BLINDED (Elkridge Series Book 1)

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BLINDED (Elkridge Series Book 1) Page 12

by Lyz Kelley


  “You’re okay, Gus. I’m not going to hurt you.” The way the dog watched him with his ears down, tail tucked, gave the impression the animal was waiting for a swift kick to the ribs. Joey wanted to throttle the man who instilled this fear. Some man had abused this dog, he had no doubt, because Gus wasn’t afraid of Mara or Karly. Just him.

  “That’s a good boy. Almost done. Just one more strap. I want to make sure your pack doesn’t rub over your burn scars.”

  Mara leaned in and rested her hand on Gus’s head. “You might be interested to know Sam arrested the dog’s owner and charged him with animal cruelty. He got three months in jail and a seven thousand-dollar fine for setting Gus on fire.”

  Fire. Shit. His hand rested on Gus’s pack and then slowly pulled into an angry fist. “Karly said he was in a fire, not that he was the one on fire.”

  “She’s worried if she tells people the true story, Gus won’t find a good home. I believe you’ve already guessed he has some trust issues.”

  Joey slowly turned Gus around to look into the dog’s eyes. Intelligence. Determination. Stubbornness. Just like the woman standing beside him. “I’ve got a feeling Gus is going to find a good home. Aren’t you, boy? Are you ready to go?”

  “Ready.” Mara’s courageous tone and the excitement of the dogs settled his nerves.

  Past ready. More than anything, for his family, for the citizens of Elkridge, he wanted the coward who did this locked up.

  “There’s a gate ahead. I’ll go first.” He approached a metal structure. “Watch your head.” He placed a hand on Mara’s head, helping her visualize how far she needed to duck to avoid bonking her forehead. “The dirt road curves around to the right. After that, we should be able to see the crime scene.”

  After checking his phone for the time, he listened to the sounds in the woods. Birds aware of their presence flew from branch to branch, watching and waiting. He led Mara farther up the road and around the bend, anxiety made his breathing shallow.

  “Let’s let the dogs run. They won’t go far.” Mara released Buddy’s collar and Joey let go of Gus’s. Immediately Gus put his nose to the ground and began making a looping pattern, racing twenty yards ahead and then running back only to repeat the process.

  Mara squeezed his arm. “Tell me what you’re seeing.”

  He honed his senses into the emotionless zone and scanned the road, looking at the tree line for a moment, searching for something with a shine, anything to alert him to another presence. Rounding the bend, he saw it. The site. His blood slowed, making his fingers numb. He gripped his computer tighter and forced his body to keep a steady pace with Mara.

  “The place Sam fell is just ahead. On the right, there’s a twenty-degree slope with a mixture of evergreens, broad leaf trees and bushes. The vegetation is thick. Very little could get through. On the left, there’s a fifteen-foot dirt clearing, before the tree line starts.”

  There’s trees. Lots of them. And a wide road. No way was this an accident. Poacher, my ass, his dad’s emotionally charged comments echoed in his head.

  “The road is straight for about four hundred yards, then curves back toward the left.” He checked his watch: 14:07. He noted the angle of the sun, the slope of the hill, the curve of the road, and calculated how the angle of the sun would change the scenery. Then he saw the distinct stain on the side of the road.

  His brother’s blood had turned black with age.

  “We’re almost there,” he choked out to keep his bubbling fury from impacting Mara.

  “Okay. I’ve got the general layout. Let’s start with the why? What made your brother stop? Why here? Why not at the gate? Why not farther up the road? What could have caught his eye and made him stop?”

  He crouched several feet away from the scene, imaging the events unfolding. “Good question.” He communicated the placement of every critical element—the car, body, road, sun, trees—allowing Mara to place each item on her mental grid. “I wonder if he saw something up ahead.”

  A movie of possible events began to play in his head, fast-forwarding and rewinding as necessary to define possibilities. Alternatives.

  “Based on crime scene pictures, it appears Sam had pulled to the left-hand side, his SUV pointing up the road. To your point, why didn’t he drive another couple hundred yards? From what I can see, the road opens up in about a quarter of a mile. Why did he stop here? Why not farther up the road?”

