Red Tide

by Peg Brantley

  Jax smiled. “Get out of here.”

  Jax washed down the autopsy table. The negative pressure vents that surrounded it always reminded her of giant cheese graters, and she took special care to make sure they were cleaned thoroughly. The vents were designed to suck in anything that might be released into the air while they were doing an autopsy, and having four bodies in various states of decomposition on the table in the last couple of days, she wanted to make certain it was well cleansed.

  Finally, she walked out of the lab, divided her autopsy apparel into the biohazard trash, the hamper for laundering, and the bin for sterilizing, and moved toward her office to begin the paperwork. And call Jamie. Exhaustion settled over her shoulders in a good way. The precision with which she met the needs of her profession affirmed her. Jax wondered if she’d get a follow-up call from her not-to-be benefactor. She shook a little at the idea. What if he goes from a carrot to a threat?

  Her private line rang.

  “Dr. Taylor.” She squeezed out her name.

  “It’s me.” Jamie. “They called Gretchen and me back out to the site after I got off work. We’ve got two more, and Jerry wants you out at the site tonight.”

  “On my way.” Jax hung up and called the courier to reschedule the pickup for the next afternoon. They weren’t very happy, but it wasn’t like they were coming from Denver. They’d pick up the samples tomorrow and get them on a plane to Denver with very little skin off anyone’s nose.

  Jax grabbed her bag and wondered whether someone would be watching her exit the building.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Jamie hunched next to Gretchen, one arm around her dog, and watched Jax at work. She was proud of her sister and knew this had to be every bit as hard on Jax as it was on her. So many people had been murdered and then buried here. She imagined the soil a dark red with their spilled blood, their unfulfilled lives driving it deep. She heard the crack of the shovel against the earth as it split open a seam to hide the evidence of their abrupt deaths. The Earth Mother must have wept.

  Jamie believed everyone’s story had an ending. Even those who believe their stories continue long after their time on this earth ceases, have an ending on this side of heaven. There should be dignity in that ending, and something that marks it, even if only from a medical examiner. The End never comes for people and their families, when there isn’t proof. Men, women, and children who were simply lost never get that final good-bye.

  Jamie shivered. Why did the killer choose this particular meadow? Does he have a connection to Leopold Bonzer? And where is Agent Grant? Why isn’t he here making my job more difficult?

  Jamie’s phone rang.

  “Taylor.”

  “Jamie, I need you over here. I’m about half a klick due north of where you are.”

  “Sheriff?”

  “Now.”

  She stood, stretched her legs, and looked north. Other than an old logging road and a steep climb to get to it, Jamie could see nothing. She wondered why the sheriff needed her. Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good. She tugged on the lead. “C’mon, Gretch. Let’s take a little walk.” She looked at her sister. “Jax, Jerry Coble just asked me to meet him up the hill. You okay?”

  “As long as they leave these lights on. And tell Jerry these two haven’t been dead more than two or three days.”

  “What’s going on, Jax?”

  “Damned if I know. I’m not even sure I want to know.”

  Near the top of the hill, Jamie looked back. She could see the entire meadow. Moonlight shimmered like a fine mist through the high clouds, giving shape and life to the Cimmerian darkness beyond the illuminated work area.

  There was a bark and a low growl above her and to the right, and then everything went quiet. She took a step.

  “Jamie, that better be you comin’ up behind me.”

  “Yes, Jerry. It’s me.” She made her way carefully up the rest of the incline, Gretchen tight at her side. With slow, measured steps, she slipped up alongside the sheriff and waited for him to say something more.

  He pointed. About ten feet away was what at first looked like some large, broken logs leaning against the trunk of pine tree. She tried to see whether there was something else, something significant, in that direction, but her gaze kept returning to the pile of logs.

  Then one of the logs moved and let out a mournful howl.

  Jamie blinked. “Is that a beagle?”

  “Right now it’s acting more like a wolf hybrid. Won’t let me anywhere near it... or the two people it’s lying next to.”

