by Unknown
“That’s enough, Arnie,” Joni put in sharply.
Keira filed the exchange away to be examined later. “As sheriff of this county all law enforcement decisions in these matters are mine to make. I can pay the bills for this investigation through my personal account. That would have been my preference. Funneling them through the county isn’t a necessity; it just makes things neater when it comes time to prosecute.”
Rick Enabnit spoke for the first time. He’d been a friend of Phil’s, Danny’s and of Doc’s, the fourth in the poker group who played together most Tuesday nights. Seeing the fresh grief in his eyes made Keira’s burn. “We don’t have the authority to second-guess the sheriff and Keira isn’t asking for much. Given the situation, I think it’s the least we can do to provide what support we can. I move that we deposit a personal check from Keira Saxon and use it to pay any and all bills for the private forensics firm she’s hired.”
After a moment’s pause, Dailey said, “We have a motion on the table. All in favor…
_______
Keira finished going over the interviews from the four they’d arrested at Bielefeld’s yesterday, and squelched an urge to check the clock again. It sure as hell didn’t make the time go faster. And it didn’t make it any easier to resist the temptation to text Finn for an update. The test results took as long as they took. She was grateful they’d be available after a matter of hours, instead of days.
She turned her attention then to the missing persons reports. The deputies were whittling down the names, but there were still a lot of possibilities. If lab tests didn’t come up with something definitive that would help them focus the list further, she’d start calling the case detectives herself. With the board meeting behind her, she’d have more…
There was a knock at the door and Phil stepped in. “I see you survived the board meeting. Still have an ass, or did Hassert chew it off?”
In answer she lifted a hip off the chair to show him that her butt was intact. “His teeth aren’t that sharp. But I am glad it’s over.”
The older man pulled up a chair and sat. “Saw the press release. It won’t satisfy Stella for long. She’ll be in sniffing for more, mark my words.”
The first thing Keira had done when she got to the office was to write up a carefully worded statement for the media. She knew Phil was right. Stella Cummings, the local paper’s owner and main reporter, would certainly be hounding her for more details. They’d be forthcoming only when Keira deemed necessary. “I can handle her.”
The man's expression was dour. “Woman’s like a bloodhound on the scent for news, with a face to match.”
She stifled a smile. There was no love lost between the undersheriff and Stella Cummings since the woman had a habit of misquoting him on the rare occasions he was forced to speak to her in an official capacity. For all the reporter’s faults, she was good—too good—at her job, so Keira suspected the errors were purposeful. She’d often wondered if the two had a history, although she knew better than to ask the man.
There was another question she could put to him. “Do you know the source of Hassert’s antagonism toward Danny?” Because it had started with her father, she realized that much. After she’d accepted the position, it had been transferred to her.
“Oh shit.” Phil settled more comfortably in his seat, his angular face set in contemplative lines. “That goes way back. To before the little weasel became a commissioner. Let’s see.” He took a moment to remember. “Seems to me he was making some sort of complaint about his neighbor running trap lines on his property without permission.”
Keira frowned. “That’s a Department of Natural Resources matter, not ours.”
The man held up a hand. “I said it started there. DNR got involved and whatever the outcome Arnie wasn’t happy so he started making calls on the neighbor constantly. Accusing him of illegal burns, littering, stealing the newspaper out of his mailbox, petty crap. Danny finally sat the two of them down in an attempt to work things out, but Hassert accused him of not doing his job, favoring the neighbor, whatever. That had to have been a good ten years ago. The man knows how to hang onto a grudge.”
An imperceptible chill worked over her skin. Not every grudge resulted in an arrest. She’d said as much to Finn earlier. How many people were out there harboring an imagined slight? People who wouldn’t show up on that list she’d compiled for Finn.
She said as much to Phil and he lifted a shoulder. “Hell, no one could know that. And it’s not enough to have wished Danny ill, how many had the means and opportunity to go through with it?”
Recalling something that Hassert had said that morning, she asked, “Were you interested in becoming sheriff?”
Phil shook his head. “I’m too damn old. Older than your dad, and he was planning to retire at the end of his term.” Her expression must have alerted him. “You didn’t know?”
Slowly, Keira shook her head. “He hadn’t mentioned it.” Maybe because dealing with his cancer diagnosis had pushed all other thoughts out of his head. Or because of the half-formed fear that planning for the future was a waste of time. “Arnie said they had someone qualified who was willing to apply.”
“None more qualified than you.” Under her steady gaze he admitted, “Likely he was talking about Hank. Hassert is full of shit, as usual, though, because Hank wasn’t pushing for the job. You made it clear from the get-go that you were only going to fill the remainder of Danny’s time.”
She was learning all sorts of things today. Hank Fallon, as sheriff. Considering the idea, Keira couldn’t fault the man for his ambition. He was a damn fine investigator and a seasoned deputy. Alger County would be lucky to have him. “He’ll get his chance.” She had a little over a year left in the position. And though she hadn’t yet decided where she’d go from here, she knew she’d be leaving.
