Nolan stepped in front of her. “Shut up, Tain.”
“Touchy, Nolan. You getting a bit fond of your new partner? Must have been really hard to spend the night without her.”
Ashlyn caught Nolan’s arm as he pulled it back. It took all her strength to hold it until some of the rage faded and the force of his pull waned, and she felt the strain on her muscles, the burning bite in her own arm beneath the bandages that remained. “He’s not worth it,” she said as she let go of Nolan and walked to her desk. As she sat down, she caught Tain watching her.
He grinned and walked out.
Nolan’s face was still red as he yanked his chair out from his desk and sat down. He pulled his coat off, reached for papers on his desk, then slammed his hand down instead. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
“What? Being harassed by him or excluded by you?” Nolan’s face cooled a touch at her words, and she almost regretted them. She drew a breath. “Look, if you let them know they’ve got your number they’ll keep dialing the phone.”
“Sounds like something my father said once.”
“Well, it’s something my mentor reminded me of when we talked this morning.”
“Ah, so that’s who you were talking to.” Nolan nodded. “Makes sense.”
Part of her wished she’d held that back. “And I told him more about what I remember than I’ve told you.”
Nolan wasn’t settling down to look through his messages. An energy was still coursing through him, evident since he’d exchanged words with Tain, and his head snapped up at her words. “Constable Hart, a woman has been murdered.”
She sat locked in a stare with him, willing herself to show that she wouldn’t be pushed around. He blinked and his eyes softened for a second, a small enough measurement of time to make her doubt what she thought she’d seen but long enough for her to falter in her own stance. Part of her felt guilty for not taking the leap and trusting him, but there was a spark of anger still smoldering within her over how Nolan had treated her and tried to play her just the day before.
He had to yield something first.
Tain marched into the room, his pace slowing when he glanced at Ashlyn and then Nolan. Ashlyn broke the stare with Nolan and looked down at the desk as Tain muttered, “Get a room already.”
Nolan was on his feet before Ashlyn had fully lifted her head, his chair clanging to the floor as he shoved Tain against the wall. “If you were anyone else, you’d never get away with your bullshit.”
“But I’m not anyone else.” Tain smirked. “Must be hittin’ pretty close to the truth to get you so worked up, Nolan. Your daddy may be a sergeant, but that rank isn’t high enough to protect you from an assault charge.”
“You sonofa—”
Ashlyn was on her feet and between them before Nolan could finish. She held his arm back again, her muscles burning in protest of the strain. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Nolan blinked as he squeezed his fists, his mouth drawn into a hard line. He took a step back, turned on his heel and marched out of the room.
“It’s really so sweet that you’ve got his back,” Tain said as Ashlyn turned around. “Or is it that he’s got yours?”
Ashlyn felt the sting of skin against skin when her hand struck his face. She stepped back and glared at Tain, and thought of the look she’d seen in Nolan’s eyes. It was a rage that didn’t just border on hatred but sailed right across the line. Nolan was convinced Tain had been bumped in because of the color of his skin, and Tain believed Nolan was being carried by his sergeant father. Ashlyn thought about what Steve Daly had said to her hours before. Of course, it made sense. Steve would trust the son of a sergeant, especially if he knew him. She thought of how Steve had reacted when she’d said Nolan’s name and almost couldn’t blame Tain for his assumptions.
None of it excused the level of animosity that had been allowed to build between them, but the blame for that lay at Sullivan’s feet. She’d seen enough herself to know that he seemed to give Tain a lot of latitude, despite not appearing to like him, and Sullivan worked closely with Nolan and gave him leadership opportunities.
A fact that probably only served to reinforce Tain’s dislike of Nolan, but none of it excused Tain’s behavior. She looked Tain straight in the eye. “You’re supposed to be an RCMP officer. Show up and do your job, and leave your attitude, your cheap shots and your inferiority complex at the door.”
