But now, as burgers sizzled on the grill and his mother was doing her best imitation of being at the beach, splayed out in a lounge chair next to his brother with Josh and Rocky playing in front of them, Hallett felt like he had turned a corner in his life. Maybe it was the sense of redemption at having finally nailed Arnold Ludner. His life had a rhythm now. Simple tasks added to the feeling. Early this morning, Hallett had systematically taken each of the animals in his menagerie and let them out of their cages. Josh treated it like a solemn duty to exercise each animal as best he could. Albert the alpaca was the only one who proved to be difficult, when he spit on the shirt Hallett had worn to church.
The two new additions, Sponge and Bob, the yappy poodles, had seemed to take on the role of assistant zookeepers with Rocky. They herded the animals that wanted to stray.
Hallett wouldn’t have thought herding was an instinct in the poodles’ DNA.
Fall had finally started to settle into the communities around Lake Okeechobee, and the property surrounding his trailer behind the city’s largest Christian school was a comfortable seventy-four degrees.
He carried a platter of hamburgers over to his mother and brother like a waiter at a ritzy oceanfront resort. He grabbed a burger for himself and plopped into the chair next to his mother.
She said, “It’s nice to see you having such a good time. You work so hard, I’m afraid you’re missing out on life.”
“I like my job, Mom. That’s part of life.”
“It’s not too often I get to read about your work in the newspaper anymore. I cut out both the articles and showed them to all the neighbors.”
Hallett had been impressed with Ruben Vasquez’s ability to plant a detailed media story about how the Canine Assist Team had helped in solving one of the county’s most notorious crimes. He didn’t mind admitting that he enjoyed the recognition for the unit, too. There was even an article that referred to their efforts as heroic. It was rare to see a modern newspaper latch on to such a complimentary term in regard to police work. He was still assigned to the detective bureau with the other members of the squad but figured this week would be a cakewalk as he transitioned back to his regular patrol duties.
His brother, Bobby, said, “You and Rocky both looked pretty sharp standing in the background.”
Hallett let the dig slide.
His mother said, “Are you sure that awful Arnold Ludner did it? I mean, will you be able to convict him?”
“He’s being held on the meth charges now while homicide tries to piece together the case. They probably wouldn’t have mentioned his name if they didn’t have something already. I know his wife isn’t able to give him an alibi for the times that Katie Ziegler was assaulted and Tina Tictin disappeared. He supposedly has some kind of job, but he wasn’t at work either of those days. His sons swear that he was at the little compound in Fruity Acres all of the time.”
Bobby said, “If he’s a registered sexual predator, why was he so hard to find?”
“His son, the attorney, says he was afraid of being tortured again by the sheriff’s office.” He had to use air quotes for the word “tortured.”
His mother muttered, “Bullshit.”
He nodded his head in agreement and said, “I don’t think that bully is getting his way this time. He can’t do much. Both of his brothers and his father were caught with a decent amount of meth being made in their bathtub, although he already got his two brothers out on bond. We got a favorable judge who’s giving us the benefit of the doubt while homicide tries to put the case together. We’ve got time.”
His mother said, “I keep seeing that nice-looking John Fusco on TV.”
“Technically, he’s still the lead detective on the kidnappings, but homicide has effectively frozen him out of any of their forensic information. I’m glad Rocky and I aren’t involved in any of those kinds of politics anymore.”
Bobby, looking at his nephew and Rocky, said, “I’m glad Rocky doesn’t alert on me all the time anymore.” He turned to Hallett. “I really listened to you about the pot.”
Hallett sat straight, stunned by this revelation. “You quit smoking pot?”
Bobby shook his head. “No way, man. I showered and put on fresh clothes before we drove out.”
Hallett shook his head as he settled back into his chair and watched while Josh stretched out in the lush grass and played some silent game with Rocky, touching his tiny hands to Rocky’s paws. The dog looked just as happy as Hallett.
* * *
Even though there was no game going on with Tim and they weren’t chasing bad people, Rocky liked times like this at their house with all the animals. The other people Tim liked were with him, the female and the man who usually smelled like the game Rocky played. But more importantly, Josh was there. Josh liked to play with the two little dogs and Rocky, but if Rocky had to check the fences or investigate a rabbit, he felt comfortable leaving Josh with the two little dogs. They might not be able to protect Tim or Josh, but they could sure make enough noise to attract Rocky’s attention if there was a problem.
Tim stood up from the other people and walked over to the animal pens, and Rocky followed him and walked right next to him as he stopped and gave food to each of the animals. The birds and rabbit rarely acknowledged the food, but often the big white thing with a long neck would eat right out of Tim’s hand. Although it never seemed happy to be fed and often made hissing sounds at Rocky.
When Tim was done feeding animals, Rocky jogged along the fence line the way he did every night, even though it was the middle of the day. He didn’t understand why he felt the need to do it no matter what time he entered the animal pens. He just went with the feeling.
The property was safe and everything was in order, so Rocky walked back over to where Tim and the other people were eating. He walked between the two little dogs—which by now had exhausted themselves and flopped out under some shade—and went directly to Josh. Rocky laid down, too, while Josh played a quiet game with his front paws.
