Wounded Badge Vista

by Kieran York

  Royce folded her arms. “Well, I’ve lost my humor. I’ve got an undersheriff shot and fighting for his life. And now I’m being shadowed by a rotary of deputies.”

  Mike shrugged. “Think of it as a chance to get to know the new recruits better.”

  Royce stood. “Does your grandmother laugh at your jokes?”

  “Grandmother Debra tells far more objectionable jokes that I do. And not only do I like them, your Gran laughs at every one.”

  “I’ll bet Gran loves you,” Royce said with a disbelieving voice.

  “Hey, those two women are birds of a feather. Your Gran and Debra love that church. My family wants to get me back to religion.”

  “You’re not having it?”

  “The pulpit, nope, I’m not a believer. I find religion is humanity’s excuse for knocking off savagery.”

  “I’m surprised Gran doesn’t try converting you.”

  “She does. I see that amuses you.” His laugh rolled. “Your Gran just said this last Sunday. She said if we didn’t change, we’d be upside down in no time at all. She thinks I’m nice as pie. She’ll probably like me better than she likes you. In no time at all, she took to me. Or as your Gran says, ‘two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’ Well?”

  “She probably already likes you as much as she likes me. But Debra is getting very crazy about me.”

  Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, sakey, no.”

  “Not in that way,” Royce said with an accompanying blush.

  “I’m ever so relieved,” Mike feigned relief.

  “I’m going back to work.” She muttered, “Where I’m safe from your humor.”

  She heard his laughter all the way down the hall.

  When Royce left the office, she determined there must be a way to smoke the shooter out. Thoughts of the vast empire of no clues cropped up. There was nothing on the ballistics. Nothing on any trace evidence. There was a Mimic Maiden – unidentifiable DNA or fingerprints. And Royce couldn’t arrest her because she was a chain smoker. Even if she could find Mimic Maiden. With her penchant for disguises, Royce thought, she might be walking past her a dozen times a day.

  ***

  “It was a long day,” Royce complained to Hertha. “And I don’t imagine your day was any better.”

  “Your mother brought the kids cupcakes, so they brooded less after a tummy filled with Molly’s pastry.”

  Royce and Hertha embraced. Into her ear, Royce whispered, “I’m sorry you married a lawwoman.”

  “I’m not sorry. Royce I may be worried, and I tell you that. But I’m not sorry we’re together. Don’t ever doubt that. We can get through this.”

  “Did you hear from Bev?”

  “Although she’s worried about you, too. I have to say, her voice sounded a little relieved that Nick wasn’t the prime target.”

  “Please don’t mention what I’m going to tell you. She’s got enough to worry about. But Nick got a look at the man that tried to kill him. Our protection of Nick and the family stay exactly the same.”

  “Have you heard back from the K-9 team about finding a dog for the Hogan family?” Hertha inquired.

  “Nope, good dogs are hard to find.” Royce patted Chance.

  “I haven’t had any luck with support dogs, either. We’ll find a dog for them before Nick is released, if not before,” Hertha vowed.

  “I’m beginning to wonder if we’re ever going to find the shooter, and his Mimic Maiden.”

  Hertha asked, “Still nothing on the Mimic Maiden?”

  “Nothing on nothing. When I heard Nick’s conversation with the killer, it did eliminate some of the suspects. It certainly exonerated Kirk. I’m betting he’s the victim. And Mimic Maiden and her partner are the shooters. We’ve released photos of Mimic Maiden. We’ve released both her voice, and his voice. Forensics hasn’t pulled up a thing on the fingerprints and DNA. Which means she probably hasn’t been convicted of any crime.”

  “Don’t be discouraged, Royce. I know you want this case solved. For Nick. And you will solve it. Be patient.”

  Royce moved away. “I’m going outside to go help the kids exercise the boarding dogs. Maybe do a little cleanup of the yard for them.”

  “You really want to go out there and pick up poop?” Hertha chided.

  Sighing Royce answered, “At times that job is far superior to my profession.”