Tain had a way of looking stone cold and immovable at times, with a depth to his gaze that could make you feel like he could read your mind. She’d felt uncomfortable when he stared at her that way before, but he was sporting a grin that he seemed to be trying to rein in, a grin that was suppressing a laugh. His eyes twinkled with an almost good-natured amusement.
“What’s so funny?”
“You slapped me.”
“If I’d known you’d find it so funny I would have smacked you a long time ago.”
“You found your backbone.” The smile on his face disappeared, replaced by a solemn look. “Maybe almost getting killed was a good thing for you. It didn’t work out so well for Winters.” He straightened up to his full height and looked down at her. “I heard you found Mrs. Wilson’s body today.”
She looked up at him but didn’t speak. He took a step closer, drew a breath as he glanced over his shoulder toward the door and then turned back to her. “You better watch your back, Hart. The only person on this team you know you can trust is yourself.”
“Like I hadn’t figured that out already,” she muttered. She walked over to her desk and stood looking down at messages and paperwork, trying to find something to focus on.
He moved toward her and touched her arm softly. “I mean it.”
She stared up at him. He hadn’t even appeared to respect her as a person, hadn’t given her a chance to prove herself as an officer and didn’t seem to give a second thought to making crass comments and alienating everyone around him, and yet there he was, reaching out to her, cautioning her.
Acting like he cared.
“You almost sound concerned, Tain. I’m touched.”
The sarcasm saturated every syllable, and for a split second she thought she saw the same look in Tain’s eyes that she’d seen in Nolan’s, a softening that hinted at a crack in the armor, at a heart that pumped blood instead of ice water.
Was it possible they blamed each other for what had happened to Winters and that they’d both thought that by pushing her away and leaving her behind she’d be safe? Or was it what Steve had suggested, that they didn’t trust her because she didn’t fully trust herself?
The approaching footsteps stopped abruptly and they both turned to see Nolan standing just inside the room. His jaw muscles tightened as he looked at Tain first, then Ashlyn, then focused on returning to his desk and grabbing his jacket.
“They’ve found another body.”
“She stays,” Tain said. All the edge was gone from his voice. “I’ll go with you.”
Nolan’s head jerked up as he leveled Tain with a look. “She’s my partner. She’s going.”
“Would you two stop talking about me like I’m not even here?” Ashlyn grabbed her jacket. “We’ll all go,” she said as she reached behind her head to straighten her collar. Tain hadn’t moved, and neither had Nolan. “Is that a problem?” she asked him.
His only response was to snatch his keys off his desk, turn and walk out the door.
Nolan’s hands gripped the steering wheel with visible force, and he stared straight ahead, not uttering a word, his face as dark as the thick clouds gathering in the sky.
Ashlyn didn’t need to ask. The weather could turn fast in the mountains, and it was late enough in the year that clouds could just as easily mean snow as rain.
Snow that could hamper their efforts to search the woods for more bodies. Tain had organized search parties, and they’d been out every day, but so far hadn’t turned up anything.
Tain was silent as well, a stillness abou
t him that stood out in stark contrast to how he’d carried himself since she’d met him. He wasn’t relaxed, but he was controlled, his hand resting on the door handle, his eyes focused ahead of him. Waves of hostility rippled off Nolan, but it was as though the surge rebounded off Tain and swept back to the point of origin, Nolan’s grip on the steering wheel tightening, the color in the back of his neck darkening as the drive progressed.
Whatever tension Tain carried, he was in control of it. Nolan’s anger owned him.
Ashlyn sat in the back, at her own insistence, feeling every second of the drive.
The gaps between buildings grew, and then Nolan turned off down a road that seemed to head straight into the woods.
“I thought the body was found in a Dumpster.”
“That’s right.” Nolan sounded like his teeth were clenched.
“I’m not doubting you.” Except she was. Nolan’s inability to control his emotions, his obvious anger and frustration about things she’d been kept in the dark on, since day one.