  “Oh, dear God!”

  “Right. So between you and God, do you think you could manage to get Wolfgang out of my way so I’m not forced to commit dogicide in the line of duty?” He was trying to lighten the mood for her benefit.

  “I think we can handle this.”

  With a soft, smooth glide, purposeful but not threatening, Jamie moved out from behind the sheriff and knelt about eight feet away from him. She needed to distance herself from any perceived threat. Gretchen stayed put, but remained ready for action if she received a signal from Jamie. “Hey, sweet thing. You’ve got quite the responsibility tonight, don’t you? I know you’re in the role of protector and everything is different than it was not long ago, isn’t it? We’re here to help you, if you’ll let us.” Jamie moved a little closer.

  The beagle growled, but only for a second and the sound trailed off into the rhythms of the night.

  “You don’t have to be alone, you know.” Jamie signaled and Gretchen loped to her side. The other dog shifted and bared its teeth.

  Before Jamie could stop her, Gretchen rose and moved toward the pine tree and the beagle intent on standing guard.

  About five feet from the other dog, Gretchen slowed, her movements minute, as if she were seeking permission to approach. Then, as if blocking out movements for a game to come later, she walked forward, stretching out her front legs, her hindquarters in the air. She made a mewling noise and lowered her back end to the ground. Then she crawled like a soldier moving toward a dangerous target.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jamie caught her breath. To call out could unleash a primitive response from the beagle, and she wouldn’t risk Gretchen’s life. Instead, she readied herself to jump into the fray if necessary. For now—for this moment—she would trust Gretchen’s instincts.

  Within the next few seconds Gretchen came alongside the other dog, offering a mixture of understanding, condolences and protection of her own. The beagle backed away.

  Jamie stood, intent on keeping her posture and movements non-threatening, and edged closer. The beagle looked in her direction and she froze. Some sort of non-verbal communication pulsed between the two animals, and the beagle went prone on the ground in front of Gretchen.

  “Good girl. Thank you, Gretchen.” Jamie waited for a signal from her dog. She got it when Gretchen leaned over and licked the ears of the dog at her feet.

  Jamie moved slowly into the almost-visible ring that surrounded the tree, two dogs and the two unmoving forms at its center. She knelt well before she reached touching distance, then inched forward on her knees. She kept her tone soft and controlled. “I’m here to help. I’m not going to do you or your people any harm.” She reached her hand out, palm up, and let the beagle focus on her scent. A mournful cry formed in the beagle’s throat and sorrow filled the hillside.

  Jamie felt for a pulse on each body, but they were cold.

  “Sheriff, we’re good here, but you need to call Jax and get her up this hill.”

  “You’re sure, Jamie?” He’d already pulled out his cell.

  Jamie sat on the ground, one dog on either side of her. She gave both of them some of the treats she always carried in her pack. A little extra went to the beagle under Gretchen’s watchful and approving eye.

  Jerry Coble, arms folded, watched Jax examine the man and woman as best she could, given the circumstances. The sheriff had already brought a portable Klieg ligh
t up to the new site.

  Jax photographed the bodies from multiple angles and asked Jamie to diagram the scene for her. Tomorrow, in the daylight, the LEOs would do a thorough search of the surrounding area.

  When Jax retrieved the wallets she handed them to Sheriff Coble. He opened them and read aloud. “Brian Rawlings. He’d be... thirty-six. Boston, Mass.” He shuffled the ID and opened the other wallet. “Corrine Rawlings. Thirty-four. Same address.” His voice rang low and mellow on the mountainside, respectful and sad.

  Jamie watched as Jax continued her preliminary examination. She’d helped Jax study for hours before her exams. Her sister would carefully disrobe each victim enough to get their body temperatures rectally. She would determine livor mortis—where the blood has settled—and rigor mortis.

  Jamie reached over to the beagle’s collar and checked for a tag. “Well, hello Shelby.” At the sound of her name the beagle’s ears twitched. “What happened to you?” She scratched behind Shelby’s ears and the dog moved closer, pressing tight against her thigh.

