The man was in his fifties, with a full head of gray hair. He was about five-eleven, his sloping chest running to a small potbelly that hung over his belt. The woman was petite and in her thirties, about five-three, with a wiry build, shoulder-length blonde hair, and pretty features. The man wore a rumpled suit. The collar of his white shirt had a small black stain and his tie was crooked. His teeth were uneven and darkened by nicotine. The woman had on a sleek black pantsuit with a pristine white blouse and two-inch chunky heels to bump up her height. And her teeth were a brilliant white.
They held out their badges and asked to come in.
“Detectives Marty Green and Donna Lassiter,” said the man. “Do you live here?” he asked Amber.
She nodded. “I’m Amber Mitchell.”
Green looked at Decker and Jamison. “Which means you two must have been first on the scene. We understand that you’re also with the FBI? Mind if we see your IDs?”
Decker and Jamison held out their creds. Green gave them a perfunctory glance, but Lassiter scrutinized them.
Green said, “We’ve read your statements. Now we’d like to hear your story first-hand.”
They all sat down in the living room. Lassiter said to Amber, “Ma’am, could I ask you to wait in the other room while we go over this with them? Thank you. We’ll want to talk to you later, of course.”
Amber quickly rose, glanced anxiously at her sister, and left.
The two homicide detectives settled their gazes on the pair.
Lassiter said, “Your IDs show you’re not special agents.”
“We’re not,” said Jamison. “We’re civilians working for an FBI task force.”
Green looked at Decker. “Civilians, huh? I’ve been a cop a long time and my nose tells me you’re one too.”
“Burlington, Ohio. Pounded a beat for ten and then a detective for about another decade before joining the Bureau.”
Green cleared his throat and opened his notebook. “Okay, let’s go over what happened tonight.”
Decker spoke first and then Jamison.
Green methodically wrote it all down with pen and paper.
Decker noted that Lassiter used a small electronic notebook, her fingers flying efficiently over the keys.
When they’d finished telling their stories, Decker said, “Did you determine cause of death yet? Or ID them?”
Green started to say something, but Lassiter got there first. “Sorry, but it’s our job to ask the questions, and yours to answer them.”
Decker looked at Green. “Do I take that as a no on both counts?”
Green said, “We’re working on it. There was a lot of blood, but no source that we could find.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. I didn’t see any wounds on the guy hanging, but you’ll need to check it against him, to see if it was his blood. They could have killed him, drained his blood, and strung him up.”
Green grimaced. “That sounds like some kind of cult thing. Like a sacrifice.”
“And if it’s not the vic’s blood?” said Lassiter.
“Then it might be somebody else’s. And they might be in a database somewhere.” He paused. “Or it might not be human blood.”
Lassiter and Green looked stunned by this.
“What makes you think it’s not human?” Green asked.
“I’m not saying I think that. I’m just saying that killing an animal and collecting its blood is less problematic than doing so with a human. Driving out here, we passed some farms with cows, goats, and pigs on them. I’m just saying it’s a possibility. Now, the guy in the basement: Was he one of yours?”
Lassiter started to say something, but this time Green beat her to it. “No, he wasn’t. But the uniform he had on was one of ours.” He added, “The big question is, where did it come from? We’re also tracking down the ownership of the house. Neither man had any ID on him.”
During this exchange Lassiter was looking at her partner with unconcealed exasperation. She leaned over to Green, but in a voice both Decker and Jamison could clearly hear, she said, “Marty, we haven’t ruled these two out as suspects.”
Green glanced at her and his expression turned uncertain. He looked at Decker. “We’ll need to check out your whereabouts during the time in question.”
Decker nodded. “We only got into town tonight around six. We stopped for gas right before we arrived here and the credit card transaction record and the CCTV at the gas station will confirm that. After we had dinner, I came out on the back porch. It was dark by then. Alex’s niece joined me a few minutes later. Alex was inside talking to her sister. Around eight-fifteen, I saw the spark and ran to the house and found the bodies. Alex called 911 a few minutes later. Your guys arrived shortly after that.” He paused. “I checked the pulse of the guy downstairs just to make sure he was dead. I didn’t have to do that with the guy hanging. The body in the basement was very cold even though it wasn’t really all that cold down there. And the limbs were stiff. And he had blowflies in his nostrils and it looked like they had already laid eggs. But the infestation was minimal.” He paused again and studied the pair for their reaction to this.
Green said, “If your alibis check out, then the time of death on both men might well eliminate you as suspects.” He glanced sideways at his partner before continuing. “How many homicides have you handled, Agent Decker?”
“Hundreds,” said Decker. “In Ohio and with the FBI. I’m technically on vacation, so if you want an extra pair of eyes, I’m available.”
“Decker,” admonished Jamison. “How is it a ‘vacation’ if you’re going to work another case?”
“It’s out of the question anyway,” said Lassiter.
Decker kept his gaze on Green. “I was just offering because I understand that these aren’t the only recent murders in town.”
“Who told you that?” said Lassiter sharply.
“Is it true?” asked Decker.
