He raised his head and looked down at the pink robe he was wearing. “I can’t go like this. All I have is the stuff I wore for the funeral, and that’s hardly appropriate for a Sunday morning in a parking lot.”
“Relax.” She patted him on the head, making him wince. “We can swing by your place on the way so you can get changed.” She smiled and walked off. “Maybe you should pack a toothbrush for tonight, too?” She wiggled her ass as she swayed into the kitchen.
“Okay.” He smiled. “But I’m having a dip first.” He stood up, dropped the robe, ran bare-ass naked across the patio and dove into the pool.
***
It hadn’t taken them long to get to the theme park. After they had stopped at his apartment, Maria seemed possessed as she aggressively drove through the traffic. They flashed their badges to the toll attendant at the main entrance, who waved them through without hesitation. She drove straight to the Pink Flamingo parking lot and stopped in the exact spot she had stopped on the night of the murder. With some hesitation she turned the engine off and stared at the tarmac where Coop had lain.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” She nodded, and continued to look at the spot.
“Okay, so what are we doing here?” He looked around.
Without saying a word, she reached over to the back seat and grabbed her laptop, then exited the vehicle. He followed, and they walked around to the front of the car. She opened the laptop and placed it on the hood.
“Okay,” she said, pointing at the screen. “The crime scene report is on here. Read it out while I walk through it.”
He studied the report for a second. “The white van was parked somewhere there.” He pointed at an area.
“It was exactly here,” she corrected him, and placed herself in the spot.
“Okay.” He picked up the laptop and started walking with her. “Coop was over here, and the perp was slumped up against the van over here.” He marched over to the point where the assailant had been found.
“Forget the report for a second. What do you think happened?” she asked.
He moved back to the car, placed the laptop on the hood and turned to survey the scene. With his arms folded, he stared at the area where the van had been.
“I think I agree with the report.” Then he paused for a moment. “Yeah, the report makes sense to me. Coop comes around the front of the van and finds the kid struggling with the shooter. He pulls his piece.” Moving around the scene, he began to re-enact what he thought happened. “The perp already has his gun out and panics, putting one in Coop’s chest.” Pretending to be Coop, he drops to his knees, clutching his chest with one hand and holding an imaginary gun with the other. “As he falls, he squeezes one off and hits the shooter. He slumps against the side of the van, but manages to get another one off, hitting Coop in the heart. Then, who knows; either with his last ounce of strength or out of sheer instinct, Coop fires a final round, hitting the bad guy in the head.” He stood back up, putting his hands on his hips. He surveyed the scene again. “Yep. That all ties in,” he said confidently.
“That does make sense, except for a couple of things.” She walked around the scene. “There was a definite delay between the second, third, and fourth shot.”
“But that’s not in the report,” he said.
“I know. I only remembered yesterday. There was a delay then I heard Coop say ‘what the fuck are you doing?’ and a ‘shhh’ before the third shot. Then there was another delay when Coop said, ‘Oh God, not you’ before the fourth and final shot.” She stopped again as she surveyed the surrounding area.
“He might have said ‘what are you doing’ when he saw the perp taking aim at him again,” Travis reasoned. “Then he might have recognized the guy when his cap came off.”
“No.” She stopped him. “Look at the position of the body, and look at where Coop was.” She rushed over to the car and brought the photos up on the laptop. “See, the way the perp was found? There is no way Coop could have seen his face from the angle he was at.”
He studied the pictures closely, then looked at the scene. “You have got a point there.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “You know, the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that I heard footsteps and faint rustling after the fourth shot.”
“You mean like paper rustling?” he asked.
“No. Trees or bushes,” she replied.
“So maybe, and I’m only saying maybe, if your theory is right, then perhaps the ‘second shooter’ headed for the bushes over there.” He pointed.
“Why there?” She looked at the area he was indicating.
He looked around at the scene, then back at the tree line. “Well, you have to figure that the sound of rustling wouldn’t travel that far, especially over a phone, so that seems the closest place.”
She scanned the scene one more time. “You should be a detective, with logic like that.”
“I did think about taking the test, but it would just be my luck to get lumbered with a partner with a terrible sense of humor.” He winked at her and started walking towards the area he had pointed out.
“Very funny. You’re a funny guy.” She glared at him as she followed. “I take it back; you would make a better comedian than a cop.”
When they reached the edge of the bushes, he stopped and looked along curbstones.
“What are you looking at?” she asked.
He raised his arm to silence her while he studied the line of shrubbery. He bent down and peered into the darkness behind the greenery, then pointed into the undergrowth.
“This area has been disturbed, look.” She bent down next to him. “See, there’s broken twigs where someone has pushed through here, and indentations where someone has stood.”
She looked at him with genuine curiosity. “Are you part Navajo?”
“What?” He looked at her, puzzled. “Oh, I see what you mean. No, I was a boy scout. Plus, I’ve done my fair share of hunting in my time. These are classic tracks.”
