by Jill S. Behe
Dark Deeds
Jill S. Behe
Copyright © 2019 by Jill S. Behe
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
THANKS AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS….
* * *
Lar: For your suggestions for the title. Though the one I chose wasn’t exact, yours made the lightbulb shine. Blood is thick. Love you forever, sis.
* * *
Scott: I’m amazed by your knowledge and understanding of firearms, long and short. I appreciate the time you take to answer my questions about brands and calibers and uses, etc. It’s like having access to a massive encyclopedia. Much appreciation.
* * *
Rae: Your friendship is priceless! And, your eyes are sharp as a hawk’s! Thank goodness. I’m awed by your talent. Blessed is the day we met at the Round Table. Thank you.
* * *
Roe: For the gracious (enthusiastically—gleefully—agreed upon) use of your name for a character in this book. So glad we got to meet. Bandits. 3:30.
* * *
To my publisher—Devil Dog Press—and Tracy: Thank you seems so inadequate for continuing to take a chance on me and my work. You’re the best! Couldn’t ask for better.
For my mom, and her sisters
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
About the Author
Also by Jill S. Behe
Also From DevilDog Press
Chapter 1
October 2016….
Sunday morning….
* * *
“Ready, Bella Mia?” Decker Brogan rinsed out his favorite mug and set it on the drain board. His drink preference was coffee, but Earl Grey was now his morning beverage—a battle won by his late wife.
The mixed yellow lab, acquired from the local SPCA four years ago, gave a sharp bark. Could have been affirmation, or anticipation. They both enjoyed the morning run through the forest behind the house. The daily outing started when he and Lizzie moved into the house—in the boondocks, as their son called it—ten years before. A regimen Decker had continued since his wife’s death, to keep himself in shape, and to pretend for all the time it took, that she was still with him. What it had done was help ease the grief of her passing.
The pain wasn’t as sharp anymore. The memories not as clear. Still, the loss was like having a limb amputated.
Fall was in full bloom in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, and the Aspens were about at their peak. The sound of that autumn gold spinning in the wind was a sure sign winter was on its way.
Decker zipped a windbreaker over his sweatshirt and patted his leg, a familiar signal to Bella. She followed her master into the mudroom and waited, tongue lolling, butt wiggling, tail slapping against the washing machine so hard it sounded like a drum beating.
Snapping on her leash, Decker opened the back door.
Still the canine waited.
“Go ahead.”
Trotting onto the wooden deck, she stopped and sat, body vibrating with excitement.
Decker locked up and pocketed the key. “Come on then.”
The house was remote, but he was not about to take a chance that some opportunist would happen along and walk in while he was gone.
How times had changed.
Their warm-up walk quickly segued into a jog following a well-worn track through the dense trees, along a burbling brook, up around the ranger station, and back. Four miles, all told.
The air, most mornings now, held a distinct chill. A reminder of the change in seasons, and the approach of winter. This morning, a flaming burst of orange-red brilliance heralded the sunrise. Decker silently recited the old axiom: Red in the morning, sailor take warning. Red at night, sailor’s delight. Today’s weather forecast, with the prediction of heavy storms later in the afternoon, agreed.
Still, a perfect start to the day.
Until they came across the body.
Chapter 2
About two and a half miles in, the trail curved to the left, away from the shallow stream that wound through the woods.
Bella alerted and nudged Decker’s leg. She tugged on the leash until he stopped moving, then sat.
Dead bodies, in real life, are much different than ones seen on TV. There’s an odor, for one thing. The skin has a distinct cast, too—or perhaps lack of color would be more accurate. The poor girl/woman…female, was dead, and it hadn’t been an accident. The full extent of her injuries was beyond Decker’s line of sight, as was any sign of blood, but…
…some things you just know.
He wouldn’t speculate on her time of death (though he was capable), nor her mode of death, or do a probability on why she was chosen, or guess at a possible motive. He’d left that life behind several years past. A hard decision, but necessary, and not without consequences. This was a matter for law enforcement.
There was no cell service this far in.
“Good girl, Bella.” He gave his furry companion’s neck an energetic ruffle. Someone had done an excellent job training this dog. “Should we stop over at the ranger station? Or head back home and call our buddy, the cop boss?”
The dog let out a mournful howl and turned towards home.