Green glanced at Lassiter and nodded. “Unfortunately, it is true.”
Chapter 5
THUNK-THUNK.
The rear doors of the body wagon closed and off went the two unidentified corpses.
Decker and Jamison watched from the street as the vehicle passed by, followed by a patrol car.
Police tape fluttered in the breeze left over from the storm.
Detective Green walked over to them while Lassiter went back inside the house.
Green said, “We’ll run their prints. Hopefully, that will turn up who they are.”
“A lot of people aren’t on databases,” pointed out Jamison.
“But a lot of people are,” countered Green.
Decker said, “So tell us about the other homicides.”
Green unwrapped a stick of gum and started chewing, balling up the wrapper and sticking it in his pocket.
Decker watched him. “I had a partner back in Ohio who chewed gum all the time. She was trying to kick the smokes.”
Green said, “I’m two years off the cancer sticks. But I’ve worn my teeth down to nothing.”
“So, what other homicides?” Decker persisted.
“We got a lot of problems in this town. Businesses boarded up. Houses foreclosed on. Many with no jobs and no prospects of a job. Opioid addiction is through the roof.”
“That’s not just here,” said Jamison. “It’s all over.”
Green continued. “When I was a kid the mines and mills were still operating. People had money. Dads worked, moms stayed home and raised the children. People went to church on Sunday. Downtown was alive and well. Then the mines and mills went belly-up and everything came tumbling down. Because it all depended on the mines and mills. They were the only reason there was a town.”
“Baronville?” said Jamison. “My sister told me a little about it.”
Green chewed his gum and nodded. “A long time ago, John Baron Sr. came to the area and discovered coal. He built the town because he needed workers for the mines. He made a fortune off that, an
d then opened coal and coke plants, then textile mills, and later a paper mill. And then he hit natural gas and made more money. My granddad told me old man Baron only had one setback in his whole life. His textile business soured and he was planning to sell it by the time he died. But other than that, the man never missed when it came to business. Baron built this huge mansion and lived like a king. But when he died things started going downhill. The businesses started tanking and were sold off. When the economy nosedived back in the seventies and then manufacturing went overseas, they all eventually went out of business. The music stopped and the good folks of Baronville were caught with no place to sit down. Been that way ever since.”
Looking impatient, Decker said, “Are you going to tell us about the homicides or keep giving us a history lesson on Baronville?”
Green spit out his gum and stared directly at Decker.
“Four vics at two different crime scenes. Both happened in the span of two weeks, the last barely a week ago.”
“Similarities? Patterns?” Decker wanted to know.
“Only in that each one was weird,” replied Green, his lip curled in disgust.
“No leads?” asked Jamison.
“None worth following up on. And as you know, the more time goes by, the lower the odds of clearing a case.”
“Tell me about them,” said Decker.
At that moment Lassiter came out of the house and motioned to Green. “Marty, can you come and eyeball something?”
Green looked across the yard at her. “What is it?”
Lassiter glanced at Decker. “I don’t want to say in front of unauthorized persons.”
Green turned to him. “I’ll be at the station house tomorrow morning. It’s on Baron Boulevard. If you want to stop by.”
“Baron again,” noted Decker.
“You stay here long enough you’ll be thoroughly sick of the name Baron,” said Green.
“Are there any Barons left here?” asked Jamison.
“One,” said Green. He trudged across the wet lawn toward Lassiter.
Jamison whirled on Decker. “I can’t believe you’re in the middle of another murder investigation. Back in D.C. you were an eyewitness to one. On Pennsylvania Avenue no less. Now here in the commonwealth of Pennsylvania you find two bodies.”
“And since I’m here the least I can do is try to find who killed them.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of it?” asked Jamison wearily.
“It’s what I do. If I didn’t have this, I’d have nothing.”
“Oh, if only more people could realize happiness through homicide,” snapped Jamison.
“Alex, you’re sounding punchy.”
“I am punchy! But it doesn’t look like they’re going to let you work on the case. You heard Lassiter.”
“And I also heard her partner. He wants help, even if she doesn’t.”
“But they may not let us work on the case,” pointed out Jamison.
“If they’ve had multiple murders here they could use some help.”
“You better not call Bogart and ask him to intervene on this.”
Decker looked at her appraisingly. “But if you called him?”
“Oh, no, you’re not putting me in the middle of this.”
“Alex, there have been six recent unsolved murders in Baronville.”
She flushed. “I know that!”
“And your sister and her family are living here. In fact, they were right next door to these latest murders.”
Jamison’s jaw dropped. “Decker, I can’t believe you’re playing the guilt card on me.”
“People are dead, Alex.”
“And the police can find out who did it.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“Why?”
“Because Detectives Green and Lassiter apparently didn’t catch a really big inconsistency in the crime scene. I gave them the chance to comment on it, but they didn’t bite.”
“What inconsistency?”
“Just trust me on that. I’m not sure they’ll be up to the task, is all.”
Jamison started to say something, but stopped and looked in the direction of the house where the two dead men had been found. Then she glanced at her sister’s house.
She let out a long sigh. “Okay, okay,” she said miserably.
