The Killer in Me

by Winter Austin

  “I think this is more sophisticated than that.” She walked past a table with an open cardboard box. “We’ve got Tyvek suits over here. And masks with ventilators.”

  “Did they happen to label their names in them?” Rafe asked.

  She held up one. “Nope.”

  Joel cleared his throat. “Um, you should come see this.”

  The other three wandered over to his position in front of a shiny metal door.

  “Oh my God,” Lila said, her gaze meeting Rafe’s. She dug out a glove and donned it. She tugged on the handle; the latch popped and a blast of cold air escaped as she pulled it open.

  Among the cold food items, stacks of metal racks, and cases of beverages and pills, the body lay in a fetal position.

  “Meyer, it’s time to call the sheriff.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  He was right where she expected him to be. On his throne, surveying his kingdom.

  Elizabeth weaved her way through the bodies of The Watering Hole’s Friday night crowd. Marnie was nowhere in sight, which meant no detour from Elizabeth’s objective. And that objective was sipping his whiskey, watching her advance.

  “Well, if it isn’t our illustrious sheriff. Sit, have a drink with me.” He set the glass tumbler on the table and smiled.

  “I’ll pass on the drink.” She grabbed a chair from an empty table nearby and tossed it backrest-up against the table, then straddled it. “But I’ll sit.”

  A salt and pepper brow lifted. “The news has been interesting the past few days.”

  “It has at that. And yet, wherever I turn, your name keeps coming up.”

  He lifted the whiskey bottle and poured a finger in his tumbler. “Does it?” The bottle thunked down on the table. “Wonder why that is?”

  “Yes, I do wonder.” Elizabeth adjusted her seat, stacking her arms on the top of the chair. “Daniel Kauffmann.”

  “What about him?”

  “How did he die?”

  Sheehan calmly sipped, his cold eyes staying on Elizabeth.

  “Maybe the better question should be, why did he die?”

  Staring inside the glass, he swirled the liquor. “You know how he died. You have the reports.” His gaze flicked up to Elizabeth. “And there is no why. It was a tragic accident.”

  “Ma firmly believes that it was not an accident.”

  “She’s a mother who can’t get past her grief and wants to lay blame at someone’s feet instead of facing the facts.”

  “And what facts are those?”

  One corner of Sheehan’s mustache lifted. “That she’s a terrible mother and her children are nothing more than the trailer trash she brought them up as.”

  “Harsh.”

  “Truth.” He leaned forward. “You’ve stepped into a dark world, Sheriff. If it’s not your speed . . .?” He swept his hand across the table as he sat back. “Well, you could always relinquish your position.”

  “Not on your life.” Elizabeth straightened. “What would lead her to think Pratt Meyer has anything to do with Daniel’s death?”

  Silence met her inquiry.

  “What is your connection to the Meyer and Kauffmann feud?”

  More silence.

  “You’re just full of answers, aren’t you?”

  With a smile, Sheehan brought up the tumbler once more.

  “Neva McKinnley was killed.”

  The glass stalled. His smile faded and the flinty look in his eyes turned dark. “How?”

  Vindictive, greedy, arrogant, and a dirty cop all best described Kelley Sheehan, but the crooked man had a soft spot for people like Neva. Elizabeth had spied him assisting some of the long-term residents of Eckardt County by bringing them meals or groceries or even providing a ride to their doctor appointments. Whether it had been for selfish gain or actual kindness, no one but Kelley knew.

  “Someone was invited into her home last night, and as payback for her hospitality, threw her down her basement steps. Broken neck and cranial fracture leading to a brain hemorrhage killed her. God only knows how long she lay at the bottom of the steps before succumbing to her injuries.”

  His tumbler slammed onto the tabletop. “Enough.”

  Elizabeth blinked at him.

  “I won’t play your game, Elizabeth.” He gathered his bottle and glass and stood. “You wanted this job, and you got it.”

