A Critical Tangent

by Reily Garrett

  “I’ll confirm Shelly’s identity later today.” Grief bore Franklin Harock’s shoulders down.

  Despite the husband’s protests, his wife insisted on seeing her daughter as soon as possible. A small precinct and the scheduled afternoon autopsy dictated they make arrangements after the detectives left.

  Mrs. Harock’s vengeful side appeared in spades before the ultimate question. The one Nolan anticipated, yet hated most, for nothing was certain in any investigation until all the facts coalesced to form a complete picture.

  Her husband’s handkerchief received a fresh round of tears as she blubbered out, “Do you have any idea who would hurt my little girl?”

  “As of yet, no. We’ve just begun our investigation,” Nolan replied. “Can you tell me about her close friends?”

  The mother appeared to be the teenager’s closer bonded parent, judging by the multiple family pictures on the side table and several of the built-in bookshelves. In each, the young girl had slung her arm around her mother’s shoulders, pulling her in for a tight hug.

  It was the husband who spoke over his wife, consoling her with an arm around her waist. “Yes. Her closest friend is Gabby. Uh, Gabriella Kiernan. The girl’s parents are family friends. She’s a pre-med student.”

  Mrs. Harock hiccupped before adding, “We lost our other daughter to a climbing accident. She and Shelly were very close. Gabby had joined them but Shelly backed out once she saw what the climb entailed. She’s always blamed herself for not protecting her sister and not been the same since.”

  “Hon,” Franklin rubbed his wife’s shoulders, “any child would go through a rough patch after experiencing—that. If not for her friends, she might have traveled a different path.”

  After jotting down notes of other friendships, Nolan stood and ambled to the bookshelves. Picking up a silver-framed photo, he pointed to the two girls on either side of the now-deceased coed. “Who are these girls?”

  Harock narrowed his eyes and thinned his lips. “The one on the left is Gabby. The one on the right is Keiki Tallerman. She’s not as close as Shelly’s other friends. They’ve grown apart a bit since entering college. Keiki is a little older.”

  His declaration drew a confused frown from his wife. “Franklin, those three girls are thick as thieves. Always have been.”

  The father scraped a hand down his face then rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe. Since Shelly started college, we’ve been a bit out of touch. I do know Keiki is a serious student and not one to do the party scene. She’d be the one to go then make friends with the dog.”

  “Keiki works for us, part-time. I believe you’d call her a mechanical prodigy,” the mother added. “She and Shelly wanted to go into the drone business.”

  “Tell us more about Gabby and Keiki,” Coyote requested.

  Details spilled from the mother, less so from her husband. When a familiar name popped up in conversation, red flags waved in Nolan’s mind. Coyote spoke first.

  “Keiki works part-time for Nick Tucker? Two part-time jobs and full-time college courses. That must keep her busy.”

  “Yes. You see, her folks died after she graduated from high school, a carjacking just outside Philly. I don’t think she’s healing. She’s never been able to let it go, insisting police couldn’t be bothered to find the killer.” A certain wistfulness graced her features. “We knew them well. They were fully invested in their daughter and enjoyed a close relationship.”

  “Gabriella Kiernan is the same way with her folks,” Franklin added.

  “Are drones a part of your day-to-day operations?” Nolan asked, observing Harock for variance in mannerisms.

  “Not yet, but they will be at some point,” he replied without blinking, flinching, or sweating.

  Nolan studied the photograph of three girls dressed in ski clothes, smiling for the photographer. Each appeared a carefree teen out for a good time on the slopes. With one viciously murdered, the other two would suffer the ripple effect through time and circumstance.

  “Mr. Harock, considering the nature of the attack, do you have any reason to believe it was directed at you or your business? Maybe a rival company?” Nolan met the father’s steady regard.

  “Possibly. My biggest competitor is Cannon Manufacturing. That bastard has sent several headhunters over the past few years.” Fisted hands against his suit pants outlined his anger. “He wants to go international, from what I understand.”