And she was in a hurry.
Not one to ignore an animal’s instincts, Decker ran, too.
He wasn’t worried, disturbed on a couple different levels, but not worried.
“Crescent Falls Police Department.”
Being a personal friend of the chief of police, he had the man’s private number, but reckoned going through official channels would be best.
The voice was unexpected. “Roe?” That’s right, it was Sunday. No Abigail today.
Rosemarie Kurylo, weekend dispatcher, was on the desk. A widow from back East, she’d moved out about three years previous. Settled in. Her two grown children had followed her out a year later, dragging her two teenage grandsons with them.
“Who is calling please?”
Shit. “Ah. Sorry. Forgot it was the weekend. Decker Brogan here. Is Levi in?”
“Decker Brogan. Haven’t heard your voice in forever. Sure, hang on. I’ll pass you back.”
“Good to hear your voice too, Miss Roe. Thanks.”
“You betcha.”
There were a series of clicks, and half a minute passed. “Chief Kincaid, how can I help you?”
The man sounded tired.
“It’s Decker.”
“Deck! How’s it going? Missed you at the church social last night.” The implication being that he hadn’t been seen at church this morning, either.
“You know I never go to those things.” Evade and move on. “Didn’t even when Liz was alive.”
The other man chuckled. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. So what’s up, my friend? Need a fishing buddy?”
“No, but I’ll keep you in mind for next time.”
“’Preciate that. Whatcha got?”
“Bella and I were on our run this morning and we came across a body. Female. Fully clothed. Couldn’t tell her age. Her death wasn’t an accident, and she wasn’t there yesterday.”
“Where ’bouts?” The cop sounded more alert.
“Halfway between my place and the ranger station, along the creek where the trail curves.”
“All right.” Aware of Decker’s background, Levi figured there was more. “See anything else you want to share?”
“She’s prone, arms over her head like she was dragged and dropped. I think she was killed somewhere else, and dumped. Or not. What I could see of it, blonde hair sticking out of a light blue ski cap. She was turned away so I couldn’t see much. Hiking boots, one of those snow bunny marshmallow-puffy jackets—light blue. Jeans, looked new. No rings, watches, or bracelets that I could see.”
“All that?”
“Yes, and from a distance, which is why I can’t give a more accurate age. We didn’t get close. Didn’t want to compromise the scene.”
“A good thing. You’re calling from home?”
“Couldn’t get a signal out there. It was faster to come home than head for the ranger station.”
“Good to know. I’ll round up a team and meet at your place. You can lead us in, if you don’t mind.”
“Roger that.”
“I’ll be needing a formal statement.”
“Figured. Let me know when’s convenient.”
“Thanks, Deck. See you in a few.”
Decker hung up and looked at Bella. “Well, guess we’re gonna have company. Levi will take care of her from here. He’s good at what he does.”
Bella whimpered and flopped down, head on her paws.
“Yeah, you’re right, girl. It’s sad.”
Chapter 3
A few hours later, Decker and Levi sat at Decker’s kitchen table talking over coffee. Bella lay a few feet away, chin on her paws, watching.
“You said she wasn’t there yesterday. Do you run about the same time every day?”
“As close as we can. I try not to change it too much.”
Levi eyed him over the rim of his mug.
“I know, I know. Routines aren’t always a good thing. This isn’t about me.”
“How can you be sure? She was left in a spot that you frequent on a daily basis.”
“That’s a leap, isn’t it? Maybe the killer just needed a secluded spot.”
“Not so very.”
“She wasn’t exactly out on the main road.”
“The trail you use leads right past where you found her.”
“We don’t know, I don’t know, that the killer is aware of my morning ritual. Any hiker could have found her.”
“We don’t know that he isn’t aware, either.”
“True, but—”
“What else?”
Decker eyed his friend, irritation tightened his mouth. “Like what?”
“Could you ID her?”
“Why would you think I’d know her?” A pause, to tamp down the mood. The man was only doing his job. “No. The first time I saw her face was when Buzz turned her over. She looked vaguely like I’d maybe seen her somewhere before, but I don’t know her.” He paused. “When did he take over for Doc Gibbons? Figured that man’d be the coroner ’til he was laying on a slab himself.”