  “You just reminded me,” Hertha said as she smiled. “Today when I paid them for their help, they handed it back to me. They want their money to go to Nick’s hospital bills. I’d talked earlier with Gwen, and she said maybe she can suggest that the county consider a collection for any funds that won’t be covered by Nick’s benefits.”

  “Most will be. But it’s good of the citizens to help. And Nick’s rehab, well, we won’t know how much work will need to be done. But the doctors believe that there will be some. No matter what, he’ll be cared for. His community loves him.” She’d seen collection jars with money stuffed in them all over town. In almost every store. Before Royce could tear up, she went to the door. “I’ll be out with our kids. They’re very good-hearted. I’m blessed.”

  “We’re enormously blessed.”

  Gathering in their gaze across the room at one another, they each concurred.

  Chapter 10

  Royce had arrived at the hospital first thing that morning. Although she’d left Ted behind, without telling him she was leaving, Royce drove to the hospital. Bev had called the night before to tell her that when Nick came out of the anesthetic from his surgery, he seemed slightly coherent. He attempted to talk with her, and she said he recognized her. She sounded so hopeful.

  When the sheriff approached Nick’s room, it was with trepidation. If Nick was conscious, what would Royce say to him? How could she apologize for his taking bullets meant for her? Royce felt a terrible sickness. She watched as a nurse organized the tubing winding to his arm.

  “How’s he doing today?” Royce inquired.

  “About the same. Bev spent most of the night awake, hoping he’d continue coming out of the coma. She went home to see the kids and said she’d be back soon.” The nurse smiled, “He’s certainly shown some improvement. The surgery was minor, but in his condition, I’m certain it was more difficult than it might have been. Had it just been a shoulder wound there would have only been one concern.”

  As the nurse was leaving, Royce thanked her. She sat beside Nick, and reached for his hand. She hoped he would awake. Become lucid. And talk. She missed talking with Nick. Now, this made it different. She wanted him awake to tell her if he recognized the assailant.

  But also, she surveyed her own thoughts. She wanted to have what he called a crime gab. They would sit together and evaluate suspects. Plot possible scenarios. She suddenly felt alone. Tears filled her eyes. She and Nick would take suspects one by one. Each on their list would get a thorough inspection.

  Listing the witnesses, Ron and Mandy, first, Royce put a strong equivocal ‘no’ beside their names. She determined they were the witnesses and the assistants to Nick’s recovery. Wyatt, had nothing in his makeup that might make him a killer. The men at the vagabond jungle – Duffy, Spuds, and Claude – they were possible, with Claude being the primary probable. She would tell Nick that she didn’t believe they would have tried to kill. Claude would have been the only suspect Royce might distrust. But it didn’t feel right that his place was on the suspect list. He was angry, uncompromising, and mean at heart – but he was most angry at himself. And, she added to her list, he would have committed the crime, and left. Run, that was his M.O.

  Richard, not a good typecasting for a killer, to be sure. But mostly because he was a showman. He would tip his hat at any surveillance camera within a country mile. And his past showed nothing but a good guy. Bart Newton was a bully and a drunk. Newton’s villainous, contemptible spirit spoke for his cowardly self. Drunk, he very well might have murdered.

  The phone call on Nick’s cell phone seemed to clear them all. The voice d
idn’t match. Royce felt silence, and her heart felt empty. Nick and she were always one another’s sounding boards. She felt alone.

  ***

  When Terry and Beverly arrived, Royce was leaving.

  “I hope he didn’t wake up when I was gone,” Beverly said as she hugged Royce in the entryway. “I want my face to be the first he sees when he fully awakens.”

  Royce choked back her greeting. “Bev, I think he sees your face all the time. And no, he didn’t wake.”

  “Well, he should see either your face or mine. He called you an office spouse.” Bev laughed. “I’m optimistic that he will regain consciousness today.” She leaned over Nick, and whispered, “We’re here.” To Royce she said, “I had to see the kids. They miss Nick so much. Sara keeps saying her dad is the strongest dad in the world. But she’s breaking apart inside. Andy always tells me he misses how Nick teased him, and he knew he was brave.”

