“I said 'start.' That means we'll be limited but there are some things we can do. If you'll recall the CID inventory list, we have one very good microscope. We also have a highly trained criminal scientist on staff. I say we take a crack at ourselves,” Beau said.
“Works for me,” Marcus said.
Beau reached into his boot and produced his hunting knife.
“This ought to get the job done,” he said as Marcus put on gloves.
“You cut, I'll roll,” Marcus said.
They both stepped gingerly around the spot of carpet they wanted. Beau inserted the knife and lifted the carpet with the blade. He drug the blade smoothly for about four feet. Marcus lifted the carpet and held it taut while Beau cut about six feet toward the threshold of the door. He then repeated the two steps and Marcus rolled it up. He tied it tightly with a piece of nylon rope from his bag.
Beau picked up the remnant.
“So you knew Haley way back when,” he said.
“Yeah, like I said she's the same age as Cooper,” Marcus said.
“What was she like then?” Beau asked as he wrapped the carpet with four-ply clear plastic.
“Pretty much like she is now. Her personality really hasn't changed,” Marcus said.
“You said she was a basketball player?” Beau asked.
“Yeah. Point guard. Real firecracker on the floor. She's a competitor; really hates to lose — kind of like you. Why the sudden interest in Haley?” Marcus asked as he taped the plastic.
“Just curious. We talked quite a bit at Chet's the other night and again last night. She's extremely intelligent,” Beau said.
“She talk about her mom and dad?” Marcus asked.
“Some. It's still painful for her and likely always will be,” Beau said as he loaded the wrapped carpet in the bed of the truck.
“Well, she trusts you. She doesn't open up to many people. But if she does, you won't have more loyal friend,” Marcus said.
“That was my impression too,” Beau said, leaning against the bed of the truck.
They got in the truck and closed the doors. Marcus pulled out and started back to the CID Office.
“It's none of my business but I couldn't help but notice something between you two this morning. And I mean something more than just partners talking,” Marcus said as Beau looked away at the streets.
“She was quick to offer an explanation as to why you were late. I've arrested people who were forthcoming like that. And you backed her story up well but I know you both. Again, it's none of my business. But for what it's worth, you two are good for each other,” Marcus said.
“We have a lot in common,” Beau said.
“Yes you do. The biggest thing is a void in your lives. She would fill the one in your life to perfection. And you'd do the same for her, “Marcus said.
“She is very special. I've never met anyone quite like her,” Beau said.
“I thought you two would either hit it off or hate each other - you're that much alike. I'm just happy you don't hate each other,” Marcus said.
“I think we can safely say that,” Beau thought but said nothing.
“You don't have to worry about me saying anything. It's not my place. I figure if and when you want people to know, you two will say something,” Marcus said.
“I appreciate it,” Beau said, confirming Marcus’ suspicions.
Marcus walked into the office first. He noticed Haley's eyes and how they brightened when Beau followed him in with the carpet piece. No doubts now, he thought.
“Any news?” Beau asked.
“Not yet. Is that carpet?” Haley asked.
“Your idea Sherlock. Tell her,” Marcus said as Beau put the roll if carpet on the table.
“We have a state of the art microscope. We have the necessary chemicals. And we have you. Can we test the fibers on this?” he asked, patting the plastic coating.
Haley looked at him sideways and offered a crooked grin.
“You want to start a mini-lab,” she said.
“Anything we can do here will speed everything up,” Beau said.
“We can check finger prints, test fibers and other non-organic materials, and analyze most chemicals. It won't be Scotland Yard but it will beat waiting several days for TBI — they're overworked already,” Haley said. Her excitement was evident.
“Hey, I'm not knocking it. If you want to turn this old barn into a theater, I'm all for it,” Marcus said.
Haley giggled and started getting chemicals out of the cabinet.
“What can I do?” Marcus asked.
“Get the microscope out. We'll need a box of gloves. And see if there are any safety goggles in that cabinet on the left. Beau, see if you can dig up a magnifying glass somewhere in here,” she said.
They started putting supplies on the table. Marcus saw Beau rub her hand ever so briefly and the twinkle in her eye when he did. He looked at the two of them.
“I need to run to the little detective’s room. Don't start without me,” Marcus said.
When he left, Beau reached over and took her hand.
“There's something I need to tell you,” he said. “Uh, I haven't said a word but Marcus, uh, knows there's something between us more than just work.”
“What was his response?” Haley asked, more than a little concerned.
“He's actually fine with it and promised to say nothing to anyone until we decided to,” Beau said.
Haley looked relieved.
“You know...if he wanted to say something to Chelsea, I would be cool with it,” Beau said.
“To Chelsea? Yeah, sure. I feel the same way,” she quickly agreed.
“If we, uh, go any further...together, we do need to talk about letting people know,” he said.
“I agree. But just to be clear, clarify 'go any further',” Haley said.
“I mean a relationship,” Beau said.
“I know this isn't the time or place, but how do you feel about that?” Haley asked.
He opened his mouth to answer when Marcus came back in.
“We'll talk about it later,” she said quickly and he nodded.
“Did I interrupt something?” Marcus asked.
