The man’s brow furrowed. “I work here.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket, located the right one and unlocked the door. Joseph glanced in.
A room full of coffins. And everything looked relatively undisturbed. He spoke into his radio, “Set up a perimeter, question everyone, don’t let anyone leave the scene.” An affirmative answer squawked back at him.
He turned the worker, saying, “Okay, thanks. I need you out of here, too. This is a crime-scene and I need to keep it preserved.”
Flustered, the man nodded and headed for the stairs, meeting a swarm of cops coming up. Joseph motioned for one of the officers to escort the man down, then filled the rest of them in on the situation. “Crime-scene unit’s on the way.”
“We’ve got this covered,” a tall officer assured Joseph.
Joseph loped back down the steps to find Catelyn watching a man work on Zachary, the EMTs offering their assistance as it was requested.
She looked up at his approach, question in her eyes.
Joseph pursed his lips and shook his head. “No, he got away.”
“He?”
A shrug. “He, she. Whoever. The shooter’s gone. Crime scene unit’s on the way. Uniforms are preserving the scene.” He pointed to the man on his knees beside Zachary. “Who’s this guy?”
“A doctor. He insisted on trying to help.”
The man looked up. “I was late coming from the hospital for the funeral. I’m a friend of the Merritts. When I saw all the commotion, I thought I’d see if I could help.” He looked back down at Zachary who lay still and pale. “The bullet grazed his head. It didn’t enter the skull, which is a good thing, but it might have fractured it. I’ve called a neurologist. He’ll be waiting at the hospital when we get there.”
“Thanks.”
A man rushed up and said, “Oh my…can I do anything?”
“Who are you?” Joseph queried.
“I’m Alan Dillard, the baseball coach at Esterman High. Zachary was…is one of my players. What’s going on? Who would do such a…”
“Zachary! Oh, no, oh, my…” Joseph turned to see Zachary’s mother rushing from the mortuary. The boy’s father was right behind with the younger brother bringing up the rear.
“What happened? What’s going on? Why is this happening?” The distraught woman wailed her grief, echoing the coach’s questions. Two of her three children: one dead and one severely wounded. His heart went out to her.
Alan Dillard grabbed the woman’s shoulder, keeping her from throwing herself across her son and impeding the work being done on him. “He’s getting the help he needs, ma’am.”
The EMTs let the doctor take the lead, securing Zachary’s neck in a brace, then they gently loaded the boy onto the gurney. The doctor helped, supervising the transfer, then washing his hands with the special alcohol-based soap the EMTs left for him. The ambulance pulled out, siren wailing, on the way to the hospital.
Joseph clapped the man on the shoulder. “Thanks. He might have a chance because you were here.”
“Quinn Carson.” The doctor introduced himself, holding out a hand for Joseph to shake.
“Joseph Santino. That’s my partner, Catelyn Clark.”
Catelyn nodded and gave a half smile. The ambulance disappeared around a curve.
“I need to get to the hospital. I need to be with my boy.” Zachary and Tracy’s mother wailed.
Dr. Carson turned to take the woman in his arms. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. Go and I’ll be there to check on him shortly.”
“Come on, Mrs. Merritt, Mr. Merritt. I’ll do anything I can to help. I’ll stay here and make sure everything’s finished up. Go be with Zachary,” Alan offered, his face creased in sympathy and concern.
Tears flowing, cheeks ashen, the woman nodded and took her friend’s advice. She, her husband and young son hurried to their car and took off for the hospital. Friends and family dispersed to their own vehicles in near silence, shock rendering them speechless.
Friday morning, Catelyn dragged into work feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. After Tracy’s murder, she’d talked to her parents extensively, but they’d been basically clueless about their daughter’s activities. She sighed.
Unfortunately, parents had to work and couldn’t watch their teens twenty-four/seven, but still, she would’ve thought they would have been able to provide more information than they had.
First thing this morning, she’d called to check on Zachary and learned he still hadn’t awakened. She did learn that his abdomen sported the same tattoo his sister had. They posted a guard on his door who would also call immediately if Zachary woke up.
A quick call to a buddy who worked in the gang unit confirmed that Zachary was definitely part of the gang and had a record for some petty theft, shoplifting and one incident involving a stolen car. Although, it seemed that since baseball season had started, he’d kept his nose clean.
Deep in thought, Catelyn set her cup of coffee on her desk and tossed her purse in the bottom drawer.
“Good morning to you, too.”
She whirled to find Joseph cranked back in an old squeaky chair someone had scavenged from the storage room. A desk had been set up and he looked quite at home. Lovely.
“Hi, didn’t see you there. Looks like you’re all set up.” She hoped her aggravation wasn’t too obvious.
“Bugs you, huh?”
Clamping her teeth on her lower lip to control her tongue, she took a deep breath. It was all about self-control. Before allowing herself to respond, she picked up three phone messages and read them.
Set them back down.
Picked up her coffee and took a swig.
Then she turned to face him. And ignored his taunt. “What time did you get here?”
“About an hour ago.”