  “So, he’s trying to keep up with you. We’ll look into it,” Coyote affirmed.

  “It’s remarkable how much Shelly and this other girl, Keiki, look alike.” Nolan’s light touch outlined the older girl’s face. The eyes had a slight exotic tilt along the outer corners and were lighter. Even among friends, she radiated an intensity older than her years.

  “When they were younger, they used to imagine themselves twins, changelings, and all sorts of fanciful things.” Mrs. Harock sniffled and wiped another trail of tears from her face.

  Further details revealed little pertinent information. Departure of the two detectives left a fast-crumbling relationship in their wake.

  “Jesus,” Coyote murmured as he descended the elegant steps. “I feel like the bolas spider that sends out sticky globs of silk to catch its prey.”

  “Crime doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It’s a matter of asking the right questions to the right people—and sometimes a little luck. If we don’t ask, we don’t get the necessary information.”

  Coyote sighed after dropping into his seat and shutting the passenger door. “This isn’t going to be easy. And not because I lack your city experience.”

  “This situation is complicated by many variables. Did you get the sense the father is hiding something? Wealth always brings complications.” Nolan grimaced. He’d dealt with a high-profile murder in a larger jurisdiction and endured the foul taste of money-induced interference for his effort. Current small-town politics wouldn’t withstand the battering of an enraged millionaire.

  “He did seem to prefer the one girl stay out of our crosshairs. You think he’s got something going with her? Seemed a little touchy with some of your questions.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time an impressionable kid got mixed up with a shark. I want to do some background checking before we talk to either of her friends.” Nolan guided the SUV back toward the station, his thoughts replaying the conversation and mulling over possible motives.

  “He tried to protect Keiki, yet we have no clue why. I was kind of surprised he refused to let us borrow the photo.” Harock had started to object, then shut his mouth when Nolan raised a brow.

  “Protecting his golden goose?” Coyote suggested.

  “It’s possible his daughter learned something, somehow, and it made her a target. But, I can’t imagine either parent covering for the murder of their own child. There has to be something else to this we’re not seeing.”

  “It doesn’t wash.”

  “Yet.” Nolan smiled in humorless anticipation.

  “The mother was a lot more forthcoming despite her shock, what with Shelly and Keiki wanting to open up a business. The daughter’s other friend sounds like a live wire, type A adrenaline junkie. Jeez. What is the world coming to? The next thing you know, we’ll have to investigate midair collisions and theft using mechanical spiders.” Coyote retrieved his notepad from his jacket and flipped through the pages.

  “Think about it. What PI wouldn’t want a licensed drone operator doing surveillance for him? And what better operator than the person who makes the drones?”

  The SUV responded to acceleration with a throaty growl, eating up the miles on the near-deserted back roads. Heat from the sun spilling through the windshield thawed some of the dread filling Nolan’s gut.

  Coyote started a running commentary and review of the interview, which allowed them to bounce ideas and possible scenarios off one another. “Shelly was a business major and Keiki made the drones. Seems like a pretty tight relationship to me, yet the father played
it down when you picked up that picture. Did you see him grimace when you used your phone to take a pic?”

  “Yeah, but I can’t see a motive in there. You?”

  “No. One thing I did notice, he doesn’t care much for his competition,” Nolan suggested.

  “We can check out Cannon’s background before making an appearance and asking questions. Let’s go grab something to eat first.”

  “Sounds good. I could use some shrimp and sausage stew.” Coyote tucked his notes away and twisted toward the onboard computer, digitally entering Pennsylvania’s DMV.

  “Those two foods don’t belong in the same sentence, much less the same pan together. And for the record, there are tons of electronic devices you can use to take notes if you’d care to join the twenty-first century.”

  “Yeah, but notepads can’t be deleted with the push of a button or a virus. ‘Sides, it irritates the hell out of you, which makes a minor inconvenience more than worthwhile.” Coyote’s grin said it all. “You know that’s what I live for.”

  Nolan glared until his partner chuckled. “You are a complete douche.”