When Nolan made another right turn she understood. The town dump, obviously, the landfill consuming the gaps where the trees had been cleared. The reduce, reuse, recycle mantra hadn’t eliminated these eyesores or prevented their expansion, and wherever possible large communities shipped their trash north to the wilderness. Out of sight, out of mind.
“How’d this come in?” Ashlyn asked.
“Anonymous 911 call.”
She felt an eyebrow rise. This was a dump where locals could still drop bags unchecked, something Ashlyn hadn’t thought existed anymore. Nolan drove up a hill until they were level with the tops of three Dumpsters, a sign between the farthest one and the middle one detailing what people were and were not allowed to dispose of, the “No Appliances” line sprayed through with red, an old fridge left teetering on the edge of the hill above the Dumpster behind the sign.
As soon as Nolan put the Rodeo in park, Ashlyn got out and surveyed the Dumpsters.
The body lay facedown in the garbage in the middle one. The tip of a blade protruded from the middle of her back, a circle of red surrounding the metal. An old-fashioned white nightgown stretched down to her ankles and her arms were spread out from her sides, so that her body formed the shape of a cross. There was a rigidity to the limbs, something artificial about the way they lay on the refuse, the sharp right angles betraying the fact that the body had not simply been shoved over the side or tossed in with the trash. She had been placed in the partially filled Dumpster deliberately.
Carefully.
The manner of display as important as the method of death.
“She’s been posed,” Ashlyn said.
Tain was beside her. “Like Mary Donard.”
“But Donard was partially wrapped, wasn’t she?”
“Other than the fact that Donard was faceup, it’s the same pose, and Donard had a similar nightgown on under the wrappings.”
“That’s not the only thing that was different with Donard,” Ashlyn said.
Tain looked at her. “The scene has to be processed before we’ll know what’s different, and what isn’t.”
“Almost everyone we have is tied up with Mrs. Wilson,” Nolan said. “This case snowballed so fast we’re stretched thin. Sullivan might need to bring in more help.”
Tain glared at him. “Let’s hope not.”
“Come off it, Tain. With Winters gone, it’s down to five men.”
“Not counting Sullivan, or any man in uniform.”
“Or any woman,” Ashlyn said. “Look, this isn’t helping. We need to process this scene before the weather turns. That’s what we brought our own gear for, right?” Ashlyn turned back to the Rodeo and walked around to the back of the vehicle. Nolan followed and helped her remove the supplies she’d insisted they take the time to pack before leaving the station.
They eased themselves into the Dumpster. Tain and Ashlyn started from the corners and worked their way in, bagging and tagging as they went, photographing items of interest. Nolan worked from the center. When a body lay on the ground it was often easy to start with the victim and work out from there, but in a Dumpster, making a move for the center where the body lay could mean disrupting crucial evidence. Someone had disposed of this girl’s body. They’d taken the time to lay her in a very specific way.
Whoever it was, they’d been inside that Dumpster, only hours before, and with a little luck and careful processing, the constables would discover that a body wasn’t the only thing the killer had left behind.
“We aren’t going to make it,” Nolan said after an hour of slow wading through trash. “I just felt a raindrop.”
“Was that a tent in the back of your Rodeo?” Ashlyn asked as she rolled her left shoulder and fought the urge to reach behind her and rub her neck. She couldn’t risk removing the work gloves that protected her hands, and considering what she’d been forced to sift through, she didn’t want to touch her skin with the gloves still on. “Can we use a canopy to cover the scene?”
Nolan turned back to the edge of the bin and gripped it with his hands, then pushed himself up. When he got to the top he removed the coveralls and disappeared.
She could make out the sound of the spare-tire holder clicking into place, the window opening, the back tailgate dropping down, and a thud that could be Nolan partially climbing into the back to reach something. Then the tailgate slammed shut, followed by the window, and the tire holder clanked as it snapped back into its other locked position.
Instead of Nolan reappearing at the side of the Dumpster, the sound of another door opening and closing and hum of an engine filled the silence.
“I just felt a drop,” Ashlyn said as gravel crunched with the Rodeo moving away from them.