The right side of Levi’s mouth turned up. “As you are aware, our buddy, Bartholomew—aka Buzz—Lightfoot, was the doc’s assistant for almost twenty years. Doc told him last Labor Day, after that horrific pile up on Stone Mountain Road, that he was passing on the rib-splitters.”
“Huh.” Decker shook his head. “Okay. But to clarify, again, no, I don’t know her."
“All right. I’ll have the guys start canvassing town with a picture. Maybe we’ll get a hit.”
“Prints, too. Maybe.”
Levi took his cup to the sink. “Yeah. That’d be right helpful.” He turned, leaned against the counter. “I may have more questions as the case progresses.”
“I’m aware of the procedure.”
Levi hitched his britches. “It’s not personal, ya know.”
“I know.”
“Elizabeth—”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare bring her into this. There’s no connection.”
“You can’t be certain of that, especially so early in the investigation.” Levi studied his friend. “Just be careful.”
“I’m as careful as I need to be.”
Levi’s eyes narrowed. “Do me a favor and jack it up a tad.”
“I can try to do that.”
Levi grabbed his hat off the table. “Right then. I’m heading back. You need anything, hear anything, see—”
“I’ll call. I promise.”
“No getting a bee in that wavy stuff you call hair, and going off on your own.”
Though he chuckled at his friend’s colorful analogy, Decker had no intention of doing any poking around on his own. But Levi didn’t need to know that.
Decker walked the lawman to the door, Bella followed. “Drive safe, my friend.”
“I’m serious, Deck. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Damn. Decker was familiar with his bud’s gut when it came to crime. If Levi had a bad feeling, it would behoove him to heed the warning. “I’ll do my best. Fair enough?”
Levi nodded, and raised a fist. “Semper fi.”
Decker bumped it. “Semper fi.”
The law man went across the porch and out to the driveway. In the cruiser, he buckled up then rolled down the window. “Be. Careful.”
Decker gave a mock salute, and watched the man drive away. There were some things he’d never shared with his best bud. Heaved a sigh, head shaking.
Double damn.
What he hadn’t told his former Marine buddy— What he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge even to himself, was the recurring nightmare he’d had for the past four nights.
A nightmare that now looked a lot like his reality.
He and Levi had been through more shit than— Hell. Dreams were weird anyway, but these were definitely on the…woo-woo, side of the equation. He’d never been comfortable around that kind of thing. Sure there’d been times he’d known certain things about a mission that defied the norm, but gory dreams of future events? That was a first. And, he hoped, the last.
Ever since he’d come out of the coma after getting shot in the head all those years ago, things hadn’t been the same.
Damn coke-hyped junkie.
Chapter 4
Monday morning….
* * *
Reports of the body found in the Crescent Forest were plastered on every TV channel, radio station, and the internet within a hundred mile radius since Saturday night. Decker figured it was in the local papers, too, but he hadn’t looked at a newspaper in five years.
And he didn’t figure it would be long before the frantic calls from his progeny (the one of the female persuasion in particular) would begin. They’d nearly drowned him in calls and visits when Lizzie had died, all insistent in their concern for him. They were concerned.
Her? Too much. Always. Over-dramatic, to boot.
This time would be worse, he reckoned. Just the fact that he’d found the body—
Nope, won’t take long.
&
nbsp; And he was right.
An hour after the first broadcast, his cell rang. At the time, he’d been in the shower. Two minutes after that, the landline rang. And it continued, non-stop, between cell and landline.
Twenty-five messages in voicemail. Twelve missed calls—with (probably) messages that he was just going to erase without listening to—on his cell, and thirty text messages. All from Carin.
He found it…curious, but a relief, there were none from Cade.
Groaning, he looked at the ceiling. “Lizzie my love, she’s going to drive me to drink.”
The landline began to ring, again.
He unplugged it.
And before the cell could start, he turned it off.
On a sigh, he said to Bella, “I know I shouldn’t ignore her, it’ll only make things worse. But she’s making me mad, and if I talk to her, I’ll say something I don’t mean. It’s better this way.” He checked his watch. “I imagine she’ll start driving this way in another thirty minutes. How about we go get some chow?”
At Decker’s signal, Bella jumped up, tail wagging.
Locking up—good thing he’d never given a spare key to either child—he went out to the truck.