  Joey studied the photograph showing the position of the patrol car. “Sam’s door was left open.” He moved to the left to align his sight with the body and visually traced a straight line to the ridge on the right about three hundred yards. “Sam was shot in the upper left side of the chest. The only place where someone with a rifle could miss an open car door and hit a human chest is just about fifty yards up that hill in front of us.”

  “If that’s the case, the shooter would have had a clear view of who he was shooting. From what you told me, there are no trees blocking the view.”

  “Exactly.” Sam was murdered. There’s the proof.

  He scanned through document images and research notes. “The day had been exceptionally warm for February—records indicated sixty-eight degrees. The heat could have been the reason Sam wasn’t wearing his protective vest.”

  “Assuming he wore one. At the café, I overhear deputies complaining all the time about the weight and how those vests restrict movement.”

  Frustration burned in his throat. “True, but standard-issue equipment should be worn at all times. Period. No excuses.” The policy had been drilled into him since the first day on the job. But Sam never did like rules. “Studying the pictures, my guess, based on the blood spatter and the caliber of weapon, is that the bullet hit hard enough to drop him to the ground. Once down, he tried to radio for help, but couldn’t, sending only a silent signal to alert the department.” Joey studied the contours of the landscape. “I wish I had those lab reports. There’s a notation here that Sam had bruising along the ribs, but without the full report, I don’t know whether the bruising was recent or from a prior accident.”

  “Joey. You mentioned you and Sam were a lot alike in some ways. We already know Sam was trying to leave a clue, but what else might he do?”

  Awareness buzzed through his mind—the Jekyll and Hyde effect of not wanting to think about Sam’s death, yet being driven to find answers.

  Fractions of ideas pieced together. “If it were me, I’d try leaving as many clues as possible. Something. Anything to provide information for my team.” He scrolled through the pictures on the computer screen reviewing the position of his brother’s body, then squinted closer.

  His hand. I see it. “Mara, you’re a genius. Sam’s hand is gripping something, and he’s pointing a finger.”

  Before his mind engaged, he grabbed Mara and gave her a sound kiss on the lips. In that single beat of his heart, he instantly regretted the spontaneous act. He’d been thinking about kissing her for a lifetime, and the kiss he’d just given her seemed an eternity away from his fantasy. In his dreams, the connection was tender and satisfying.

  He stopped and cupped her jaw. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate, especially here, in this place. I wasn’t thinking, but I have to tell you, I’ve been waiting a long time to kiss you.” He took a step back. “It’s just this place. Sam. Wanting to spend time with you. It’s a lot to deal with all at once.”

  “I’m sure coming back, dealing with your dad, and your own grief, it must be hard.”

  “It seems so surreal. Sam’s gone. He’s really gone.”

  Mara touched his chest, then slid her arm up to touch his face. “If I could take your pain away, I would.”

  “You can’t.” The sting behind his eyes intensified.

  “I know.”

  He leaned in to capture her lips. The sweet kiss felt comfortable, like a soft summer breeze, even though the temperature hovered around freezing. When he lifted his head, he interpreted her facial expressions, and damn if
he didn’t see disappointment.

  “Mara?”

  “I’m not breakable,” she whispered, then tugged him closer. “Kiss me like you mean it. Let me help ease your pain.”

  God, he needed this. Needed her. He dove in to ease the hurt. The edgy, hard and wet kiss inspired him to push a bit further. Her whimper filled his mouth. Caution made him want to draw back, but she sank her fingers into his hair, gripping and pulling, urging him for more. He gripped her hips hard and pulled her close, wanting to feel her press against his chest.

  Finally. His brain cells stopped functioning. They gave no thought to where they were. No thought to his brother’s case. No thought to him leaving. Only the woman and the man existed.

  The dogs playing nearby eventually engaged his subconscious. Reluctantly, he began pulling away, her lips clinging to his for a moment longer before she released him. Desperately he worked to get his knees to lock so he wouldn’t fall on his ass.

