Josie looked at the other officers, all of whom appeared as shocked as she was at finding Billy’s lifeless body sprawled out in the open. There was little dignity in death. The muscles relaxed and body functions loosened, allowing bodily fluids to escape, and then within hours the body’s muscles contracted and became locked in place, causing rigor mortis. It was clear by the awkward positioning of Billy’s stiff legs and arms that he had been dead for several hours. Josie bent down to examine his face and saw that the blood had already begun to pool in the soft tissue in his face. His cheek, lying against the ground, was already turning a maroon color. After several minutes Dr. Begley stood and turned around to face the officers.
“No vital signs. I’d estimate he’s been dead since early morning. There’s vomit on the ground. Probably killed by alcohol poisoning.”
Josie winced. The smell coming off his body was horrible.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Mitchell Cowan at the coroner’s office.
“We’ve got a dead body,” Josie said. “Behind the trauma center. How soon can you be here?”
* * *
Dave and Juan set up a perimeter around the park and marked it with crime-scene tape while they waited on Cowan to complete his initial exam. Josie and Otto took photographs and examined the area. They found an empty fifth of Jack Daniel’s and a plastic baggie with several pills. Josie scanned the pills with her cell phone and used an app to identify them as OxyContin and Ambien, a deadly combination if mixed with enough alcohol.
Once the body had been removed for transport to the coroner’s office, Josie and Otto finished processing the scene while Marta walked the perimeter of the park and the parking lot, looking for anything else that might tie into the case.
The bag of pills and the bottle were both lying within two feet of Billy’s body. He appeared to have been sitting on the bench when he passed out, dropping the pills and bottle as he fell to the ground. There was nothing about the scene that appeared suspicious. Sadly, it looked like a straightforward and successful suicide attempt.
Josie placed the bag of pills into an evidence bag and Otto filled out a tag with date, time, and location.
“Suicide?” he asked.
“You think Billy killed Ferris and then killed himself over the guilt?” Josie said.
“Sure. If Ferris was HIV positive, he could have passed the virus on to Billy. Billy killed Ferris in anger, but couldn’t take the guilt so he drank himself to death.”
Josie felt something gnawing away at her, but couldn’t put it in words yet. “Part of this feels a little coincidental.”
“How so?”
She put a hand up and ticked off several points one at a time. “Ferris is found dead in Billy’s house. Ferris has some issues with homosexuality. Someone at Billy’s house is digging into research on HIV and AIDS. Billy shows up dead too. That’s a lot of drama.”
“Who has the motive to kill Billy?”
“If Brenda thought Billy contracted AIDS from Ferris?” Josie curled her lip up. “I’d want to kill him. That’d be motive enough for me as his wife.”
“What about the meal-ticket theory. Everyone who knows her says her primary goal in life is to make Billy a star.”
“I don’t know. Maybe we’re too focused on the HIV/AIDS theory.”
Otto didn’t respond and Josie noticed him giving her an uncomfortable look. “What about Brenda?” he asked.
She sighed. Their work at the park was finished. She had a job to do.
* * *
Manny’s Motel was just two blocks from the trauma center. Josie found Brenda and Manny sitting on a bench outside the motel.
“Did you find him?” Brenda asked, standing when Josie reached her.
“Can we talk inside your room?” Josie asked.
Brenda paused, her expression already searching. “Of course, yes, come in.”
Manny walked quietly back to his office, no doubt sensing the news was not good. Josie shut the door behind her and noted that the room was clean, the suitcase zipped up in the corner, the bed neatly made, the TV running on mute on top of the dresser. She imagined Brenda pacing the room waiting to hear from her husband. Manny, good man that he was, most likely came down to sit with her until she heard back from the police.
“I’ve come with terrible news.”
“What? What’s happened?”
“We found Billy’s body in the small park behind the trauma center. It appears he passed away from alcohol poisoning.”
“What?” The word came out in a strangled whisper. Brenda sank down onto the bed and stared at Josie.
“I’m so sorry,” Josie said.
“I don’t believe it.”
“I’m sorry, Brenda. Do you have some family I could call for you? Someone who could come be with you right now?”
“Billy drinks whiskey. He’s not a kid. Do you know how much he would need to drink to pass out?”
“We found an empty fifth of Jack Daniel’s and a plastic baggie with a few pills in it. It appears he took a combination of prescription drugs and alcohol.”
Brenda looked confused and then hopeful, as if there had been a mistake. “Billy doesn’t take any medication. He doesn’t take any pills. Even for a hangover he doesn’t take anything. He’s perfectly healthy.”
“Prescription drugs are fairly easy to get. Billy could have gotten them from any number of people at the Hell-Bent.”
“No!”
Josie leaned toward the bed, trying to get Brenda to listen to reason without going into details that she didn’t want to hear. “We don’t have blood results. We’ll wait until an examination has been done, but it looked like a combination of Ambien and OxyContin. If he combined the pills with a fifth of whiskey, the result would be fatal.”
“He doesn’t have access to pills like that.”
“Sometimes a spouse can have an addiction to drugs that their partner doesn’t even know about. It happens more often than you might think.”