“You don’t have to do anything, Alex. Enjoy your vacation and your sister and her family and let me work the case.”
Her face turned red. “Like I’m going to let you work this alone. I can’t even believe you’d say that.”
Now Decker looked uncertain. “It’s…it’s about Zoe.”
“What about her?”
“She asked me to not let you get hurt by bad people.”
“I appreciate that, Amos, I really do. But I’m a big girl, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’ve trained at the FBI, so I’m in the best physical shape of my life. And I can handle a gun. And I’m ready to do my job.”
Decker cracked a smile.
“What?” she demanded.
“I wish I could say I was in the best physical shape of my life.”
“You were in the NFL. I doubt you’ll ever be that fit again. But don’t worry.”
“What do you mean?”
Now it was her turn to smile. “I’ll take care of you.”
Chapter 6
THIS IS CRAZY,” said Frank Mitchell.
He was sitting in his living room with Amber, Decker, and Jamison. It was after midnight and he had just arrived a few minutes earlier. He had finally called Amber back on the way home and been filled in about the murders.
Frank was about six-one, lean and muscular, with curly blond hair and long sideburns. He had on a white dress shirt open at the collar with a loosened tie around it and dark slacks. His socks drooped a bit and his black dress shoes were nicked at the toecaps.
Amber sat beside him, with Frank’s arm protectively around her.
She said, “When I saw them talk about the other murders on TV, I was stunned. Things like that aren’t supposed to happen in small towns like this. Now, I wish we’d never moved here.”
Frank looked incredulously at his wife. “I got transferred here, Am. It’s not like I had a choice.”
“What can you tell us about these other murders?” asked Decker. “You mentioned you saw them on the TV?”
Amber shrugged. “I saw a report on the local news. I really didn’t pay attention to the details, just that some people had been murdered and the police were investigating. And then I turned off the TV because Zoe came into the room.”
Frank slid off his tie, tossed it on the coffee table, and rubbed his neck. He smiled ruefully. “I’m still not used to dressing up for work.” He sat back. “Like I said, I could either take this job or keep working the line back in Kentucky.” He glanced at Decker. “I used to work retail before getting into fulfillment centers. But shopping malls are going down the tubes because everyone wants to buy online. I never finished my college degree. So here I am.”
“Your mom got sick and you left school to help out at home, sweetie. And you’re working hard and moving up in the company,” added Amber encouragingly.
Frank smiled weakly and patted her arm. “Yeah, well, anyway, Baronville is it, at least for a while. The job pays almost double what I was making and the benefits are a lot better. And it’s really cheap to live here. It’s why they don’t build many fulfillment centers in or around big cities. Land and everything else is too expensive.”
“Well, areas like this can certainly use the jobs,” pointed out Jamison.
“Problem is, we can’t fill all our positions.”
“Why not?” asked Jamison. “You’d think people would be banging down the door to get jobs there.”
“They are. But they can’t pass a drug test,” said Frank. “We’re starting to recruit from other parts of the state, and even across the border in Ohio.”
Amber said, “We better get to bed. Frank’s been working all day
and I know he must be exhausted. Did you get some dinner, hon?”
“They ordered in pizza. I’m good.” He glanced at Decker and Jamison and smiled shyly. “It’s good to see you again, Alex. And it’s nice to meet you, Amos. I sure wish your visit didn’t have to have this awful thing connected to it.”
Decker looked at him. “I know the police already talked to Amber. But did you ever see anyone in the house behind you?”
Frank thought about this. “No, not really. I moved here several months before Amber and Zoe, to get acclimated, learn my job, and set up the house and all. I leave early in the morning and get home pretty late at night. That’s the way it’ll be for a while. It’s a big learning curve for me now that I’m in management. I’ve got to put in the extra time.”
“You never saw anyone in the backyard there? Or at the window or back door?
Frank shook his head and glanced at Amber. She said, “I’ve never really even been out in the backyard. There’s too much to do inside. Heck, I’m still unpacking moving boxes. That’s the same thing I told the police.”
“How did the people die?” asked Frank.
“The police aren’t sure yet,” said Decker.
“But you found the bodies,” said Amber. “You must have some idea of how they died.”
“I do. But it’s not something I can share with you.”
When Amber looked confused, her sister quickly said, “We might be assisting with the case. So we really can’t talk about it.”
“Assisting with the case! But I thought you were on vacation.”
Jamison glanced sharply at Decker before answering her sister. “So did I. But apparently murder doesn’t keep to a schedule. At least my schedule.”
Amber involuntarily shivered. “My God. I still can’t believe it. A murder right in our backyard, so to speak.” She gazed at Decker. “I guess you must be used to this sort of thing.”
Decker looked back at her. “You guessed wrong.” He glanced at Jamison. “Up for a short ride?”
She stared at him dumbly but nodded resignedly.
* * *
Their vehicle was a rental, principally because Jamison’s own car was a subcompact, which would have required Decker to bend his big body nearly in half to get in. And for such a long road trip, that was not a welcome prospect.
The Fallen Page 3