  “That sucks,” she breathed with a bit of a frazzled attitude.

  “Excuse me?” He dropped his hands.

  Her hands slowly slid down his chest. “All these years, I’ve wondered what it would be like to be kissed to the point I’d forget the outside world exists. Finally, you kiss me in a way I’ve only imagined, and it’s in the middle of a crime scene. Not under mistletoe, or on New Year’s Eve. Sometimes the timing in my life sucks.”

  She was pissed. And that was just fine, because he’d been pissed for a good long time. First about her brother warning him off, then about finding out she wasn’t married after all this time. Feeling something other than hollow about the subject of Mara felt good. Actually, it felt terrific.

  “Buddy, come,” she called, then released a sound somewhere between irritated, euphoric, and enlightened or all at the same time. “We better stay focused. Now that we know for sure Sam was murdered, we need to find something to help the deputies find the killer.”

  Well, hell. She had a point. “You’re right, but if there is one thing I’ve learned this trip it’s that life is too short to ignore opportunities. I could be shot tomorrow, and if that’s the case, I’m sure as hell not going to wait to get another kiss.”

  He took two steps and pulled her into his arms again, this time taking his time. He pressed deep, replacing his air with her fragrance. Her body tipped back and her knees unlocked, but he held her safe, just like he’d held her in his heart all these years. She tasted so damn good, he wanted to absorb her body into his. He kissed his way to her earlobe and nibbled, then licked the soft spot under her ear. She groaned and cocked her head to the side to give him access. The curve of her throat and the heat of her body made him press closer, tasting the salt of her skin. Wanting more.

  When Buddy gently stepped on her foot, whimpered, then sat waiting, Joey finally called a halt to the glorious comfort he so desperately needed. Her head dropped forward, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply. His arms were locked, frozen, not wanting to let her go. The ache became excruciating.

  He rested his chin on the top of her head.

  She became so silent, he refocused. “Mara?”

  “Hmmm?” A saturated sigh of contentment floated up to him.

  “Did that suck?”

  “No,” Mara pushed the hair from her face, “I have to admit that didn’t suck. In fact, it was pretty awesome. Do you feel any better?”

  “I do. Thanks.”

  “We’d better get back to finding clues before whatever this is between us gets out of hand. You’re leaving soon, and I’m sure you want to have some answers before you go home.”

  “Maybe, you can find some leftover mistletoe another time and we can practice.”

  She adjusted the scarf around her neck, tucking in the ends to block the chilling wind. Not the response he’d hoped for, but he’d take the flustered emotions rather than her turning and walking away. At least she didn’t close the door completely, but maybe she should have. Pushing him away might have been easier. She wouldn’t leave Elkridge, and his job was in Seattle. So, what did that leave them?

  Nothing. That’s what.

  Working to find a distraction, and get his push-pull emotions under control, he retrieved his computer and expanded the photo images, again noting the direction of Sam’s pointed finger.

  The bloodstained patch of ground formed a permanent image. His lungs again burned with a wild rage while his eyes scanned every rock, muddy surface, blade of grass. He studied the natural patterns in the earth…and then there it was. An unnatural configuration.

  “I think I found something.” He stepped carefully around the edge of the evidence to place his body in the same direction as his brother, and leaned in.

  Weather elements had deteriorated the markings. “There’s another mark.”

  Why had these details been missed?

  Mara came closer. “What do you think it is?”

  “It’s a bit washed out, but I think it could be an arrow pointing at the ridge behind us. It’s the same ridge, based on the angle, where the shot was fired.”

  Frustration pulsed through his arteries. He’d looked through the documentation. Nothing in the investigation report indicated that in the last few seconds of his brother’s life, he’d tried to leave clues. How could the investigative team have missed it? Or did they?

  He retrieved his phone to take a video and some additional pictures. He glanced at the ridge in front of him, then at his watch.

  “Tell me about the ridge.” Mara encouraged. “Is there anything about it that looks off? Dead or a lack of trees? An odd color? Movement? Anything?”