Tain frowned. “What the hell is he do—”
More gravel crunched as the hum grew louder, and where Ashlyn had originally expected to see Nolan brake lights appeared instead.
The lights faded, and the hum of the engine died. Another door slam and Nolan appeared at the side of the Rodeo.
“Use the signpost for one end, and we can tether the other corner to the vehicle. Turns out I had a tarp in there I hadn’t opened yet.”
Nolan worked the upper corners while he tossed rope and the other ends of the canvas to Tain and Ashlyn. They both inched their way through the Dumpster, trying to avoid sharp metal or glass or a puncture from a discarded needle or God knew what that had been discarded there.
Ashlyn was just glad the Dumpster wasn’t completely full. Not only did it mean she wasn’t up to her neck in trash, it meant she could work her way along the edge without disrupting all the potential evidence she had yet to look through.
Not to mention the obvious fact that it was making the process of sifting refuse less time consuming than it might otherwise have been.
Ashlyn had just finished tethering the rope to the corner of the Dumpster when the tap-tap of rain began beating against the tarp. The first few tentative drops gave way to the rhythmic drumming of the rain falling against the covering.
Nolan had replaced his coveralls and returned to the Dumpster, and Ashlyn turned to find him approximately where she’d been before moving to secure the covering.
“I’ve worked my way through everything up to the body from that side,” he said.
“Should we call Sullivan?” she asked.
“Done. When I was moving the vehicle.”
Ashlyn nodded. Across the Dumpster she could see Tain’s furrowed brow, and even in the growing darkness she could tell there was a shadow behind his eyes.
Nolan didn’t want to be the first to assess the body.
The distant hum of engines broke the stillness and she listened as she opened the next bag of trash and began going through the contents. Within a few minutes she’d tossed the bag behind her and moved on to the next one, just as the sound of crunching gravel grew closer and a flash of lights cut through the thick gray that shrouded them.
A door slammed shut and th
e silhouette of a man appeared in the headlights beside Nolan’s Rodeo.
“Jesus.”
Ashlyn glanced at Nolan as the figure above the Dumpster disappeared. More doors slammed, but the hum of that engine and glow of the lights remained.
Sullivan returned wearing coveralls and the steel-toe work boots that were best for Dumpster diving. He slid in along the edge near the center, where Nolan had already cataloged potential evidence.
“We’ve covered that area already,” Nolan said. “We haven’t touched the body.”
Their sergeant looked at them for a moment. Since he was backlit, Ashlyn wasn’t sure if she could really see his eyes narrow, or if she imagined the reaction.
“I called the coroner’s office earlier. They already sent someone down because of Mrs. Wilson.” He remained near the side of the Dumpster, still as stone, staring at the body.
“I didn’t realize they’d gone back after the first bodies were found.”
“It’s not like they’ve got a field office here,” Sullivan said. “The back and forth is slowing things down.”
In the time since their arrival, there had been many questions going through Ashlyn’s mind. As much as she’d tried to focus on the tasks in front of her and not consider what they might still find, she’d felt the anticipation building.
She didn’t want to know, but she needed to know.
Something about the whole case didn’t sit right. What was it Tain had said earlier, about Winters?
Why had he tried to leave her behind?
Why had he warned her not to trust anyone?
The longer she stood in the Dumpster, the more she felt the stiffness in her neck, the pinch in her shoulders protesting prolonged use.
She pushed her way through the trash bags that had already been sifted, which were stacked behind Nolan, and waded through the scattered debris that remained between Sullivan and the girl. Nolan had said he’d already processed everything, and she remembered seeing him right beside the body.
He hadn’t removed the last few bags when he’d finished, but left them in place. Ashlyn might have believed that he wanted to help clear the Dumpster as quickly as possible in the hopes that the coroner would be present to assess the body before they had to move her, but his unwillingness to move those bags suggested that wasn’t the reason he hadn’t started assessing their victim.
Lullaby for the Nameless (Nolan, Hart & Tain Thrillers) Page 53