  “Nah, there’s still some parts missing. I think it has something to do with one of my relatives, a skunk ape from the glades.”

  “Let me guess, it lives near the Fountain of Youth?” With a sigh, Nolan shook his head.

  “Actually, it’s rumored that he visits our famous underwater hotel to give guests a scare now and then.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve my sisters, I don’t care,” Nolan grumbled as he veered west toward his partner’s favorite watering hole. Boundless drive trapped him between the ridiculousness of Coyote’s oddities and an eternity of strict, if companionless, self-discipline.

  Chapter Three

  Nolan opened the door and preceded Coyote into the station. The musty smell of cinderblock and stale coffee never failed to unsettle his stomach. He should’ve been accustomed to it by now. “It didn’t sound to me like Cannon has a clue about Harock’s R&D, much less have the stomach for that kind of foul play.”

  “He did outline the plan to go global. Considering the focus of his expansion, I can’t see how drones could fit in. You?”

  “No, which means he was either lying or he’s simply not involved,” Nolan agreed.

  Coyote’s throat clearing caught Nolan’s attention as they entered the open expanse and working area of the squad room. “Crap.”

  “Incoming, three o’clock.” Nolan grinned. The early warning alerted the other detective sitting at his desk. A quick glimpse and smothered smile sparked recognition of entertainment to come.

  “Insufficient funds,” Coyote grumbled.

  Code speak for lack of swear words made Nolan chuckle harder.

  “Hi, guys.” A long black ponytail swept side to side as the young lady advanced, a determined smile set in place.

  Graduating from college with a degree in public relations slotted her into position as the public face of Middleton PD.

  Her father being the mayor may have helped create the position, but she’d proven a quick study and near genius at composing news stories, articles, and various periodic and special purpose reports for both their department and the sheriff’s office. During quiet times, she supported the office staff with whatever help they needed.

  Nolan inwardly chortled but kept his smile rigid. “Hey. How goes it with PR today?”

  It had also became apparent during her first weeks of employment she had a thing for a specific senior detective. Nolan had hinted at the reason behind his confirmed bachelor status. The young woman then switched her focus to the younger detective.

  Continued pursuit created an awkwardness for Coyote he didn’t seem capable of handling.

  “All’s good.” In a theatric whisper she added, “I heard about the woodland murder. I wanted to get some details to start writing up the news release. If you let me know once her identity has been confirmed, I’ll contact the press.” Her soft inquiry came with a breathy sigh and a light touch to Coyote’s arm.

  “Thanks, uh, we’ll let you know sometime this afternoon.” Coyote bit his lower lip as if trapped and looking for a way out of his predicament.

  “Are either of you in the 5k Foam Glitter race tomorrow? I was thinking about going but didn’t want to run it alone.” Her words trailed off with a hopeful smile. “I don’t know if my old class mates are gonna be in it.”

  “No, I’m not. But I think Nolan is gonna run.” His partner patted him on the shoulder, a hand off of responsibility.

  “Actually, I’ve got a date.” Nolan grimaced. If hard pressed to come up with a name, he’d fail.

  Beside him, his co-worker choked out, “Plastic or rubber? We’re taking bets on you jogging in flip-flops to remember the sound.”

  “I’m going to hell, and it’s going to be populated with cops.” There wasn’t enough lye to scour the conversation from Nolan’s mind.

  “Since there’s only a stairway to heaven but a highway to hell, I’m thinking you’ll have lots of company. You are planning on going with the flow, the mass exodus, right?” The southern detective had a knack for turning things around.

  Nolan took his seat and swiveled away to face his desk.

  Ignoring taunts frequently came with the bonus of increased effort.

  By Monday morning, a variety of printouts from online adult sites would populate his desk with emphasis on bulk and liquidation sales. Unlike others who flaunted every conquest, Nolan preferred to keep his private life just that. Private.