  “Yes, I got it. As I promised during my campaign, I will expose the corruption left unchecked all those years.” She stood, meeting him eye-to-eye. “You will answer for your crimes, Kelley. And I will be the one to make certain of that.”

  “Sheriff.”

  Sheehan’s eyes flicked to her right, and then he smirked. “Duty calls.” He exited his alcove.

  Elizabeth turned to Lundquist. “What is it?”

  “We have another crime scene.”

  *

  Joel arrived at the edge of the timber on his four-wheeler.

  “What are you doing here?” Damn it. First, dealing with Sheehan’s nonanswers. And now this. Joel was not supposed to be here.

  He idled the engine and rose up on the running board. “Simmer down, Ellie. Rafe asked to use the ATVs.”

  “And you felt the need to blackmail him by letting you come along.”

  “Right now, you have a major homicide scene to process. Picking a fight with me is the last thing that needs to happen.” He patted the seat behind him. “Get on and let’s go. Brent can come back and switch with Kyle.”

  Lundquist, standing next to the squad car, waved her on. Fitzgerald was supposed to come this way and stand guard. DCI would be here as soon as they could, but it sounded like that wouldn’t happen until morning.

  Anger spiking through her, she mounted the four-wheeler behind her ex. Joel eased down between her thighs, and kicked the throttle into high, then swung the ATV around and back into the timber. Elizabeth tried to maintain her balance, but the constant rocking and weaving forced her to grab on to Joel’s waist.

  “You don’t have to go so fast,” she yelled over the sound of the engine and the whip of the trees as they blew past.

  “I’m not going that fast. Besides, you need to get there.”

  “This is all kinds of not legal for you to be involved with this.”

  “Consider me an honorary deputy.”

  She pinched his side.

  “Careful, Sweetness. We don’t need an accident.”

  “I don’t care if you have more expertise than all of my deputies combined. I can’t afford to have a lawyer destroy evidence at the scene if it was compromised by a civilian.”

  “I won’t get in the way.”

  “I’m holding you to that.”

  He jumped the four-wheeler over a divot in the earth and rooster-tailed debris from the ground. Adrenaline surged through Elizabeth’s veins. Such a macho display. Yet no matter how old she got, she still loved the thrill of action. She was the crazy woman still climbing onto the wildest rollercoaster rides and throwing her hands skyward, screaming for the thrill of it.

  Moments later, Joel slowed the ATV and pulled into the square of light spilling from the open bay doors of the Morton shed. He parked the four-wheeler beside its mate and killed the engine. Joel swung his leg over the handlebars and hopped off first, holding out his hand for Elizabeth. Sighing, she took it and allowed him to help her off the four-wheeler.

  Leaving him sitting on the ATV, she strode to the open bay doors. Elizabeth came to a hard stop at the edge of the cement flooring.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  Deputy Dayne turned.

  “What the hell is this?”

  Covering her mouth, but not before she caught the smile her deputy tried to hide, Dayne cleared her throat. “Umm, well, it’s a meth lab.”

  “I can see that.” Elizabeth gestured at the rows of cooking equipment. “This is not your typical meth lab. Those are usually in mobile trailers. Or run-down houses. Abandoned buildings.”

  “Yeah, typicall
y.” Lila hooked her thumbs on her duty belt. “It seems whoever has been cooking the meth here made major, and expensive, upgrades. This is high-grade stuff. Someone has invested a lot of capital behind this.”

  “Who has that kind of money? No one around here would be able to invest in a facility of this caliber.”

  “This whole place would beg to differ.” Lila jabbed her thumb toward the back of the building. “Sheriff, you need to see this.”

  She led Elizabeth to the part of the building where Meyer and Rafe were standing guard beside a closed shiny metal door.

  Lila gripped Meyer’s shoulder. “Head back to the cars and wait for the ME. Make sure we have a way to get the body back there.”

