Chapter 32
Dave
Sitting in his patrol car early Sunday morning, Dave was torn between waiting for Sarah to call him back or driving over to her house. He had tried to call her several times without success. His last attempts went directly to voicemail. She had never invited him to her home—or anyone else he knew of for that matter. She was a very private person. He questioned whether he should respect that. Maybe she’s still sleeping, he pondered. She’s had a couple long, physical days. Or maybe she had enough of me for one weekend. Could she be hiding something?
The investigative nature in him continued to question information he found which linked Sarah to both of the dead search subjects. Why didn’t she say she knew both victims? Could she somehow be tied to all of this? Could she be in danger?
Dave had checked with the state lab last evening after he had gotten to the office for updates. They were still waiting for the DNA results to come back. Hopefully they would have results, if not this morning, at least by sometime today. It was possible to get two-day results if they were hustled to the front of the line. He knew the samples had been driven directly to the lab and the FBI was putting the pressure on. But even then, if the DNA results were in, they would still need to be entered into the databases and go through proper protocol.
His cell phone pinged with a text. He pulled it from his pants pocket. It was a notification from his contact at the lab stating the DNA samples were now currently being processed but that’s all he knew for the moment. Perfect. Now that the agencies believed they had a possible serial killer on the loose and the FBI was getting involved, it gave more leverage to get the results tested and findings as soon as possible. Heavy-handed pressure always got results. His contact promised to text him with the results as soon as they were able.
Still holding his cell phone, Dave decided he couldn’t wait and pressed the lab contact’s name. It brought up the phone number and connected him directly. There was other information he was after at the moment that his contact could help him with.
“Hey,” Dave started, “can you pull up the autopsy reports from the ME’s office and see if there is any information from them yet?”
“Sure thing, just give me a minute.”
Dave waited patiently as he listened to his contact tap on his keyboard, clicking through the links to get into the requested reports.
“Anything?” Dave asked.
“Okay, here we go. Looks like they have most of the autopsy finished on the first victim—Brickner—the older man who they pulled from the lake. Only toxicology hasn’t come back and that might take weeks.”
“So what are the findings?”
“Well, hang on a sec. Let me read through a bit.”
Dave sat silently on the line, jaw clenched in anticipation. Waiting. Impatiently. He stretched his legs. He changed his position. Mentally pacing while trying to remain seated. He tried to be polite but he was having a difficult time. He wanted answers now.
“Okay,” the contact began again, “contusions to the forehead, back of the head and temple. Bruising on the upper torso as well.”
“Like he was hit with something?” Dave replied.
“Well, yeah. Either that or he fell and hit his head in the boat. But they didn’t find any blood within the boat and it appears that he was hit at least three times. The only blood they found was connected to the extra body part in the plastic baggy—but that didn’t belong to him. Comments from the ME say it appears to be contusions from some sort of a wide source.”
“Wide source?”
“Yeah, like possibly a paddle from a boat. They’re ruling it a homicide. ME’s report states ‘blunt force trauma,’ says he was hit several times in the head with great force.” He re-read the information for Dave’s benefit. “That he was also alive when he entered the water. Most likely, he was unconscious per the information stated on the report.”
“Any word on the second subject?”
“Well, their report is not complete, but they are stating that the organ found on the boat belongs to the second victim—due to several observations including size of incision on subject matching up with size of what was found and more.” The lab contact gasped as he read on. “Oh my god!”
“What? What else?”
“The ME is stating that the victim was apparently still alive when his penis and testicles were removed. His throat was cut from ear to ear with what could have been something thin and sharp such as a piece of piano wire. He had apparently finished bleeding out when his organ was cut from his body, dying most likely within seconds of both wounds.”
“Ouch,” was all Dave could say as he sat in his cruiser and absentmindedly squeezed his legs together. What people did to each other never ceased to amaze him. The truth is always stranger than fiction.
“Great, thanks for the update. Any word if the DNA has come back?” Dave continued to push for more details.
His contact was beginning to lose patience. He had given him all the information he had.
“Too early in the morning, like I already told you.” He started to sound exasperated on the other end of the line.
“I owe you, appreciate it, but I really need to know this information.”
“Well, wait a minute. I’m going to email you what I have so far regarding the ME’s reports and then I’ll check to see if the DNA info has come in.”
“Okay, sounds like a plan.” Dave flipped through his paperwork and kept an ear tuned into his police scanner in case he got a call.
“Well this is interesting,” the contact started, “seems like whatever results that were found in the DNA lab is labeled confidential and the file is locked. I can’t access it at my level of security.”
“Hunh, that’s strange.”
“Well, I can’t access them,” he repeated. “You’ll have to speak with the supervisor in charge of the lab to find out what’s going on.”
“Awesome, you’ve been a big help. Appreciate it. Call me if you find out anything new.”
“Will do.”