  Royce uttered, “He’s right. His dad is a man of unwavering integrity and courage.” Hesitating, the sheriff became glum. “Bev, I’m sorry about my being the target, and him taking the call. He took my bullets.”

  “Royce, you know better than that. You and I both know that he would have taken an entire arsenal of bullets for you. And you for him. But on the call, he almost forced himself on the shooter. You weren’t to blame in any way.” She paused, then gave Royce another hug. “Don’t do this to yourself. Right now, you’ve got the bull’s-eye on your badge. You’ve got to think about taking every safety precaution you can. Please. Nick would not want you to feel badly. And he certainly wouldn’t want you dead.”

  As a deputy came through the door, he motioned to Terry. “I have the next shift with Bev,” he stated. “And Sheriff, we had a little overlapping. Deputy Sam asked if Terry could ride with you for a couple hours? Then drop her off and pick up Deputy Ted?”

  Terry grinned her agreement. “Tell Sam that he’s taking advantage of me.”

  Royce chuckled. “Really? I was guessing he was taking advantage of me.”

  Their laughs blended, then Terry and Royce walked briskly to the vehicle. Terry, with a giggle, divulged, “Sam has already taken advantage of me.”

  “And you love him in spite of that?” Royce asked.

  “Royce, he asked me to marry him.”

  “Oh. Did you say yes?”

  “Neither of us wants to leave this county. We both love our jobs. It would be impossible.”

  Royce contemplated a moment. “Just don’t decline Sam’s ultra-generous offer until I check for loopholes in the fraternization regulations thoroughly. I don’t want to lose either of you. I’ll talk with Mayor Gwen to see if she can’t come up with something. She’s smart, wily, and devious. And she’s a romantic.”

  ***

  Royce and Terry had driven to Timber City and parked directly in front of the County Courthouse. Once they were secured in the Sheriff’s Department office, they got to work. They checked every capital murder case that Royce had worked over the years.

  Prisons were listed, and Royce perused them. “Terry, many of these people have had a great deal of wealth. In most cases, monies were spent on court battles. First lawyers and expert testimony. Etcetera. And if any was left, usually a civil case was brought by victim’s families. However, I’m sure in some cases the perpetrators have stored several million, or what they could, in a slush fund.”

  “The rich don’t part with their money easily,” Terry commented. “Most of us are thinking revenge, and paying by a second party for that revenge. Avenging for a crime they committed. Hired guns come very expensive, or very cheap.” She paused. “Usually the cheap one gets caught and spills his story all over the testimony cage.”

  “I’ve pulled eight cases that are most likely to fit into the hitman category. We’ve checked out all released prisoners. So, the payer is most probably in prison at this time. Maybe if we check out the friends and associate prisoners of the incarcerated killers, they might be the payee. It needs to be a recent release. It’s a long shot, but if we locate a possible recently sprung buddy, that buddy might have knowledge of gangland. Someone who might have hitman training, slash, experience.” Royce suggested, “If so, we can get the prison to monitor the calls of the eight most likely, we might come up with the one behind it all.”

  “After that, where do we go?”

  “Terry, since we’ve done a cursory check on releases, maybe we should go right to the next tier. Checking men with a relationship with one of the eight. Check and see if we can come up with a ‘pal’ that had a transfer and or was released a few weeks ago.”

  “Good plan.”

  “Maybe if we talk with the warden of each of these prisons, we can get a list of a few of the guards familiar with each man. Talk with them. From there maybe we may be able to exclude a few. Winnow down the group.”

  Terry agreed, “It certainly would help to have fewer suspects.”

  “We’re not getting anywhere quickly. Maybe being more on the offense, will help us. As it stands now, we’ve got girlfriend/Mimic Maiden with enough moxie to dirty the license plates and wear a disguise, but not enough brains to take her DNA-smudged cigarette with her. And she left a set of prints. But they lead nowhere.” Royce opened computer files. “Forensics hasn’t had a hit on either. She might have a clean record. In that case, since the card went through, she might have been confident that the Drop-On Buy wasn’t going to catch it. The ashtray, and cigarette would have been thrown away.”