Phil gave a slow nod, the bald spot on top of his head glinting under the overhead light. “You’re not long for this area. Knew that when you took the job, even before you told the committee the same thing. Your talents are wasted here. You just need to figure out your next step. Give yourself time to heal.”
“Finding Dad’s killer will go a long way in the healing process.”
He surprised her by shaking his head. “You think so, but it won’t. I want to catch the bastard as much as you, and yeah, there will be satisfaction in having him behind bars. But Danny will still be gone. And the only thing that will cure that loss is time.”
Sound filtered freely through the door. She could hear the normal noises of the office, with phones ringing, people talking and the sound of heels clicking on the tile floor. They’d belong to Pammy. She ignored it all. Phil Milestone was a reticent man. These past few minutes he’d been positively verbose. The opportunity shouldn’t be wasted. “Is that why you were against me hiring Raiker Forensics in this case?”
He shifted in his chair, looked away. For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. When he did his voice was reflective. “It wasn’t just MSP on that crime scene. Multiple agencies were represented, and most of us from the department took part in the search. Whatever the state police missed, well, we did, too. We all bear responsibility for that, and it weighs heavy sometimes. But the inferences drawn were understandable. I’ve been all around it, every which way and I wouldn’t have come to a different conclusion on my own. So, no, I wouldn’t have excluded MSP based on the past. And I don’t think your father would have wanted you to spend the life insurance money he left you on this investigation.”
She smiled wryly. “Probably not. But I can’t afford mistakes this time around. The killer has claimed at least two victims. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure there isn’t a third.”
As if he’d run out of his allotted reservoir of words for the day, the man only inclined his head before rising to leave. She didn’t fool herself into believing that the gesture indicated agreement. Just that the conversation was over.
As the door shu
t quietly behind Phil, she checked the time again, and after waging a short inner war gave in and pulled out her cell. It rang in her hand.
Finn Carstens. Trying and failing to squelch the leap of her pulse she answered on the first ring. “Although I was just about to reach out and nag you, the fact that you called first means I didn’t get pushy.”
“Duly noted.” She could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “There’s a small space at the back of the lab that serves as an office. How soon can you get here? I have preliminary results.”
_______
Keira didn’t break sound barriers getting to the county garage, but she did use the light bar on the vehicle and ignore all posted speed limits. She hurried across the lot and into the structure, almost as anxious to get out of the wind as she was to hear what Finn had to say.
Her steps slowed as she walked into the bay where he had the lab stored. He was leaning against the outside of it looking every bit as tired as he’d sounded on the phone. His streaky brown hair was mussed as if he’d run his hands through it, although she doubted he had. He’d be much too worried about contamination. A day’s beard covered his jaw and a woman would have to be dead not to recognize how good it looked on him.
Keira still had a pulse. But at the moment she was more cop than female. “Tell me you found something we can use.”
He pushed away from the side of the RV with a lazy grace that had heat pooling in her belly. “And here I thought your eagerness just meant you missed me.”
Her lips curved. “I’d miss a guy with answers a lot more.”
“You did miss me then. Because I’ve got answers.” He turned away to open a door near the rear of the lab. “Probably more questions, but we have a direction.”
She followed him into the vehicle and looked around. The original use of the area had likely been a bedroom, but it was outfitted with a table, a few chairs, and a screen. There was a door that would lead to the lab itself, but it was closed.
A laptop sat on the table with a sheaf of papers next to it. “I’ve got all the results on the computer, but I ran hard copies for you.” He slid the pile of papers over to her. “Here’s the short version.” Pressing a command on the keyboard had images appearing on the wall screen. “Congratulations to whoever took the snow cast of the footprints from when you were attacked. That can be a tricky test, but it gave us a great basis for comparison.”
She leaned forward, anxious for the next image. “To…”
“To this.” The next picture showed a perfect imprint taken with the EDL. He’d lifted impressions on the floor beneath the broken window at her house and again at the back door. “After a careful examination of the tread captured with the snow cast and the footwear impression caught with the EDL, I’m satisfied that the same footwear was worn in both.” He brought up the next picture, which had an area on the inner sole enlarged. “I didn’t find any individual characteristics, but the signs of wear on the tread will be unique to the individual.”
Excitement flickered in her veins. They’d have to make an arrest before they could search for the footwear in question, but if they found it the evidence would be damning indeed. “We can input this information into the FBI’s Footwear and Tire Tread database.” The system had vast amounts of manufacturer information. They might even get the brand of footwear, which could prove more valuable to them in a town this size than in a city the size of Chicago, where stores were limitless. Unless, of course, the buyer had purchased them online.
He gave her a tired smile. “Already done. And I also submitted it to the forensic database at the National Institute of Justice. But I’ve got something better. The EDL also picked up trace amounts of animal feces. Scat, not manure. The molecular content shows it came from a meat eating animal rather than a domestic or farm animal.”