  The younger deputy nodded and headed off to do Lila’s bidding. Elizabeth tamped down the golden bubble expanding in her chest. She’d made the right choice in appointing Lila Dayne.

  “Keep that up, and he’s going to be working with you a lot.”

  Pulling on a glove, Lila shrugged. “He’s eager to learn.”

  “He’s clicking with you.”

  Rafe made a disturbed noise in his throat. Elizabeth swung a glare his way.

  “You and I are going to have a long discussion about your choices.”

  “I’m no more happy about having to grovel at Joel’s feet,” Rafe remarked. “Besides, I’d rather he be here than someone else. At least we know he can keep his mouth shut.”

  Leave it to Rafe to hit the nail on the head. She could be angry until the cows came home about Joel being here, but he could be trusted to stay mum about the whole ordeal, and his involvement. He wasn’t a secret Delta operative for the fun of it.

  Lila popped the handle on the door and swung it open. Cold air hit Elizabeth full in the face.

  “Could this have been where Regan’s body was held?”

  “It’s a possibility.” Lila pointed inside the walk-in cooler.

  Elizabeth entered the cooler and pulled up short when she spotted the body. “Who is he?”

  “We don’t know,” Rafe said.

  Rubbing her forehead, Elizabeth studied the young man curled in the fetal position. “He’s going to be fun to get out of here and into the ME’s van.”

  “Dr. Remington-Thorpe might have a good idea on how to accomplish that,” Lila said.

  “Do you think he’s been dead as long as Regan?”

  “Maybe longer. Maybe shorter. It’s going to be hard to tell.”

  Groaning, Elizabeth about-faced and exited the cooler. “Both of you get on finding out who he is.” An idea hit Elizabeth. “Deputy Dayne, get a photo of his face and track down Dillon Reed. See if this was the man he saw in the car with Maya.”

  “Worth a shot. We might want to check with the Wagners too.”

  “I’ll do that,” Elizabeth said. “They were supposed to meet with me in the morning.” She grimaced. “Crap, what time is it?”

  Rafe checked his watch. “Seven thirty.”

  “Well, county council is going to be mad I didn’t show up.”

  “Let ’em,” Lila said, taking her glove off. “We have more pressing matters.”

  “Knock, knock.”

  Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth stalked out to the middle of the building. “Joel, you’re not supposed to be anywhere near this building.”

  “I get that, Ellie, but you have a visitor.”

  No one was with Joel. Elizabeth scowled. “Where are they?”

  He beckoned her outside. Stalking out of the building, she followed him to the darkened edges of the timber. He held up a pair of binoculars with night vision.

  “Look a bit to the north.”

  She did, scanning the horizon until her sights caught what he pointed out. A figure lingered near an indescribable shape. A vehicle of some sort. Elizabeth tried to focus the binoculars to get a clearer image, but it didn’t work.

  “I can’t make out who and what is there.” She lowered the binos and held them out to Joel. “Get it to look better.”

  “That’s as good as it gets.”

  “What is it?” Lila asked.

  “Someone is out there watching us, but I can’t make out who it is.”

  “Then we go get him,” Rafe said.

  “It’s too far away. By the time you’d get there they’ll be long gone.” Joel lifted the binos. “They can see us, and they know we see them. Whoever it is picked a good spot to stay unnoticeable.”

  “It’s probably someone involved with running this meth operation.” Elizabeth turned back to the Morton building. “And they’re going to alert the big man in charge. They’ll pack up shop and move somewhere else.”

  “They might already have another lab squirreled away somewhere else in the county or in the next,” Joel pointed out. “You do remember how much of the land is made up of timber and state parks.”

  “I’m well aware of what’s in my county, Joel. Deputies Dayne and Fontaine, when Lundquist gets back here, bag and tag everything we can. Once Olivia takes over the body, we can begin the process of identifying him.” She faced her ex. “Are they still there?”

  “Looks like they’re leaving.” He lowered the binos. “You need to contact Iowa’s drug task force for this.”