  “It was good of Virginia Kern to help out. I didn’t take her for a Miss Marple fan,” Terry said with amazement.

  Enlarging the vehicle photo, Royce squinted as she examined the plate. “It was a help to us. Not much of it has given us anything. Wait a minute.” Royce continued enlarging the photo. “I’m seeing the uplift of a mountain range. At the top of the tag. Mimic Maiden has a Colorado license plate. Or the plate she stole is a Colorado plate.”

  Terry rushed around the desks, and leaned to see the computer. “Definitely a mountain ridge. The mud lifts around the numbers and letters.” Terry went back to her desk and sat.

  “At least we know it’s a Colorado tag. One more Colorado connection. But I guess that’s all we know about it.”

  “Sheriff, we know one other thing. Mimic Maiden is as dumb as we originally thought.”

  Royce laughed. “It’s going to be a long afternoon, and evening. Will that upset Sam if you’re late for dinner?”

  Terry giggled. “One of the qualities I most like about Sunshine Sam is that he is never upset.” Terry worked on the computer a minute, then stopped. “In fact, he may bring us some dinner. And I’ll test his ‘never being upset’ by inviting him to help us out.”

  “He is so sweet, except when he orders me to have a guard.”

  “Royce, he adores you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t worry about you.”

  “There is that.” Royce sat back, shutting her eyes to rest them. “There must be a thousand files that strike with each of our searches. I’m sure Sam will offer to help us.” Grinning, Royce said, “You remember when you first met him, and you called him Howdy Doody because he was so cheerful?”

  “Let’s not mention that to him.” Terry winced. “He did know I wasn’t fond of him because he was too happy.”

  “And now?” Royce quizzed.

  “He gives half his cheer to me, so he’s toned down some.”

  Chapter 11

  The early morning was cool, but the sun’s bright appearance forecasted a warm day. After breakfast, Hertha went to her surgery, and Royce watched the children playing with seven dogs outside in the exercise area. When Hertha had the boarding area built, she wanted to be able to provide a place for the dogs to play. And the children.

  “I see there are two newbies hanging out today,” Royce commented.

  “Yes, little Milo is the white toy poodle. He’s very smart,” Antero said. “The labradoodle is the black-colored puppy with some brown in her coat, and she’s named Grac
ie. These pups are being really good with the other five boarders.”

  “They all look happy to me,” the sheriff said as she reached down to greet Milo and Gracie. “Have you taught Gracie how to shake hands?”

  “Paw and hand,” Vannie corrected. “Yes. I think she already knew that command. She’s really smart, too. And she minds.”

  Hearing the radio so early alerted Royce to a problem. Anything minor would wait for Royce to walk across the street to the Sheriff’s Department. “Wanda?”

  “Royce, a 10-18. Emergency response. Possible homicide. Woodchuck Road, left on Lake Front. It’s the road left of the cliff. It’s where it leads to the hidden part of the lake. The shoreline.” Wanda rushed, “A fisherman spotted the back of a dark colored truck. It was immersed in the lake.”

  “I’m leaving now. Please call Forensics, in case. Get medical, a tow truck and equipment for recovery. And we’ll need a diving team to check it out. Have them check for a body inside the vehicle interior. If the emergency trucks get there first, they’ll need to be careful about tying off the truck, when they pull it to shore.” Royce was hoping, against her guess, that there would not be a body interred in the cab. But she feared they would find Kirk Dillard’s remains.

  The siren blared the entire fifteen-minute trip. As Royce pulled up to where she saw a Jeep, she saw a man on the shore. He was waving. Cautiously, Royce drove until she saw it was a local man named Malcom. Stout, jovial, and a sportsman, Malcom was in is sixties. His shaggy hair hung from his baseball cap.

  “Sheriff, I was getting ready to cast, and thought I saw a triangle sticking up. Went back to my Jeep to get my binoculars. Hell, it’s the bed of a truck lifting. I ‘spose as the waves a rockin’ it made it move.”