  Time passed. Jax worked. Coble paced. Jamie thought about the families who were about to receive the worst possible news. Families who at this very minute were experiencing the last of what they would forever consider “before the call.” Everything else would be “after the call.”

  “I’ve done what I can here, Jerry. I’d say they’ve been dead between eight and thirty-six hours. Most probably about twenty-four. I can’t see any signs of external trauma, which ties them into the others. It looks like they asphyxiated.”

  “On what, if there wasn’t any external injury?”

  “I don’t know. Someone could have smothered them, but then there should be obvious signs of defensive wounds unless they were drugged in some way first. I want to get them back to my lab so I can do a closer examination.”

  “I’ve called for transport. They should be here in about twenty minutes. You two go on home. I’ll wait.”

  Jamie stood up. “I hope you didn’t call Animal Control.”

  “Nope. Knew better.”

  Jax packed her bag and Jamie brought out her spare lead. She thought Shelby would probably follow without a problem, but she might have some angst over leaving the two people she loved.

  Back where Rocky Point butted up against the dirt road, Jamie opened the back door to the SUV and Gretchen bounded in, then turned to make sure Shelby followed. The beagle struggled a little bit with the high jump, but she hit the floor first and popped up on the back seat like she’d been there before.

  Jax watched, then said, “James, I need to talk to you about something.”

  Great. Just great. Jamie already had felt the pressure for more money. She was going to have to put a stop to this at some point. But when? Tonight felt all wrong. “Can it wait until tomorrow?”

  “No. It can’t. Well, I can’t. Look, I know it’s late and we’re both tired, but this is important.”

  Jamie sighed. “Did you have dinner?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Let’s go to my house. I can get the dogs settled in, and I’m sure there’s something to eat.”

  “Thanks, Jamie.”

  “You bring the wine.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Nick did his best to settle into the seat of his chartered plane. They’d received clearance from the tower for takeoff and the jet took only seconds to pick up enough speed to be airborne. Regardless of everything that had happened, he was headed home.

  Home. Funny how Colorado had become the place of his heart so easily. He’d grown up on the east coast. He’d gone to school, made a living, joined the FBI and gotten married all on the east coast. Less than a year ago he’d moved to the Rocky Mountains, but that part of the country had laid claim to both his present and his future. Such as it is.

  He was going home, a father without his child and a law enforcement officer without authority. He was a recovering addict with a boatload of pills that held the potential to become his new drug of choice.

  In a few short days, he’d gone from thinking he’d never solve the case he’d been working on for a decade to actually getting closure for families to finding out he had a family of his own to losing everything. And mixed up in all of it was a tall, skinny woman with a man’s name and a bunch of dogs. And he couldn’t get her out of his head.

  The co-pilot ducked out of the cockpit and nodded in Nick’s direction, then moved toward him in the spacious cabin.

  “We’re clear, Sir. If you want to use any electronics, feel free. The attendant is preparing your dinner. Is there anything you’d like while you wait? A drink perhaps, or something more?” Her smile held a hint of promise.

  Nick was used to women coming on to him. He figured his looks were just a little above average, but his wealth wasn’t. It was easy to guess the attraction. The flags these women waved, the desperation or greed that drove them, made him tired, bored and cynical.

  “Thanks, I’m fine.” Except that right at this moment, you made me want a fistful of my oxy. You are a psychic vampire, ready to suck away every forward step I’ve taken.

  She turned to walk back to the cockpit.

  “Wait.” He flashed her the smile he knew could knock women over, bankrolled or not.

  She had already turned back and posed, smoke almost pouring around her body. “My name is Glade.”

  “Fine, Glade. I’d like a glass of zin. And a shrimp cocktail. And a copy of today’s Denver Post, which I was told you’d be sure to have on hand.”

  The co-pilot visibly stiffened. Her tone lost all the smoke and sizzle she’d previously displayed. “I’ll let your attendant know.”