“Not at all,” Haley said.
“And you don't have to walk on egg shells around us. We don't want this to be weird for any of us,” Beau said.
“And we're not even sure what it is — if anything — is that fair to say?” Haley asked Beau who nodded.
“Yes,” he said.
“But if you want to talk to Chelsea about it, feel free. We trust you,” she said.
“Look, you're adults and you don't have to explain anything to me or anyone else. I've already told Beau, it's none of my business but I think you two are good together. And I'll throw in some unsolicited advice. You both need to think about that before deciding anything else,” Marcus said.
They both nodded. Haley touched Beau's hand and he gave it a quick squeeze.
“We'll talk later. I promise,” he said.
“Now, let's try to solve a murder,” Marcus said.
“Or two,” Haley added.
The e-mail alert dinged on Haley's computer a split-second before the other two computers.
She stepped to her computer.
“Looks like we have the preliminary autopsy on Savanna Brooke. Give me a second and I'll download it,” Haley said as Beau stood over her right shoulder and Marcus stood over her left.
When the document opened, all three started reading.
“No shock on cause of death - she bled out from the wound on her face,” Marcus said.
“She was raped. Three broken ribs, broken nose, four teeth knocked out. Severe concussion - explains why she never came to before she bled out,” Haley said.
“Initial tox shows no drugs in her system,” Beau said.
“For all practical purposes, she was beaten to death,” Marcus said.
Haley's e-mail dinged again just before the other two.
&n
bsp; She opened the multi-page and scrolled line to line.
“We've got some DNA results from the Brooke house. DNA on her body from semen, blood, and skin match Bob Tackett. He's the killer,” Haley said.
“Check the other DNA evidence. The stuff from the fancy underwear,” Beau said.
“Tackett...and unknown Caucasian male?” Haley asked in surprise.
“Uhhhhh...I got nothing,” Marcus said.
Beau's mind was spinning.
“I know is a disgusting question but were the two samples on separate underwear or was it...shared on the same pairs?” He asked.
“Ewww, that's sick,” Marcus said.
Haley scrolled through the document.
“It's shared on each pair,” she said, again in surprise.
“Is there any DNA from any other person — like maybe Savanna Brooke?” Beau asked.
Haley looked at the screen a few more seconds.
“No. Just those two samples,” she said.
“That asshole Tackett was gay?' Marcus asked.
“I'm not sure gay is the word. Bisexual maybe?” Haley asked.
“At least there's no doubt he was an asshole,” Beau said.
“That's true,” Marcus said.
“We know Tackett was the killer was and we know he had a history of domestic violence. We just don't know what triggered this incident. Finding the unknown male might tell us what we need to know,” Haley said.
“Let's see if I understand this. We're looking for a closeted gay or bisexual male in rural Tennessee that might be complicit in the murder of a woman. Oh yeah, we'll wrap this one up real quick,” Marcus said.
“According to their co-workers there wasn't much interaction between Tackett and Brooke,” Haley said.
“I know and there was never a reported incident of an argument between the two. Of course they could have something going on in private and their coworkers wouldn't have known.” Marcus said. He noticed Haley and Beau looking at him.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Maybe we need to take a picture of Ms. Brooke over and let Mae Hatmaker take a look. If this women was ever at Tackett's house, she'll know. My guess is she could probably give us dates and times. And if we're lucky, might be able to give a description of a third party — such as an unknown Caucasian male,” Beau said.
“In the meantime we need to interview Laura Brooke. She's the next of kin that was notified. She's Savanna Brooke's older sister. Maybe she could give us some insight on her sister's personal life,” Haley said.
“Good idea. Hopefully she can point us in the right direction,” Beau said.
“This thing gets weirder and weirder,” Marcus added, “So I guess this means we're going to put off analyzing the carpet piece.”
“For the moment. We'll come back to it latter. For the moment, I want to you to go back over to Raven Manufacturing and question their coworkers again. Ask about any drinking buddies, guys he played poker or fished with,” Beau said to Marcus and then turned to Haley.
“I want you to go see Mrs. Hatmaker. I want to track down this sister. Maybe she can point us in the right direction. And I need to fill Chet in. I'm sure he can give us some insight to how to move forward,” he said.
Chapter Seven
Dal Raven's hand trembled as he reached for his glass of bourbon. The old man wasn't cold or afraid — age and disease had taken a toll on his body. If the trembling wasn't a telltale sign then the wheelchair certainly served notice.
The small balcony outside the kitchen wasn't the one he would have picked but he was happy to feel the fresh autumn air and sunshine just the same. Dal knew he wouldn't see many more — if any — Octobers.
“That was shrewd. Damn time you put that bastard Jefferson in his place. I've let a lot of shit go over the years but I can't abide paying off an ungrateful politician. Sticks in my craw,” he said.
“And sets a piss-poor example to the others we pay. I simply couldn't let it slide. Besides, the look on his face when I told him was priceless,” Gene said as the old man guffawed and coughed.
Dal reached for a cigarette and flipped the top on his 24k gold Zippo lighter. Still coughing, he lit up. “Gene! Why?” Jack yelled as he walked out onto the balcony with Cyprus in tow.