Was he trying to show her up? He’d soon learn she didn’t play that game. No, she’d grown up watching her parents trying to outdo each other, show the other who was the better cop. Catelyn had decided she’d avoid that immature behavior.
Actually, if she was honest, she didn’t remember that particular trait about Joseph. Was she just being…defensive? She did remember that could be a big tease, so maybe…he was teasing her?
Withholding judgment, she kept her cool.
He said, “I couldn’t sleep so figured I’d just come on in.” No sarcasm, no in-your-face attitude. Just fact.
That was a trait she was more comfortable with.
Relaxing, she settled in her chair. “I guess we need to plan out our day.”
“I’ve got some ideas. Do you mind if I run them by you?”
Asking her permission? This she didn’t remember. Suspicious, she eyed him. Then offered a shrug. “Sure. Fire away.”
A warm smile creased his cheeks and crinkled his eyes. Familiar attraction zinged, and Catelyn deliberately stomped on it.
“First of all, I want to get a record of Zachary’s text messages. Then, I thought we might make our way over to the crime lab and see if we can light a fire under someone. I want those DNA results back.”
“I checked on Zachary this morning and he’s still unconscious. He’s got some pretty serious neurological stuff going on. Swelling on his brain and fluid. They’ve even put him on a ventilator.” She shook her head. “They’re not sure if he’ll ever wake up. The principal of the school and Coach Dillard are letting the students organize a fund-raiser for medical expenses for Zachary. The deaf school offered its services, too. Apparently, Alan is well liked in the deaf community, thanks to his having deaf parents.”
Joseph nodded. “That’s a great thing to do and it’ll give the students something constructive to focus on. They’ve got to be traumatized by all that’s happened over the last few days.”
“To say the least. The school counselors are working overtime right now, talking in the classrooms, counseling friends of Tracy, Kelly and Zachary. They’re doing all they can do. They’ve even called in some outside help, so that’s good.”
Sympathy clouded her gaze for a brief moment. She nodded and said, “I want to know what it is those two kids knew that someone was willing to commit murder in order to keep it secret.”
“And I want to talk to Kelly Franklin’s brother today, too. His name is Billy. Let’s see if he can shed some light on his sister’s disappearance.”
“Sound like we’ve got our game plan.”
“Oh, and Alonso’s got a baseball game tonight. I’m planning on catching it if you want to join me.”
Speechless for a moment, Catelyn processed his statement. Gathering her wits, she shrugged. “We’ll see.”
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on her evasiveness.
As they headed out, Catelyn ignored the excitement building within her at the thought of spending so much time in Joseph’s company. Excitement or no, she reminded herself that this was the man who’d broken her heart two years ago and there was no way she was trusting him with the pieces ever again.
Pulling into the parking lot of the building that housed the local crime lab, Joseph pondered the situation silently while Catelyn called Billy Franklin’s mother to ask for permission to visit him at the school, assuring the woman that Billy was in no way considered a suspect, but they just wanted to see if he had anything else to add that might help them find his sister. Sometimes people remembered things later. After the dust settled, and the adrenaline wore off.
Tracy had been killed, and Kelly had disappeared. Why?
What did Tracy know that was worth killing for? Had Kelly been at the scene? Had she witnessed the murder and fled? Was she hiding out? Or had she witnessed it and been taken against her will? And why hadn’t the killer just killed her, too? Or had he and they just hadn’t found her body yet?
Sighing, Joseph waited until Catelyn hung up from a second call before swinging his long frame from the car. “Who was that? It sounded official.”
“Victor.”
“What did he want?”
“An arrest.”
“Don’t we all? I vote for arresting the right person, though.”
“I know.” She pulled at her lower lip with her two top teeth as she thought. Joseph cut his eyes and swallowed hard. He clearly remembered kissing those lips and wanted to do it again. He blinked and focused back in on what she was saying. “I still think Dylan’s up to his eyeballs in this thing and knows a lot more than he’s telling.”
“Possibly. It’s just that when he protested his innocence so profusely, I believed him. I didn’t see anything that made me think he was covering up a murder.”
Catelyn rolled her eyes at him. “Trust me. Kids like that learn how to lie so convincingly they probably even believe what they’re saying. But they’re liars all the same.”
“Kids like that?” Joseph raised a brow. Why was she so cynical? He didn’t remember seeing this side of her before. Wary about a romantic relationship? Yes. A tough street cop? Yes. But where had her compassion gone? What had happened to change that part of her?
She must have read something in his face because she asked, “I sound harsh, don’t I?”
“Yeah, you do.”
She chewed her lip again. Then pulled her jacket off and rolled up her sleeve. He sucked in a deep breath. A thin five-inch jagged scar made its way from the inside of her elbow to the center of her arm just falling short of her wrist.
He reached out and pulled it toward him for a closer look. Angry, puckered and red, yet healing. “Compliments of one of those kids?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you learned your lesson, is that what you’re saying? And every kid is guilty until proven innocent?”
She flushed and yanked out of his light grasp. “Something like that.”
He let her go. “When did that happen?”
“About six months ago.”
He winced. “Ouch.”
Shutters came down over her eyes. “Yep.”