Rocky knew this felt nice.
* * *
Claire sat in the detective bureau with Tim Hallett, but she was itching to get back out on the road. If they didn’t have a specific assignment, she didn’t want to waste time sitting around like a mannequin. Unless John Fusco had something he needed her for. Anything. She’d be happy to stick around. They had gone out Saturday night to a nice dinner, but he didn’t stay over or invite her to. She was very impressed that he wanted to get up early Sunday to spend time with his two daughters. He made sure every Sunday was devoted to them and almost every Wednesday night as well. He was nothing like the image the other members of CAT had of him.
John Fusco had also explained how careful he had to be working with her. He said he couldn’t permit even the appearance of favoritism. When she asked if that was why he had chosen Darren Mori to follow him into the house when they arrested the Ludner brothers, John had nodded his head. She knew there was more to his decision, but she appreciated how he treated her like everyone else at work. She didn’t know if there was a future in any kind of relationship with him, but he was smart and funny, and the only negative thing she could say was that he was a little bit in love with himself. Frankly, she understood why.
Hallett said, “Where’s Darren?”
“He had a couple of things to do and is going to meet us after lunch.”
“Have you seen Sergeant Greene around?”
Claire said, “What’re you doing, taking attendance?”
Hallett chuckled and said, “I was gonna see if the sergeant would cut us loose if she had nothing for us to do.”
“Amen to that. I’m not sure I like the atmosphere in the detective bureau right now.” As if to emphasize her point, John Fusco came banging through the front door, cursing about something. She noticed Hallett smile, seeing the detective so out of sorts. It was an infectious smile.
She knew Tim Hallett couldn’t let it pass. He said, “What’s wrong, Fusco? Is the sh
eriff going to restrict the use of hair plugs?”
Fusco scowled at the two K-9 officers. “Homicide isn’t saying shit about the Tina Tictin investigation. They’re treating me like a goddamn reporter. All they say is bland, general facts without getting into any details.”
Claire was happy that Hallett recognized the frustration Fusco was experiencing and didn’t pile on. Instead, they headed down to the parking lot to check on the dogs. Almost as soon as they were in the hallway outside the detective bureau, Lori Tate greeted them. Claire noted the warm hug and kiss she gave Hallett, who looked uncomfortable with the public display of affection.
Hallett said, “What are you doing over here?”
“The homicide detectives have us running around like crazy on some of the evidence we took from the Ludner house.”
Claire took a second to read Lori’s body language. She was completely focused on Tim Hallett, and Claire saw a chance to get some information. She said, “Find anything interesting?”
Lori hesitated.
Claire said, “We’ll keep it quiet.”
Lori still didn’t answer right away. Finally, she said, “The most interesting thing is the doormat that Darren’s dog pointed out to us. So to speak. Someone at the lab matched the sand and sediment to the same material recovered with the girl’s body the other day.”
Hallett let out a whoop and clapped his hands. “That seals it. Arnold Ludner is our man.”
Lori said, “Not so fast. I’ve heard the forensics people and the detectives going back and forth on it. They can’t say the sand comes from the gravesite, only that it is from that same canal. It has to do with the levels of phosphates and fertilizer runoff. All it means is that someone in the house had tracked a small amount of sand from that canal, which is more than a mile long.”
“It’s still decent PC.”
Lori nodded. “They’re trying to write a probable cause affidavit now. They even mention the cute Golden Retriever who alerted on the mat. He pointed them in the right direction.”
Claire said, “They’ve been busy.”
“And there’s a question about their authority to take something from the house under a probation search. But I heard the lead detective say one of the suspects gave consent.”
Hallett said, “Consent? Really? All three seemed pretty pissed off to me.”
Lori just shrugged. “No one tells me anything directly, I just hear it in the squad bay. It’s not exactly like the general detective squad, where everyone gets along so well and works together.”
Claire thought about crimes/persons and all the squabbling she had heard. She had to let out a short laugh. She wondered how people viewed the Canine Assist Team. They were a unit that really did get along well.
32
Hallett and Rocky needed to get away from the headquarters building for a few minutes and grab something to eat. As he pulled his unmarked Chevy Tahoe onto Gun Club Road, directly in front of the sheriff’s office, he noticed a gold SUV sitting in the parking lot of the Army Reserve building across the street. It immediately reminded him of the Ludner brothers’ car. Was he getting paranoid? He sure did need the training day tomorrow to break up the stress he’d experienced in the last week. The weekend with Josh, and especially the Sunday with his whole family, had gone a long way toward screwing his head on right. Seeing Lori Tate in the office this morning made him think he should’ve invited her to the cookout yesterday.
Rocky appeared content lounging in his compartment when Hallett pulled into the sub shop near the headquarters building. It was a slightly rougher part of town, and he didn’t want to make any of the patrons nervous by walking in with a fearsome-looking dog. It was bad enough wearing the black tactical vest over his black K-9 T-shirt with the image of a snarling dog and PBSO written on the sleeve.