  She sighed. “In the morning.” She wagged her hands at her deputies. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us. Let’s get going.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Day 4: Saturday

  Lila and the other deputies were running on fumes by the time DCI arrived. After a drawn-out argument with her ex-husband, who left only when she pleaded with him to go take care of Bentley, the sheriff had sent everyone off on their respective errands.

  Lila and Meyer made a beeline for the nearest gas station to fill up the car and grab their own refueling needs. Once they had that accomplished, Lila set him on the path to find Dillon Reed. They were grungy, dead tired, and both badly needed a shower, but duty trumped personal hygiene.

  “I know where we can find him on a Saturday morning,” Meyer said as he pointed the car toward Juniper.

  “In a bed somewhere sleeping off whatever fun he had the night before?” Lila bit into her hot egg and bacon on an English muffin.

  “He wishes.” Meyer tore into his breakfast sandwich.

  Washing down her food with a gulp of milk, Lila swiped a napkin across her mouth. “You going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?”

  He smiled. “Maybe I’ll just take you there and you can wait.”

  “Meanie.”

  “I aim to please.”

  While he drove to town, they finished their meal, followed up with a less-than-stellar cup of gas station sludge. Meyer passed the just-waking retail district of downtown Juniper, waving at a few store owners who had flipped their signs to open, hung a hard right past the courthouse, and headed straight for the north side of town.

  Lila double-checked her battery level on her phone. It would make it a while longer before going critical.

  Meyer directed the car through a rougher neighborhood. The majority of the buildings were from before the turn of the twentieth century. Some of them looked ready to cave in, while others showed signs that the citizens were trying to make a go of keeping them up and running. Most of the area homes and business were darkened, the owners not ready to rise and shine, sleeping off their preferred form of poison.

  Outside of town limits, Meyer slowed the car and turned onto a gravel road. He drove a mile before turning onto a gravel lane. The lane led them to a set of barns and a large fenced-in pen. A handful of horses milled about in the enclosure, steam rising from their backs in the cold morning air. The animals lifted their heads and watched as the squad car approached.

  Meyer parked next to a barn with an open door and cut the engine. He nodded at the building. “He’ll be in there mucking stalls.”

  Lila glanced at the barn and then back to Meyer. “He works as a stable hand?”

  “He doesn’t have a choice unless he wants to get a whipping he’d like to for
get. His father owns the property and people board their horses here. But his father is rarely around.”

  “What does the father do?”

  “A little of this, a little of that. Mostly he drives semis. On the road all the time. Dillon Sr. isn’t trifled with. He might act like a slacker, but he expects more out of his kid.”

  Lila grunted. “Not how the sheriff and the principal made it sound yesterday.”

  “The Reeds are a take ’em as you see ’em.”

  “I’ll say.” She grabbed the handle. “Be ready to grab him if he makes a run for it. He tried to outrun me yesterday.”

  “I doubt he does it again today, now that he knows who you are.”

  “Right,” she said as she exited the car.

  The horses tracked her progress across the barnyard. When she stepped into the open doorway, they continued on with whatever it was horses did.

  Lila was greeted by the pungent odor of manure, urine, and the sweet scent of dried grass. She listened for signs of Dillon. It came with the scrape of metal against wood followed by the sight of debris flying out of a stall and into a wheelbarrow sitting in the middle of the aisle. She wandered to the stall and jumped back as poop and soiled wood shavings sailed in front her.

  Peeking around the edge of the stall wall, she found Dillon with his back to her, earbuds in, and shovel in hand. Staying back out of the way in case he flung a pile at her, Lila waited for him to turn. Dillon lifted the laden scoop, turned, and looked up as he went to toss his new load. He saw her and yelled. The shovelful fell short of its target, flopping on the stall floor and on the aisle.

  Yanking out his earbuds, he glared at her. “What the hell? What are you doing here?”