“Okay, Pocahontas, I believe you.” She frowned.
Dismissing her comment, he pointed to the right. “Looks like whoever was here headed in that direction.”
“Okay, let’s follow the trail.” She pushed past him.
“No, wait.” He stopped her. “Stay behind me. We’ll stay to the left of the trail so we don’t disturb any evidence.”
They set off, carefully examining every inch as they slowly walked to make sure they hadn’t missed anything.
“I think I have something.” Travis bent down.
“What is it?” She peered over his shoulder and saw what looked like a discarded latex glove covered in blood.
He edged closer, craning his neck to make out what the object was. “Looks like a mask. A pig mask.” He looked back at her and nodded.
“Okay, I’ll call it in,” she said, as she reached for her phone.
“Yeah. Come on, let’s get out of here before we contaminate something.” He paused. “Hello… what do we have here?” He pointed at the ground a few feet away from the mask. “That is a very clear footprint.”
“Let’s move. The CSIs are going to want to make a cast of that.” She edged backwards, retracing their steps carefully.
The midday sun was far too stifling to be standing around in, so they waited for the forensics team to arrive in the refuge of their air conditioned vehicle. Travis was going over the file from the slaying, and also the original crime scene pictures when he came across the one of the dead shooter.
“Did they ever get the name of this guy?” He held the photo up.
“No. Another one that’s not in the system.” She sighed. “It’s pissing me off.”
“What is?” he asked.
“The growing amount of people not in our system.” She frowned. “I’m not buying that this guy has not offended before.” She took the photo and studied the bloodied face.
“You know, the other mystery guys have turned up on my wall o
f shame,” he said, looking at another picture taken from a different angle. “It might be worth looking on there.”
“Good idea,” she said, sliding the snapshot back into the file. “You get on that when we get to the station. I’m going to shove a rocket up someone’s ass in the tech department.” She looked out of the window as she saw the CSI van turning into the parking lot. “About time, too.”
He returned all the documents to the file and they exited the vehicle. The van came to a stop a few feet away from them and a very disgruntled-looking CSI Palmer got out, followed by two junior investigators who didn’t look too pleased, either.
“Good afternoon, Palmer!” she called over as the forensics expert opened the rear doors of the van to retrieve his kit.
“It was, until you two called.” He slammed the door closed. “This had better be good. What are we doing here?”
“Sorry, but we found something,” she said.
“We went through everything here, so what’s new?” He looked annoyed that his work was being questioned.
Travis pointed to the undergrowth. “Detective Hernandez remembered hearing something while she was on the phone.” He started walking to the bushes. “We took a look over here and found a pig mask and a clear footprint.”
“A discarded pig mask? In a theme park?” He looked disbelievingly at the detectives, who stopped and turned to face him. “You called me out on a Sunday to retrieve a fucking pig mask in a theme park?” His anger was obviously growing at the insinuation that he hadn’t processed the scene thoroughly. “Do you know how many of these masks these places sell? Thousands of them every week!”
“Not covered in blood!” Her tone was aggressive. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to his whining any longer. “Now quit bitching and do your fucking job.” She pointed at the bushes.
Palmer signaled with his head for the other two CSIs to follow him, and silently they walked over to the designated area.
“You really are a people person, aren’t you?” Travis said, squinting at her.
“Fuck him. This is about Coop. He should be bending over backwards, not whining like a baby.” She was almost shouting.
When they got to the edge of the shrubbery, Travis stopped and pointed to where they had entered the undergrowth. “If you look here, this is where we spotted the damage, indicating this was the entry point.”
“Thank you, Running Bear,” the CSI sarcastically said. His underlings sniggered.
“He used to be a scout,” Maria teased.
Travis scowled at his partner, who just smiled at him, then turned her attention to the forensics team. They had started photographing the area and placing marker cards by spots they found most relevant to their renewed investigation.
“Just to let you know,” she told them, “we stayed to the left of the trail so as not to disturb anything.”
“Okay, thanks.” Palmer nodded to his two-man team to take either side of the trail.
With their cameras ready, they entered the undergrowth and began photographing and collecting evidence. The detectives waited, peering over the bushes at the activity.
After what seemed like an eternity for Maria, Palmer returned holding a clear evidence bag aloft. “I apologize, Detective. It looks like your instincts may have been right.”
“Accepted.” She nodded. “What do you think?”
“Well, this isn’t the usual tat they sell in these places.” He brought the bag down to examine the contents. “This has been custom-made, by the look of it.”
“What? Why would anyone custom-make a pig mask?” She asked the question more to herself than anyone else.
“There are some freaky bastards out there. Your guess is as good as mine,” he answered. “There’s something else.” He held the bag towards them so they could get a closer look. “Someone was wearing this when they were shot through the head.”
“What?” she said in disbelief.
“The main blood spatter is on the inside of the mask.” He pointed at a shredded part of the latex. “I’m guessing this was caused by a bullet exiting the head and passing through the mask.”