  Glade, the co-pilot who thought she’d hit the jackpot, marched back toward the front of the plane, pausing to bark some orders to the young girl assigned to serve Nick’s meal. To Glade’s credit, as audible as the bark was, she’d turned the volume to seethe.

  Just because he was on medical leave from the bureau didn’t mean he no longer had something to contribute. He punched a number into his cell phone. “Arnold, it’s me.” Nick hoped Agent Abner wouldn’t ask him too many questions. With any luck, he hasn’t heard of my status.

  “Hey, Nick. What’s up? Anything to get me a prolonged stay in Aspen Falls?”

  “You fall in love or something, Agent?” Nick grinned at the sudden silence. He pictured the younger man’s face and bit the insides of his cheeks to stop from laughing. “Good for you,” he said. “A lot of good looking women in the mountains of Colorado.”

  “I only know of one, and that’s all I can handle.”

  “I’ve got ya, Buddy. One is sometimes more than enough. Listen, I need Sheriff Coble’s direct line or his cell.” Nick held his breath.

  “Yeah, hang on. I’ve got it here somewhere.”

  After Nick got the number, he gathered his thoughts. This would take a little more finessing. Arnold Abner thought Nick was pretty impressive, but Jerry Coble was his own man and was not easily impressed. And Nick needed to be back in the middle of this investigation.

  A few minutes later, Nick had secured a face-to-face with Coble for the next morning. He’d plead his case and make the sheriff an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  He kicked his seat back for a nap.

  An hour later his eyelids flew open. They should be getting close to Aspen by now. Nick set up in his seat and focused his hearing. Something was wrong. He’d flown enough of these jets as both passenger and pilot that a change in pitch was instantly noticeable. He ran through the possibilities in a few seconds, and he knew. One of the engines had cut out.

  He stood and moved to the cockpit, then hesitated. The sudden silence in the cabin meant only one thing—they no longer had even one working engine.

  Inside the cockpit the pilot and co-pilot had hauled back as hard as they could on the sticks, working to keep the nose up.

  “What can I do?” Nick asked

  “Pray,” the pilot said.

  Chapter F
orty-Four

  Nick lay still, his eyes closed. The smell of aviation fuel permeated the air, mixed with popping sounds. He was covered in electrical wires and other debris. When he moved his arm to clear his eyes and nose, pain shot through his back. Damn. Someone was shoving something off his legs.

  “Are you all right, Agent Grant?”

  The pilot. Nick spat dried leaves from between his lips. “I’ve jacked into an old back injury, but otherwise I think I’m fine.” He cleared dirt from his face. “The co-pilot and flight attendant?”

  “They’re both out, but I don’t see any signs of trauma. The emergency beacon is set, so we shouldn’t be too long.” The man stood up and rummaged through what was left of part of the overhead compartment. He pulled out a first aid kit and several blankets.

  “I don’t think we’ll have to stay here overnight. We’ve landed in some kind of pasture. But just in case, here’s a blanket.”

  “I’m fine. Put them on the others. They might be going into shock.”

  Nick reached into his pocket. Empty. He took one long blink and swallowed. It’s a new day, Gunga Din, and bound to get interesting. He sat up. Winced.

  “You know my name, what’s yours?”

  “I’m Steve Robbins. The co-pilot is Glade Lewis, and the attendant is Veronica Beale.” They shook hands.

  “We were only about thirty minutes out of Aspen when we went down. If the rancher doesn’t get here first, we should get some air support or ground rescue within an hour or so.”

  Nick nodded. “Do all of you live around here?”

  “Glade and Veronica both live in Glenwood Springs. I’m in Snowmass. You?”

  “Closer to Aspen Falls.”

  Nick was reminded constantly that people with money weren’t that big of a deal in the Aspen area. It was one of the reasons he’d moved here. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Veronica, the flight attendant, had more money than Nick and Steve put together, and just loved her job.