“Why what? And keep your voice down,” Gene said.
“I just heard,” Jack said angrily with his voice a few octaves lower. “Did you have it done?”
Gene looked at his brother. He saw the tears of rage in his eyes — a habit that he had unfortunately carried over from childhood.
“Did I have what done?” He asked.
“Did you have Savanna killed?” Jack said above an outraged whisper.
“Who?” Gene asked, which served to only further enrage his brother.
“You know damn well who!” He shouted and then noticed the stares from those on the grounds below. Jack lowered his voice again.
“You know who I'm talking about.”
“Is that the woman...she's dead?” Gene asked in mock surprise.
“Don't act like you don't know,” Jack said.
“Jack, slow down and tell me what you're talking about,” Gene said.
“Savanna was murdered night before last. The cops think your buddy Bob Tackett did it. Don't tell me you haven't heard. Don't you realize what you've done?” Jack asked.
“That's the murder he was suspected of committing?” Gene asked in shock.
Jack merely glared at him.
“I-I had no idea. You knew Bob and his history with women. You know what he's, was, capable of. I was never able to control him,” Gene said.
“Who is this woman you're talking about?” Dal asked.
“She was a friend of Jack's,” Gene explained.
“Oh. Some woman you were screwing. Must've been some piece of ass to get you this worked up,” Dal said.
“Jack, I didn't know. This certainly changes things. I won't speak at the funeral and I'll issue a press release condemning Bob. I can't undo what he did but I'll damned if I reward him with the respect of this family,” Gene said.
Jack though not fully satisfied, calmed down somewhat.
“I want to go to her funeral to represent the family,” he said.
“That's a fine idea. I'll go too if you'd like,” Gene said in an attempt to calm him down.
“She worked for us. Her family deserves some form of compensation,” Jack said.
“And they'll get it. You name the amount and I'll take care of it,” Gene said.
Jack was breathing easier and his voice returned to normal.
“I'll let you know,” he said.
“I do have a question. What did you mean when you asked me if I had known what I had done?” Gene asked.
Jack suddenly fumbled for words.
“It's just...Savanna was different. She liked to keep souvenirs,” he said sheepishly.
“What are you saying Jack? Did she have something that could tie you to her?” Gene asked, his own anger rising.
“Maybe. Possibly souvenirs. I don't know,” Jack admitted.
“What kind of souvenirs?” Gene asked.
Jack fidgeted silently.
“What kind of souvenirs?” Gene repeated.
“Underwear, okay? It was her thing. She had a whole collection. I don’t think she ever saved mine but I can’t be sure,” Jack said, embarrassed to share the kink of his dead lover.
“Damn son,” Dal said.
Gene's face was turning redder by the second.
“And you let her?” He asked.
“Maybe we send a team in and recover the...items,” Jack suggested.
“You mean send a highly trained group of covert operatives on a...panty raid?” Gene asked as Dal guffawed again, which brought on more coughing.
“You think the police haven't already taken them? Use your head. It's evidence,” Gene said.
“It was just a thought,” Jack said.
“Is there anything else she might have h
ad that could connect you two?” Gene asked.
Jack shook his head.
Gene rubbed his temples. So much for the beautiful day.
“D.C.,” he said.
Cyprus stepped up.
“If the cops grabbed his...underwear, what would they do with it?” Gene asked.
“If they did and I would assume so, they have likely already sent it the crime lab in Knoxville. They might even have test results,” Cyprus said.
Gene nodded.
“That's my guess too. All we can do now is hold our breath and hope,” Gene said.
Jack stood up and walked away.
“Come with me,” he said to Cyprus.
When they were out of earshot, Jack turned to him.
“This can't keep going. Make the call. Move things up. It has to happen no later than tonight,” he said.
“That's a tall order on short notice. I'm not sure if I can swing that,” Cyprus said.
“I don't care what it costs. Make it happen. I'm sick of being treated like the village idiot,” Jack said.
Cyprus looked back and saw Gene waving his arms in an animated conversation with Dal. He faced showed no sign of his true feelings. Some people thought money could loyalty. They were so wrong.
***
Beau sat in Chet's office. He had just finished updating him concerning the Brooke case.
“Maybe between the three of you, one will find a loose thread for us to pull to unravel just who is the unknown Caucasian male,” Chet said.
“I'm going to meet Ms. Brooke’s sister at the funeral home. She's eager to talk to us. If it will prove helpful remains to be seen,” Beau said.
“Would you mind if I tagged along? I'm not trying to look over your shoulder, honest,” Chet said.
“You're more than welcome and besides, I wouldn't blame you if you were lookin' over my shoulder,” Beau said.
“You drive,” Chet said.
They chatted about the case on the short drive over to Goode's Funeral Home.
“I noticed Haley left her car at the courthouse last night,” Chet said.
“Yeah. We got back from Knoxville so late I took her on home and gave her ride this morning,' “Beau said truthfully. He simply did not define the type of ride he gave her.
“I figured as much. I've had to make those kind of trips with Lonnie. We did the same thing more than once,” Chet said.
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