good looking dog like you should have a home. I’ll take real good care of you fella. Of course, if the person who left you here should ever want you back, I bet we could work something out.” Seeing the little boy slide further into the hedge Tate turned to go inside before he noticed Emma standing just outside the kitchen.
Seeing the puppy, Emma rushed forward, a smile on her face. “Where did you get that?” she asked, reaching for the tiny bundle of yellow fur.
“Not positive, but I think a neighbor kid two doors down left him. I found him in a box on the porch with a note saying he was going to the pound. Poor kid was hiding in the bushes to see if I’d take him or not.”
Laughing, Emma brought the puppy’s nose to within an inch of her own. “Now, aren’t you just about the cutest thing in the world?”
Watching Emma coo at the puppy, Tate thought what a good mother she would have been. Hugging the puppy close, Emma moved through the kitchen and into the laundry room, grabbing a clothes basket and pulling a clean towel from the dryer. “Let me get this little guy settled, then we can eat. You’re going to need some puppy chow pretty quick, so maybe we can run into to town before Martin comes.”
Tate was clearing the dishes off the table while Emma rinsed and put them in the dishwasher when they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Catching Emma’s eye, Tate winked. “Hope it’s not another puppy.” Setting the last of the dishes on the counter he moved to answer the door. “Hey, Daniel, come on in.”
“No time, Chief,” Daniel handed Tate a thick manila envelope. “My youngest has a thing at the elementary school tonight, and I’ve got to get home and get cleaned up. Here’s the report on Walt. You can call me or Royce if you have any questions, but I probably won’t be able to answer until after I leave the school.”
“Sure thing. I appreciate you dropping the report off for me.”
“No problem at all, it was on my way home.”
Watching Daniel leave, Tate dropped the folder on a tall table behind the sofa, “Hey Em, I’m going to run down to the store and grab some chow for the pup before Martin gets here. That okay with you?”
Emma appeared at the opening between the dining area and the living room, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. “Sure. That was the report?”
With a nod he pointed to the unopened envelope on the table before grabbing his keys. “Fifteen minutes and I’ll be back.”
Watching Tate go, Emma thought that they almost seemed like a normal married couple. Don’t go there Emma. You’re not married to the man. Your time is almost up and you know it.
Emma went back to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then picked up the pup and sat at the table to wait for Martin and Tate.
CHAPTER 31
Martin arrived first. Accepting a cup of coffee from Emma, he sat at the table across from her. Taking a sip he pronounced, “Good coffee, Ms. Emma.”
Hearing the front door open, Emma gently placed the puppy back in his basket and went to pour Tate a cup of coffee. Minutes later, the three officers of their respective organizations sat at the table reviewing the ME’s report for Walt Mabry.
Martin spoke first. “Report says that Walt had a massive heart attack before his throat was slashed, says that all the cuts were made post-mortem. I’m damn glad he was gone before the bastard cut him.”
Sipping his coffee, Tate spoke. “A heart attack is the better way to go. I do wonder what started the cardiac episode. Could have been fear, or it could have been the Ketamine. We may not know for sure but he had a pretty big dose of Ketamine in his system.”
“Other than the heart attack, there’s not much here that we didn’t expect to see, except that Walt wasn’t sexually assaulted,” Emma added.
Martin shrugged, “Guess he doesn’t like old men.”
Shaking her head Emma voiced her thoughts, “More likely that he didn’t want to have sex with a dead man. I bet he was pissed when Walt died before he could follow his routine.”
Tate looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m guessing that he’s going to go after his next victim pretty quick, since this one didn’t follow the expected pattern.
Emma stood to refill their cups. “I was thinking the same thing. His signature process was thrown off balance with Walt dying before he completed his routine and other than pissing him off, that means he didn’t get the sense of gratification from the kill.”
Martin thanked Emma with a nod and lifted his cup as she poured the dark brew into it. “So you’re saying this one didn’t count?”
Emma set the glass coffee pot down, “That’s pretty much it, Sheriff. This UnSub follows a strict ritual with all his kills. He subdues the victim, makes his secondary cuts, arm, eye and ear then rapes them and finishes with the kill cut to the throat. He’s followed that exact pattern with each one and since Walt died in the middle of his process, he’s going to need another victim in order to feel gratified.”
Martin whistled through his teeth, “Damn. The town’s in an uproar already and when the evening paper comes out with Walt’s obit, things are going to get real ugly around here. Folks are scared stiff. Down at the diner, Burt says he’s not getting any business after dark with folks afraid to be out at night, and we haven’t had an illegal fishing call from the lake in over a week. People are holed up at home. We’ve got to catch this guy and I mean now, before anyone else gets hurt.”
Tate’s cell interrupted the conversation and Tate excused himself to take the call. Returning a few minutes later, Tate looked at Emma, “That was the county lab calling. That piece of glass that you found at the site today was confirmed as a camera lens.”
Martin frowned, “You mean the bastard is taking pictures?”
Tate shook his head, “Not pictures, Martin, videos. That lens was from a mot
ion activated mini-camcorder device.” Addressing Emma, he continued. “Based on the weathering on the lens you found, techs determined that it had been there no more than a day before Walt was found. Seems our guy likes to record his work.”
Showing no surprise, Emma listened as Tate continued to explain how the battery powered camcorder worked to Martin. When both men were silent Emma suggested, “You know, it’s possible that the geocache owner put that camera there just to see who was finding his site, right?”
Tate looked at her, “Could be, but my gut tells me that it’s his. He’s the kind of sick bastard that would like to have a souvenir of his kills.”
Emma slid back into her chair, “That reminds me, were you able to talk to the Babcocks about what they might have taken from the cache that last day, Martin?”
Leaning back Martin nodded, “I did talk to Mrs. Babcock. I just got so caught up in things when the call came in about Walt that I forgot to tell you. Mrs. Babcock said that the boys each took a present from the cache. The older boy took a deck of playing cards and little Justin took a coin of some type.”
Tate and Emma’s eyes met across the table. Tate spoke first. “Did she tell you anything about the coin? Could she describe it?”
“She did. Said at first they thought it was some kind of Travel Bug, whatever that is, but then her husband looked at it and told Justin he could take it if he left something of his in return. She claimed it was a gold-colored coin a little bigger than a fifty cent piece and that on one side it had…”
Martin looked thoughtful for a minute. “Damn it! She said it had something that looked like the Olympic rings on one side. That’s what this guy is carving into the arms of his victims.” Frustration in his voice, Martin continued, “How the hell could I have missed that? How the hell? You were right Miss Emma, it is what they take that gets them killed.”
Emma patted Martin’s forearm, “It’s been a busy day for everyone and sometimes it takes a quiet minute before things click. Did she say what was on the other side of the coin? When we talked to Reva she said it had words but she couldn’t remember what they were.”
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