“It did not happen to Billy! When you sleep in a hotel room with a person for days on end, there aren’t many secrets. Billy is my husband and I love him very much. But he’s also my job. I know everything he packs, everything he buys, who he talks to. He is not responsible.” Something made Brenda stop talking. Perhaps she realized she was referring to her husband in the present tense. Maybe it was the accusatory tone of her words. She put her face in her hands and cried until her body shook. She finally curled into a ball on the bed and sobbed. Josie tried to touch Brenda on the shoulder, to offer comfort, but she pulled away and moaned in response. Josie walked to the front window in the motel room and looked outside, unable to watch the woman’s private anguish.
Brenda finally stopped crying and Josie was able to find a phone number for her sister, Patty, by flipping through numbers in Brenda’s cell phone. Josie told Brenda she was going to call Patty and Brenda simply nodded. Josie used her own phone and Patty answered. Josie explained the situation and that she was worried about her sister’s state of mind. She explained that it would be a good idea for someone from the family to come stay with her for a day or two. Josie noted that when she spoke Patty’s name into the phone Brenda closed her eyes and began crying again into her pillow. Patty assured Josie that she would be in Artemis by 8:00 that night and would stay as long as Brenda needed her. Patty had been shocked and concerned for her sister, saying she would come immediately, but Josie hadn’t been able to glean much about Patty’s relationship with her sister, or her feelings toward Billy.
When Josie hung up the phone she sat beside Brenda on the bed and explained that her sister would be at the hotel by eight that night. Brenda nodded without speaking. Josie left reluctantly, worrying they would have another suicide on their hands by morning.
SEVENTEEN
Josie pulled into her parking space the next morning at 7:30 to find Turner sitting in her car in front of the PD, talking on her cell phone. When Josie got out of her car, Turner rolled down her
window and beckoned for her. She finished her conversation and hung up her phone but didn’t set it down.
“Take a look at this,” she said.
“Would you like to come in the office?” Josie asked, slightly annoyed that Turner expected their business to be conducted outside, next to her car, and predictably on her terms.
“Can’t. I’m due in court this morning. Check out this video.” She passed her phone to Josie. “Press the play button.”
Josie did as instructed and watched a grainy black-and-white video, showing what appeared to be the entrance to a store or commercial building. After several seconds of seeing nothing she looked at Turner. “What am I looking at?”
“Don’t look away! It only takes about thirty seconds. This is video surveillance taken at a Quick Mart just off Interstate 10 at nine thirty Sunday night. The video is time-stamped. Want to guess the location?”
Josie said nothing. She watched as two people walked up to the building. Even on the small screen of Turner’s phone Josie could identify Billy and Brenda Nix walking side by side up to the door.
“That video’s taken in Sonora, Texas. That means they left the Hell-Bent at six p.m., just like they said they did. That’s a three-and-half-hour drive. No way they could have left their home at seven fifteen and made it to the Quick Mart by that time.”
Josie nodded, impressed. “I’ll need the original tape as evidence.”
“Already done. I e-mailed you the store manager’s contact information. I told him you’d be calling. I wanted to show you it this morning though before I got stuck in court all day. Brenda called me last night. She’s a mess.” She put her hand out of the car window to take her cell phone back from Josie. “I don’t know who killed Ferris Sinclair. But somebody is playing hell with my client. Brenda Nix is an innocent woman.”
“Do you think Billy committed suicide?” Josie asked.
Turner pointed a finger at Josie. “That’s why you get paid the big bucks.” She rolled her window up and backed out of the parking space.
Josie smiled. Turner often pissed her off, but she couldn’t help liking her at the same time.
Lou had just taken over the computer from the night dispatcher and was catching up on messages when Josie entered the PD. Before Josie could say good morning to Lou, the bell rang and she turned around to see Doug Free walk in.
“Morning,” he said.
“Hey, Doug. How’s it going?”
“The fire marshal, Ned Franklin, just arrived this morning. He drove into town late last night. We’re headed over to the Nixes’. I apologize for not letting you know sooner.”
Josie put her hand up to stop him. “You don’t owe me an apology. You have enough on your plate right now.”
“It’s been a tough week. We’re still dealing with the aftermath at the mudflats. Ned would like to have you with us this morning if you can make it.”
“Absolutely. I’ll let Otto know where I’m headed, and I’ll see you over there.”
Josie walked upstairs to the office, where she found Otto digging through his filing cabinet. He turned and looked at her, his face slack and his eyes tired.
“Good news, Otto.”
“We could use a bit of good news about now.”
“The fire marshal is in town. I’m headed over now to meet with him and Doug at the Nixes’.”
Otto shook his head, obviously hoping for something a bit more positive than that.
“Also, Turner stopped by this morning on her way to court. This case gets stranger by the day,” she said.
“What did she want?”
“She showed me a convenience store video of Brenda and Billy entering the store in Sonora at nine thirty p.m. That means Billy and Brenda left the Hell-Bent by six, exactly when they said they left. They’re off the hook.”
He looked at Josie for a moment, obviously wrestling with something.
“What is it?” she asked.