Dave hung up. The drowned subject was definitely murdered, he contemplated. Aside from both being connected to the foster home, I wonder how these two are tied in this together? How? Someone had to be on the lake in the early morning hours, before the light of dawn to take him out. But who? And why? Does Sarah have anything to do with this? He couldn’t help but feel as though she was somehow tied to the murders.
Why would the records regarding the DNA be secured? There’s more to this case than I’m privileged to, apparently.
Later today, he would be meeting with an agent from the FBI. He wanted to make sure he had all of his reports and information as complete as possible. Turning one of the copied court reports over, he jotted down a few more notes on the back regarding specific aspects he wanted to check into. He hoped he could get ahold of Sarah before he met with the agent, though. Give her the chance to explain herself prior to him turning over all of the material he had found last night. Maybe it would at least help Dave to understand. He wanted Sarah not to be involved in any of this mess… he hoped there was a good explanation.
Dispatch came across his radio. Dave pushed his paperwork across to the passenger seat. “Trooper 17, we have a possible 2502 and 3301. Stand by for location.”
“Standing by,” Dave replied to dispatch.
“Okay, 17, location in Penn Township, Hanover, 372 Howard Lane.”
It took Dave a moment to digest the address. When he connected the information dispatch was reading over the radio, he was dumbfounded, puzzled. “372 Howard Lane? Are you sure?” Dave repeated.
“That’s correct,” dispatch reported. “Fire under control, body found by firemen. Death is suspicious as well as the fire.”
“Copy, on my way, ETA five minutes.”
“Ten-four, Trooper 17 in-route to 372 Howard Lane, arrival time 0938.”
The location of the fire and possible murder victim was the drowned vic’s address. The foster
parent’s home. The same address the subject of the wilderness search had lived at as a teenager. Another dead body? It was also the same address where Sarah had lived as a foster child—which Dave had uncovered in his research last night. Dave was finding it harder and harder to believe the circumstances could be just a coincidence. Another victim?
He placed a call to his lieutenant. He needed to fill her in on some of the odd occurrences surrounding the murders… but he left Sarah’s name out of it. Something he might have to answer for later. Something that might cost him quite a bit later.
Chapter 33
Dave
“Hang on, Bella. Going to be lighting up, running hot,” Dave said referring to switching on the SUV’s alarms and lights.
Dave heard her change position in her dog box behind him. She knew how to brace herself for the ride. They had only been together for a few months and already had a private language between them. They understood each other. Dave had heeded much of the advice he had gotten from Sarah regarding dogs and dog language.
Dave buckled his seatbelt. Turning his sirens and flashing lights on, he took off out of the parking lot, spitting gravel and dirt from his rear tires. Traffic immediately stopped or pulled to the right to let him by. Bella began to howl. Every time Dave hit the sirens, she would cut loose with a deep, forlorn, heart-wrenching wail. It tickled Dave and made him smile. Normally he would laugh or comment to Bella on her off-key vocal abilities. But today his mind was still trying to take in the circumstances. He had been dispatched to the foster family’s address that belonged to the drowned subject, and the wilderness search subject… and where Sarah had spent most of her younger years.
Not needing to use the navigational system, Dave was able to pilot his vehicle mostly from memory. Between knowing some of the area and looking at the neighborhood layout on a satellite map last evening, he knew most of the street arrangements. Working on his research last night, he had brought the address up on the computer, giving him an overhead view of the neighborhood and surrounding locality.
The distance between the community where the foster home was located to Sarah’s current house was in close proximity to Codorus State Park and Lake Marburg. Sarah never mentioned that she had ever lived close to the park when she was younger. Another red flag? He knew where she lived now was close enough to walk to the lake if you were in good physical shape and really wanted to. But that doesn’t mean anything. Does it? He contemplated. She never mentioned this information? Maybe it’s just a coincidence. But he knew better. His intuition was telling him she was entangled with the whole situation, but that was all it was telling him. Somehow Sarah was tied to the people from the foster home in more ways than she led on. Somehow she’s involved. He just knew it. But how?
Whizzing past several Sunday morning church goers, he paid close attention. Many drivers were older and reacted slower to the blaring sirens. They didn’t move over as quickly. Other drivers just stopped directly in front of him. “Move, dammit!” Dave shouted to no one in particular as the frustration and confusion continued to play out in his head. He couldn’t clear his mind. He was fixated on trying to figure out how Sarah fit into the puzzle.
Paying attention to the main roads and street signs, he made his way across the county toward the address on Howard Lane. He had been back in this area for domestic calls, but it had been quite a while ago. He recalled details from the map regarding exactly how the section was laid out. From a few streets away, he could already see police and fire activity and drove toward it.
Pulling up on a curb a few houses away from the burned house, Dave stopped abruptly. He parked the SUV partway on the street and partway on the cracked sidewalk. He heard the bloodhound scramble in her crate.
“Sorry, Bella,” he apologized to the dog.