She looked at the ground and frowned as she went into deep thought. Then she suddenly snapped out of it. “I think I can save you some time on the DNA match.” She looked at Palmer. “I’ll put money on it that the blood belongs to Hector Tobin.”
“The guy from the alley?” The forensics expert looked surprised.
“Yes. He’s not in the system, but he’s on file in his office.” She nodded to Travis.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” he acknowledged. “I’ll run a test against his corpse and get back to you ASAP.”
“Okay, what now?” Travis asked.
“Well, the boys are taking a cast of the footprint. As soon as it’s done they’ll let me know the shoe size and try to assess a make on it.” He paused and looked at Maria. “Just to clear something up. Coop was a man I admired greatly, as a cop and a friend. If I can help in any way to bring to justice the person responsible for his death, I will. But please, don’t ever question my dedication again.” He turned and walked towards his van.
“Well, he told you,” Travis whispered.
“I guess so,” she whispered back.
The disgruntled CSI stopped and turned round. “One more thing, Detective.” Maria braced herself for another jibe. “Good work. Coop would have been proud of what you’ve done.” He continued to his vehicle.
She didn’t know how to take what had just been said to her. Mixed emotions of confidence and sadness washed through her mind.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Travis gave her a gentle pat on the arm and made his way to the car.
They were about to get in their vehicle when Palmer shouted over, “Hey, I forgot to mention. The cameras aren’t working in this area because it’s closed off to the public. But if the perp continued on that path,” he pointed in the direction he was referring to, “we might be able to get footage from down there somewhere. I’ll send my boys down there later.”
“Thanks, Palmer, good work. Call me when you have something,” she replied.
He gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement and disappeared into the back of the van. They got in their car and drove away. “I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day,” she said, as she looked at the forensics van in the rearview mirror. He looked around the parking lot, making a note of one of the signs.
“Stop!” Travis shouted.
She slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. “What?”
“Back it up,” he said with some urgency.
“Have you left something behind?” she asked.
“No, just back it up to the scene,” he insisted.
She put the car into reverse and backed up to the forensics van. Palmer must have heard them returning. He stepped out of the back of the van and stood with his hands on his hips, waiting for them to get out.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when they got out. “Did you forget something?”
Travis didn’t say anything. He marched over to one of the signs at the edge of the parking lot, looked at the ground, then at Maria. “Get the file from the car,” he ordered.
She looked at Palmer, who in turn looked equally puzzled. She shrugged, and got the file from the car. “Here.” She handed it to him.
He quickly scanned through the documents in the file and found what he was looking for. “You may want to take a look at this.” He handed the open file to them so they could see what he was so excited about.
“It says the perp’s cell had two text messages on it. More or less the same as the ones on Seaton’s cell,” she read aloud. “One about a pick up and the other a code.”
“Read out the code,” he insisted.
“P F dash R two six dash S one-one,” Palmer read out.
They both looked at Travis, slightly bewildered.
“P F.” He pointed at the sign depicting a pink flamingo. “R two six.” He poin
ted at the number twenty-six painted on the ground next to the sign, and walked to the spot where the white van had been parked. The spot where Coop had lain. “S one-one.”
“You really have got to be shitting me!” she gasped. “That’s the code!” She looked at Palmer. “Do you know what this means? This was a designated drop-off point for the perp to rendezvous with the killer and hand over the kid. Like last time, with Seaton.”
“This confirms there was someone else here then.” He nodded. “Detective Travis, you are a fucking genius.”
“Genesis!” she exclaimed. “Genesis is a person. And he was here.” Her eyes widened. “He killed Coop.”
“If you’re right, Detective,” the CSI said, “that completely dispels our shootout theory.”
“You’re damn right I’m right.” She grabbed Palmer by the shoulders. “Bear with me on this.” She positioned the CSI in the spot where the perp had been found, then positioned Travis in the spot where Coop had been found. “This is what I think happened.” She started to act out the scene. “Coop follows them and comes around the front of the van. He stops the perp from throwing the kid in the van. The kid bolts, distracting Coop.” She moves behind Palmer. “Genesis comes around the back of the van and pops Coop.” She quickly moves next to Travis. “Coop fires back as he goes down, hitting the perp, who falls against the side of the van.” She forces Palmer to sit down and goes back to Travis, pushing him down to lie on his back. “Genesis comes over to Coop, puts his gun in his hand. That’s when I heard him say, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ He tells him to shush, and fires at the perp, killing him with the head shot.” She leans over Travis. “This is when Coop recognizes Genesis. Genesis stands up and fires the last shot into Coop. After that he places his gun in the hands of the perp and walks off in the direction of the bushes.”
“If that’s the case, then a GSR test on the perp’s hand should tell us if he fired a weapon or not,” Palmer informed her as he got up.
“Was he tested for that?” she inquired.
“If it’s not in the report, then, no.” The CSI looked embarrassed. “I’ll get on the phone to the lab now and order a test.”
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