As soon as he locked the doors and turned toward the sub shop, he was confronted by two men. It took a moment for him to realize it was the Ludner brothers.
The chubby one, Arnold Junior, said, “We gotta talk.”
Hallett noticed the absence of the third brother, the attorney. That gave him a pretty good idea this conversation was about to turn ugly. He said, “I guess you want me to kick your ass like I did your old man’s.” He just needed a quick distraction to make his move.
* * *
Claire stretched her hamstring in the courtyard of the sheriff’s office main headquarters. There was just something about the fresh air and sun filtering through the wispy clouds that pushed her out of the gym and into the empty public area. She was glad she’d skipped lunch to grab a workout. Tim Hallett constantly stressed the importance of physical fitness for a good K-9 officer. More than once, while following the progress of foot chases or searches by other K-9 officers on the radio, Claire had heard the phrase “I’m out of dog,” which meant the dog could no longer continue to search. Tim said that phrase was the biggest bunch of bullshit he’d ever heard. It was an easy excuse for an out-of-shape officer to use when he could no longer continue. It wasn’t that dogs didn’t get exhausted and have to rest, it was just that it didn’t happen as often as the handler wearing out. With a heavy tactical vest, it was already difficult to keep pace with the dogs for long. Add to that an extra twenty to forty pounds of visceral fat and an out-of-shape K-9 officer could cut the effectiveness of his dog by 80 percent.
She sat down on one of the cement benches, which were vacant during all but the coolest months in Florida. Before she noticed anyone in the area she heard, “Hey, this is a nice surprise.” She looked up at John Fusco strolling toward her from the main building. He was dressed like the typical big-shot detective. He loved his suits and being seen as having good taste and professional clothes that matched the homicide detectives, who always felt that they had to dress to rival their serious assignment. The Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Office’s homicide unit was recognized as possibly the best homicide bureau in the Southeast. They had effectively worked everything from simple drug shootings to decades-old cold case homicides.
Claire said, “I was going to find you soon.”
“Why?”
“I heard that the homicide unit is about to prepare an affidavit and charge Arnold Ludner with Tina Tictin’s death. They’re going to try to charge him while he’s still being held without bond for his scuffle with you.”
Fusco nodded his head. “No one told me, but it’s a smart move. This way they can make a big splash in the media. Credit goes a long way toward getting you resources. Homicide wants to take credit for anything connected to this case, and I don’t blame them.” He looked at Claire and said, “How’d you find out?”
She wasn’t trying to be coy, but Claire said, “I can’t reveal my sources.” She gave him a disarming shrug and smile.
“You sound like a detective already.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You’re gonna try to get into the D-bureau, right?”
She shook her head emphatically. “No. Not at all.”
“Why not?”
“I have Smarty. Together we can do things most cops only dream about.”
Fusco shook his head and said, “You don’t want to be in patrol your whole career, do you?”
“Don’t make it sound like a curse. Besides, I thought that we couldn’t see each other if I was in the detective bureau. Is this your way of trying to avoid me?”
“Sorry, I just assumed you wanted to be a detective. I thought every cop did.”
“You need to come out of your bubble sometime and look around at the real world. You don’t have to be a detective to contribute. I like K-9, especially CAT.” Claire could see how uncomfortable Fusco was and that he was trying to extricate himself from the conversation. She decided to help him out by saying, “I gotta finish up in the gym and take Smarty out for a run. I’ll talk to you later.”
As she turned, she wasn’t sure if he was relieved or sad she was leaving.
* * *
Hallett, facing the two pissed
-off drug-dealing siblings, did the one thing that usually gave thugs pause. He smiled. Just a simple, genuine-looking smile. It was an old cop trick. A smile was infinitely more unsettling than a threat. A smile indicated that the cop was not concerned in any way about what was about to happen. It hid an unimaginable potential of possibilities behind a simple facade. And it unnerved anyone who had ever been in a street fight.
The brother closer to him, Arnold Junior, noticed the smile and did a quick scan of the area to see if there was an army of backup, then shuffled away from Hallett half a step, saying, “I didn’t put the name with the face the day you stopped us. It wasn’t until after we were arrested that my dad mentioned who you were.”
Hallett kept his smile as his right hand eased toward the pistol on his hip and his left hand moved up his tactical vest to the emergency release button that opened the door to Rocky’s compartment. “How many stitches did it take to close up your arm after Rocky brought you down?”
“The doctor at the jail said it was mostly puncture wounds and didn’t need any stitches, but it still hurts like hell.”
“Rocky and I won’t charge you for the lesson you might use later in life.”
“We’re not here to thank you. It’s no worse than some of the lessons my dad laid on me over the years.”
“That’s what I figured.” Now he was able to casually push the button on the electronic release, and the door right behind the two brothers clicked and swung open, leaving Rocky in the perfect position to jump out and land on the younger brother. Rocky stood there for a moment, emitting a menacing growl. “Looks like you boys brought fists to a dogfight.”
Arnold Junior said, “No, wait. We’re not here to cause any trouble.”
Scent of Murder Page 21