Lowering the windows he made sure there would be good air flow inside the vehicle. He turned to look back at the dog crate to make sure Bella was okay. Once he was satisfied that all looked right, Dave stepped out of the patrol unit and locked the doors. He stood on the curb for a moment beside his vehicle. The street was jammed with firetruck apparatus and firefighters. With the area teaming with activity and commotion in all directions, it looked like a major cluster. A few officers from the local township PD were on hand to control traffic and the growing crowd of bystanders. Everyone wanted a front row seat so they could gawk at the attraction.
Dave looked around. He knew from prior calls that this wasn’t a good neighborhood. Besides the domestic violence calls, the area was known for drugs, petty crimes and shootings. Most of the houses were decrepit and in complete disrepair. He tried to imagine Sarah growing up in a place like this. What she would’ve had to put up with, what she might’ve experienced or been exposed to… living here… in these conditions. Maybe this was why she kept her past close and didn’t share. Something she’s not proud of, I’m sure. But it wasn’t her choice by any means.
Miscellaneous trash and old newspapers littered the streets. Lawns were non-existent. Bald and patchy spots greeted the front of most of the homes. Some residents parked their vehicles where the grass should’ve been. Not a care given for appearance or sanitation.
Dave observed the burned-out house. Small whiffs of smoke still emitted from the home. It was obvious the fire had only recently been put out. He walked up to the first firetruck he encountered. It was parked at a 45-degree angle directly in front of the affected house. Firefighters worked to drain, roll-up and replace hoses and other equipment into compartments along the side of the enormous truck. The engine still running, it vibrated the ground and anything around it.
Dave could see the fire chief standing in the front yard of the still smoldering structure. He was in an animated conversation on his cell phone. Spires of white smoke rose where the fire had been most intense. Dave patiently waited for the chief to finish and took in the complete scene as he stood there. The yard was mainly mud around the burned out structure from the fire being doused. The main beams and support walls of the home still stood, but the house was destroyed from the inside out and would most likely be condemned.
“Oh, hey there, Trooper Graves,” the fire chief yelled to him as he shoved his phone into a holster. The truck’s diesel engine made it difficult to hear over the noise. Dave waved to him to let him know he heard him and headed over to where the chief stood.
“I’ve been waiting on you guys. We got ourselves a deceased subject in the house here,” the fire chief said in his heavy western Pennsylvania English. “She’s only medium rare, not crispy. Someone got to her before the smoke and fire. There wasn’t much fire in the area of the house where she was found. The fire had just started to spread out in that portion of the home.”
Dave just looked at the fire chief with a vacant expression. He didn’t appreciate the dark humor. He knew that every agency dealt with death in their individual way, but he found the fire chief’s comments to be crude. “I was told your agency believes it’s a murder? Can you give me some details surrounding the suspicious fire and the subject you found?”
“Well, the calls started to come in to dispatch about forty-five minutes ago. The next door neighbor was the first to call it in. She didn’t know if anyone was home at the time. The woman who lives here doesn’t have a car of her own or drive. Her husband left a few days ago with his pickup truck towing his boat really early in the morning and she hadn’t seen him since. The neighbor woman’s a real nosey one. Ya know the kind. Sometimes good to have around, they notice everything. She said the house was full of dark smoke and it went up in flames real quick like. Usually you will see that with an accelerant. We found a few areas where the floorboards are pretty well burned in a pattern as well.” He continued to describe what they found within the house once the firefighters had made entry.
“Was there anything else specifically that was found that might make the fire seem suspicious?”
The fire chief raised his hand to Dave and turned to one of his teams. He spouted of
f a few instructions to the crew. “Sorry, couple rookies that I need to keep straight. Oh yeah, we also found an empty gas container at the bottom of the back steps. It looks like it was just thrown out the door—like it wasn’t set down nowhere near where a gas container would normally be stored.”
“Okay.” Dave had his notepad out. He was scribbling notes as the fire chief detailed what they had found and what they knew about the scene. It was too hot yet to enter the house while it was still smoldering. He would have to wait a while prior to gaining access. It would have to cool down before he could view the body and look at the questionable findings. So Dave was in no hurry and took his time interviewing the fire chief.
“Well, we get here on scene and make entrance to the house by way of the front door. Flames had burned through the living room and front bedrooms quick. The whole front of the house is pretty well charred, while the back of the house is burned, but still pretty much intact. Another indication that someone used an accelerant thinking they could pour it in just one room and it would take care of the whole house. No, no, doesn’t work that way.”
“So where was the body found and why do you think it’s a homicide?”
“Well, as my firefighters moved through the house checking for anyone who may still be in the there, they found this old woman. She was sitting at the kitchen table. Just sitting there upright leaning back in the chair. Even though it was smoky and difficult to see, when they went to check her pulse, their head lamps shown across her neck. There was no mistaking. Her throat had been slit. Her head was leaning way back over the chair and her throat was wide open. They left her in place since she was already dead.”
Payback (The Canine Handler Book 1) Page 20