  “Not that I can see from here.”

  “I’m still thinking the J stands for Joey. If your brother used the last of his strength to tell you something, you need to follow the clues. You should take Gus to search for clues while it’s still daylight.”

  “Good idea.” He gave a shrill whistle to get the dog’s attention. Buddy turned, but Gus continued to wander. “That’s just great.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Gus. He’s wandered off.”

  “Let me try.” She lowered into a squatting position. “Buddy? Bring Gus. Go on. Bring Gus. Bring your friend.”

  Buddy circled wide through the trees. At first, Joey thought Buddy had ignored Mara, until he appeared just above Gus on the hill and started herding Gus back toward their position. Twice, Buddy had to circle around Gus, but eventually, the Beagle mix got the idea.

  “Unbelievable,” Joey released under his breath.

  “I taught Buddy to find things for me. If I name something, he usually can bring the item to me. I wasn’t sure he could figure out how to bring me a live object, so it was a good test.”

  “You’re good at arranging flowers, but seriously, you should think about training dogs, and I’m not talking about a once-a-month class.”

  “Don’t you start. I’m getting enough pressure from Karly. If she had it her way, I’d work at the kennel full-time.”

  Upon hearing Buddy’s panting return, she stood and reached a hand toward Gus. “Good boys. Joey has a game for you to play.”

  Gus tilted his head at Mara working hard to translate what she was saying. Joey pulled from his pocket a pack of cigarettes and a shell casing, and held them out for Gus to sniff. The dog ignored him, and walked around Mara to hide behind her, while Buddy watched.

  “This isn’t going to work.”

  “What happened?”

  “I can’t get either Buddy or Gus to engage. Maybe, you should try.”

  Mara held out her hand to accept the items, then reached down to wrap her arm around Gus’s torso. “Yes, you’re a good boy.” The Beagle-mix gave her a lick from chin to nose and made her sputter for a second, before he settled to take an interest in what she wanted to show him. He shoved his nose into the items and then pulled back with a heavy sneeze.

  “I agree. Ucky stuff. But you need to take a good sniff. Good boy. Now, find.” She released the do
g and pointed.

  Gus cocked his head to the side, ears lifted. “Find,” Mara repeated. She showed Gus the items in her hand again. Seconds later, Gus took off, nose to the ground. “Am I aiming in the correct direction?”

  “Close.” Joey moved her arm ten degrees to the right. “That’s closer.”

  She pulled her arm in and then thrust it forward as she stood and took a step in the same direction. “Go. Find,” she commanded again.

  “Is it working?”

  Hell, yeah it’s working. Note to self. Never underestimate the woman. “Buddy and Gus are making their way up the hill. Are you still warm enough?”

  “I’m warm, but without Buddy, I’m not sure…I…”

  “We can do this together. You’ve got this. Just tell me what you need.”

  Mara reached out a hand. He gently grabbed her fingers and brought them to his lips for a little nibble.

  She squeaked out a surprise before he placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  “That’s what friends are for.”

  Reluctantly he turned to monitor Gus for any peculiar behavior, but so far, observed nothing. Mara moved along beside him, but when she tripped, he placed an arm around her back. “I’ve got you.”

  “I know.”

  The soft, muttered words spoken with conviction, giving his pride a pump of satisfaction.

  The complete trust on her face created a bold confidence, one he often emulated on the job, but rarely ever felt when with a woman.

  “There is a felled tree just ahead.” He tightened his arm around her waist. “Ready? Leg up and over. That’s it.” She waited for him to do the same before continuing on.

  “I forgot to tell you the rest of what I found this morning. I went for a long run to refresh my memory of the area. It seems there’s been a lot of activity on Sleeping Bear Trail, especially for an old logging road that hasn’t been used for some time. According to county records, there are seven isolated hunting lodges that have been vandalized during the off-season. The odd thing is all the thefts are within an eight-mile radius of Sam’s house. The gas generators were emptied, the firewood used, large truck and small utility tire tracks were found. All the tracks heading into the woods.”

 

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