“What if they killed him earlier in the day, before they went to the Hell-Bent?”
“Doesn’t make sense. That would mean two different killers. If they killed him earlier in the afternoon, then someone else would have had to have driven to their home to start the fire later that evening. And why would they kill Ferris, and then have someone else come set their house on fire? Doesn’t work.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. I thought for sure they were connected to Ferris’s death.”
“Yep. We’re back to motive,” she said. “Do me a favor and check on the subpoena for Billy’s phone records. We need to know who he talked with the night he died. I’ll be back, hopefully before lunch.”
* * *
By the time Josie pulled into the Nixes’ driveway, Ned Franklin was walking around the outside of the house, surveying the damage. He wore navy pants and a white short-sleeved shirt with the gold fire marshal shield above his breast pocket, gold corner pins over his collar tips, and a red and black insignia patch over his arm. He was a trim man in his fifties who walked through the blackened surroundings as if the territory were familiar to him. Josie watched his eyes travel over the house and grounds, surveying everything, cataloging the details as he listened to Doug summarize the time frame for when events took place. Josie overheard Doug explaining the spotter logs and the flyover in the helicopter as they walked around the side of the house.
“I feel very confident that the wildfire and the Nixes’ fire were two separate events,” Doug said.
“I would agree completely at this point,” Ned said.
After the two had circled the home and arrived back at the front yard, Doug introduced Ned to Josie. He had silver hair, neatly trimmed, with deep lines across his forehead that signaled a life spent outside in the bright Texas sunshine. He smiled openly and shook Josie’s hand.
“Under normal circumstances the Texas state fire marshal would assist, but the wildfires have every agent working overtime. The state marshal asked if I’d come down and offer a hand.”
“We appreciate you coming. I’m paranoid every time I walk inside that I’m destroying evidence. Everything is so fragile,” Josie said.
“That’s the right approach to have. It’ll be good to have you here with us. You might be able to fill in some holes for us.”
“Any thoughts on what you’ve seen so far?”
He pointed toward the hole in the front of the house. “It’s obvious an accelerant was used to start the fire. Accelerants burn hotter and faster.” He pointed at the couch. “I’m surprised the synthetic material on the couch wasn’t completely consumed.” He then pointed to the floor just inside the living room where the center of the hole was located. “Notice the tile floor here? That’s partly what kept this fire in place.” He bent down on his hands and knees in front of the tile and sniffed. He finally stood back up and pointed to where the front doorway had been located. “The accelerant, and by the smell of it, I’m guessing kerosene, was poured directly in front of this tile floor. It caused the fire to burn up into the rafters rather than directly out.”
Josie nodded, impressed with the information.
Ned stood on the porch facing the gaping hole into the house. “Look here. Fire typically burns in the shape of V so we can often trace back the exact origin. That’s what’s happened here. There’s about a three-foot area where accelerant was poured onto the outside of the house around the doorway and left to pool on the ground.”
“Makes sense,” Josie said.
“See the black mark on the concrete here where it started?”
She nodded.
Ned got down on his hands and knees again and pulled a tool that looked like a wide screwdriver out of his pocket. He pried up the aluminum flashing under the doorjamb. “Take a look. See the black charring?”
Josie bent down closer. “Yeah, I can see it.”
“The wildfire that whipped through here wouldn’t have burned underneath this metal flashing. The puddle from the accelerant burned and caused that wood underneath here to cat
ch.” He used the tool to point to the concrete around the door. “This is called spalling, where the layers of concrete break away from the intense heat. Notice this is the only area on the patio where that happened?”
“That’s excellent,” she said, impressed with his knowledge.
“Doug already suspected this and collected evidence. I’ll get it to the lab and get you a report as soon as I can on the liquid that was used. Let’s move on inside and take a look where the body was found.”
Once inside the house Ned stood in front of the couch and crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the charred mess in front of him. “Here’s where I’d like your help, Chief Gray.”
She nodded.
“The fire was either arson with a specific motive, or it was set by an arsonist who may have a set of motivations that are more complicated than you would first think.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Can you explain the difference?”
“Arson is fire intentionally set to destroy property.”
She nodded.
“An arsonist is the person who commits arson. If the person fits the characteristics of a typical arsonist we’d be looking at a young male, under the age of twenty-five, who comes from a single-parent family with no father figure. Fire becomes a sense of pride and way to control situations.”
Josie nodded. “So you would approach the investigation differently if you thought the fire was set by an arsonist versus someone who burned the house down with a specific motive. Such as covering up a murder.”
“Exactly.”
Josie glanced at Doug and frowned. “Yesterday I would have told you that this fire was set with the sole purpose of covering up the murder of Ferris Sinclair. Today, I’m not so sure. The two suspects we thought might have had a motive for murder have a tight alibi. Ferris wasn’t well liked, but I’ve not found anyone yet with the motive to want to kill him and burn his body. This was brutal.”
Ned squatted down to get eye-level with the couch. He seemed to be surveying the fabric, inch by inch. After several minutes he stood and moved directly in front of the couch, performing the same visual scan.
He stood again. “Have you moved the couch?”
Firebreak: A Mystery Page 16