  It wasn’t the age difference which kept the younger detective from asking the CSI tech or office staff on a date. The former still viewed the world with rose-colored glasses and the latter, well, she didn’t have Jenna Garnett’s red hair and freckles.

  Few memorable events in their moderate-sized town made little things gossip-worthy. Dating the secretary would earn his partner a scheduled dinner with the mayor, his wife, and their three Rottweilers.

  Nolan glared at the person whose desk butted lengthwise against his own, daring him to comment on dating or anything sexually related. “I’ll take Keiki, you take Gabby.”

  “Only in your dreams, but I guess there’s always hope.”

  Nolan considered the fastest way to wipe the smirk off his partner’s face while his tower booted up. Putting road kill in his bed wouldn’t revoke his man card. It would have to be a stellar prank.

  “You should never have focused her attention on me.” Coyote stifled his grin. “She’s young, moldable… right up your alley.”

  “Shut up, or I’ll put chocolate pudding in your whoopee cushion. It’s you she’s after now.” He needed to make his partner see the light. “She works with us every day. That makes her off limits regardless of her parentage.” Nolan entered the password to get into the state’s database. He preferred to start general and broad, then narrow his search in bits so as not to miss any large informational chunks on his target.

  Something about the way Franklin had tried to protect Keiki didn’t sit well. If the kid had a romantic involvement with the business mogul, it would muddy a lot of waters and complicate the investigation.

  “See, this is the nice thing about college kids. They put their lives on social media.” Coyote pulled out his pad and paper to take notes. When farther into the case, he’d add them to their intranet, holding back specific information until they’d either closed the case or declared it unresolved.

  Nolan poked and prodded through each database before scrutinizing the girls’ social media platforms. The mental picture of Keiki coming into focus formed divergent pathways in his thoughts.

  One, the serious student with top grades and workaholic nature. On the other, less public side, she hung out with two partygoers and carved a series of giant S-shaped swoops and tight turns on her snowboard, or—

  “Oh, hell.”

  “What?” Coyote paused his research to look up.

  “There’s a picture of the three girls with Nick Tu
cker. Looks like they’re socially involved, too.”

  “Doing?” His partner refocused on his own work.

  “Skiing.”

  “So? The girls hang out with a slightly older guy. I thought you’d found photos of a group orgy.”

  “He’s immature and impulsive.” On Nolan’s screen, two blondes and a brunette flanked a stocky, dark haired man, all wearing snow gear and holding snowboards or skis.

  “Can’t say I know much other than rumors.”

  “He’s local, though several years behind me in school. I got the sense he was a bit of a hound dog but harmless just the same. I lost track of him after he graduated from the academy. Once he left the force—he kinda fell off the grid. I don’t think he’d be involved with anything underhanded though.”

  “People don’t usually change that much unless there’s a significant instigating factor,” Coyote reminded him.

  “He’s got a private investigator’s license, and I’ve got a bad feeling about this. There are too many coincidences to not add up to—something.” Nolan flicked through Shelly’s social media pictures but found none with just her and Tucker. “I don’t think Shelly was the focus of Tucker’s intensity.”

  Not with the way his gaze is fixed on Keiki.

  Time passed with a series of “Ums,” and “Ahs.”

  By late afternoon, they’d exhausted online resources and received a call from the ME, the parents having confirmed the victim’s identity.

  “Next stop—see what we can find on campus. We might have better luck tracking the kids tomorrow morning while they’re sleeping off hangovers.” Coyote rolled his chair back and stretched his arms over his head.

  “Fine, an early Saturday morning it is. I’d like to get in touch with a few of Shelly’s professors, too.”

  Nolan had found and watched the video of a tragedy which would’ve cleaved any kid’s world. Sketching details clued his partner in.

  Shelly’s friend, Katherine “Keiki” Tallerman had become an orphan just before starting college. When the state’s investigator informed her all leads in the investigation had been exhausted, the teenager assaulted him. No charges were filed due to the kid’s overwhelming grief and the detective’s lack of injury. That scenario would’ve sideswiped her world in ways not anticipated.