Keira stared hard at him, mind racing. “So…wildlife. With all the forest in the county, we’ve got plenty of that.” There was a sick stirring in her belly. There had been no lack of wild animals in the vicinity where her dad had been found. She took a breath, forced aside the memory. “Plenty of residents hunt, fish or trap in the area. And we don’t always have to go to the wildlife. Sometimes they come to us. Remember the moose?”
His smile flickered. “I do. It doesn’t tell us much, but it’s something. So is this.”
The screen filled with an eye-popping color-coded chart that she could make no sense of at all. “The DNA analysis. When I conducted the tests the first time, I only ran comparisons on the liver and the finger long enough to determine they weren’t a match. Last night I did a full analysis on the finger and then another on the ear your intruder gifted you with. Not only did they match on all markers,” Finn picked up a laser pointed and highlighted several columns on the chart, “but I discovered the ethnicity of the victim is primarily Native American.” He cocked a brow at Keira. “Not sure how many on your missing persons list would fit that description.”
“I don’t recall that information being included for any of them, but I’d have to double-check.” There were a dozen Native American tribes represented on the Upper Peninsula and a handful of reservations. A buzz of adrenaline started in her veins. The victim deserved justice. So did her father. And this just might be the first real step toward getting it. “As we noted before, we could be dealing with someone no one has missed yet, and he isn’t in the database.” She looked at Finn, noting his drawn expression. Despite what he’d told her last night, it was clear he’d gotten no sleep at all, and she felt a flicker of sympathy. So far his room at Turner’s Landing had gone unused. Hopefully, tonight would be different.
“There’s more.” He flipped through images on the screen until he came to one showing a close up of the ear that had been put in Keira’s refrigerator. “I told you that it had been severed post-mortem. But the lobe—,” he switched to the next image which showed that area magnified—“had been cut off shortly before death.” He saw her open her mouth and beat her to the punch. “And yes, it’s statistically probable that the same weapon was used on the ear and the lobe, but not the liver or the finger. A much thinner blade was used for those.”
“So cutting off the lobe could have been torture, Keira said slowly. “Or the killer might have been trying to hide something. An identifying mark, maybe?”
“Give the lady a gold star.” Finn brought the next image up and Keira leaned closer to peer at it. “There was some sort of old trauma to the earlobe, and the killer didn’t quite get all of it cut away. Some of the scar tissue remained. There was evidence of long-term healing, so it wasn’t inflicted by the killer.” He sat back, a satisfied expression on his face. “Identifying marks are routinely included in missing persons reports.”
“And none of the ones on our list includes a descriptor like this.” That didn’t necessarily eliminate the ones they’d been looking at. The reports were only as complete as the information given to the case detective. They couldn’t afford to overlook anyone on their narrowing list.
But she was already planning to expand on it.
“Thank you.” Genuine gratitude laced her voice. “I know what it cost you to get all this done so quickly.”
He worked his shoulders tiredly. “As much as I enjoy having you indebted to me, it’s sort of why I’m here. I still need to run the analysis on the hair found in the window at your place. Didn’t have time.”
“It can wait.”
Nodding, he said, “It’ll have to. Because I’m heading to my room to shower and shave. Maybe the Turners will show enough pity to feed me. I’ll be in after that.”
Although he needed sleep, as well, she knew better than to argue with him. Picking up the sheaf of papers, she flipped through the pages, gratified to see he’d included copies of the images he’d shared. Then froze when she recalled something.
“What?”
She hesitated, feeling a bit like a traitor. “I’m sure it’s nothing. But given the conversation you had with Wilson…” She paused, already s
econd-guessing her intentions.
His expression was alert. “Someone else with a grudge?”
“No.” She was certain of that. “But I found out today that my investigator was interested in my position.”
He studied her for a minute from his seat. “But he didn’t run against you?”
She shook her head. “There wasn’t an election because Dad had been more than halfway through the term. The committee took applications, though. They seemed to have their mind set on me. It likely means nothing. I trust Hank Fallon, and so does Phil. Dad’s death didn’t benefit him in any way.”
“Thanks for telling me.”
The polite tone didn’t make his words any less cryptic.
“You agree about the lack of motive, right?” When Finn didn’t immediately reply she propped her fists on the table and leaned down. “It makes no sense.”
“Probably not.” He tried and failed to suppress a yawn. “But he goes on the list because we don’t take anything for granted. We can’t afford to.”
After a moment she gave a jerky nod and straightened. She had to trust Finn to handle any further digging required with discretion. Because he was right about one thing. They couldn’t afford to overlook anything. Or anyone.
_______
Keira composed an inquiry to send out to the area Tribal Police concerning the identity of a missing Native American with a damaged left earlobe. After doing so, she considered for a moment before including the rest of the state and Wisconsin in her query. Then she went to the chart on the conference room wall again and studied it. All of the males on the list they’d put together had racial descriptors. As she’d told Finn, none was listed as Native American. But she knew that not everyone identified with their ethnicity, especially if they had mixed blood. She pored over the photographs of the recent missing persons, looking for a distinguishing mark like the one Finn had uncovered. When the picture wasn’t clear enough to eliminate him completely, she contacted the case detective.