“You want to tell me about it?” She used to tell him everything. His heart hurt at the memories. He’d missed her. Her laugh, her beauty, her spunk, the way she made him feel when she let him see the pride she felt for him when he collared a criminal. The way she melted into his arms for a snuggle on the couch. Her kisses…
“Nothing much to tell. I had the kid cornered, he acted like he wasn’t going to give me any trouble, just blubbering about how he’d been set up. I believed him, let my guard down and he pulled a knife from somewhere. And before you ask, yes, I’d already patted him down. I made a stupid mistake and missed it. It was a little thing, but it hurt. So, no more trusting crying teens protesting their innocence.” Subject closed. “Let’s go see what we can find out about the DNA. I hope this isn’t a wasted trip.”
He smiled and let it drop even though he wanted to pursue the fact that just because she had one bad experience with one kid didn’t mean they were all the same. But he knew when she got that look on her face, attempting to push the subject more wouldn’t get him anywhere. So he said, “The personal touch is never wasted. A phone call might have sufficed, but when you’re face-to-face, it’s harder for them to put you off…or hang up on you.”
She gave a rare grin, one he remembered, but hadn’t seen since he’d been back. “Very true.”
Why had she bothered to explain about that scar? Catelyn decided having Joseph around could be addictive. Somehow, she was going to have to figure out how to keep her mouth shut around him. Spilling her guts about everything that bothered her was no longer an option. She’d moved on, and he’d just plain moved…
“Sandy, how are you?” Catelyn spotted the criminalist and waved her down. A pretty, petite woman in her late thirties, she was part of a team that did their job well. She’d also been one of the people covering Tracy’s murder.
The woman’s brows arched under her shaggy bangs. “Catelyn? What are you doing here?”
“Trying to solve a murder and find a missing girl. This is my partner, Joseph Santino. He’s working on the case with me.” Joseph and Sandy shook hands, then Catelyn said, “We need to know if anything’s come back on the blood found on the ring.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. We had that murder-suicide on the other side of town and things have been a little crazier than usual around here.”
Great. “I hate to be pushy, but do you mind putting a rush on it? There’s a killer out there and a missing girl.”
Concern flickered across the woman’s face. “I heard. I know Greg was working with the ring. Come on and let’s see if he’s in the lab.”
The three marched down the hall and Catelyn couldn’t help feeling the thrill, the excitement that came with her job. Sure, she hated the deaths, the psychos out there who caused such pain and misery to others, but she knew she was right where she was supposed to be.
She was born to be a cop. A detective. Her mission in life was to put the bad guys away. She didn’t have time for romance or a family—or Joseph.
Right, God? God had been strangely quiet with the answer to that question lately and she wondered if the pang she felt in the vicinity of her heart meant she wasn’t exactly on the right track. Lord?
She looked at Joseph, his rugged profile so familiar; one she’d never tired of looking at during the time they’d dated. Pain seared her. The loss of his presence in her life left a gaping hole she realized she’d never completely filled.
It was too bad he’d never understood that part of her personality, the cop part; it grieved her that he couldn’t accept she’d never be the traditional happy homemaker he envisioned when he pictured his wife.
Unfortunately, she knew this all too well. After all, it’s what had broken them up two years ago. Joseph Santino had wanted her to stop being a cop, stay home and be his wife. A mother to his children. Part of her regretted that it wasn’t enough; she grieved the l
oss of his companionship, her best friend.
But there was no way she’d ever give up her career. Not even for the man she loved.
Just wasn’t going to happen.
Joseph watched Catelyn in action. She loved her job, that was obvious. He saw her disappointment when Sandy returned with no news. “But I promise to let you know as soon as it’s processed. I’ve got your cell number, and I’ll call you myself.”
Catelyn agreed and then she and Joseph were headed back out. He asked, “Where to now? Billy Franklin?”
“Yes. Esterman High School.”
He climbed behind the wheel again without asking. He knew she preferred to ride rather drive. He was falling comfortably into old routines.
As they drove through the streets, Catelyn looked out the window. He decided to touch on the past a little. “How’s your mom?”
If he’d zapped her with a Taser, he wouldn’t have gotten more response. Her head whipped around and she seared him with her gaze. “What?”
“Your mother. How is she?”
“In a nursing home. Dying.”
Oops. He hadn’t expected that one. He should have done his homework before venturing into uncharted territory. “Aw, Catie, I’m sorry.”
She looked back out the window. “You didn’t know. Did you let the school know we were coming?”
Her way of saying “Back off.” Another topic not up for discussion. But he remembered her mother and genuinely wanted to know about her. Give it time, he told himself.
“Yes, I did.” He let the subject drop.
He turned into the parking lot of the high school and she gave him a half grin. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of direction.”
For a moment he blanked, then the memory rushed forward. The day they’d gone hiking in the North Carolina woods, searching for a specific waterfall.
“This way,” he’d insisted, pointing toward a path that branched to the left.
“No Joseph, it’s this way. I have it right...
“Catie, I know exactly where I’m going. Now be quiet so I can concentrate.”
They’d wandered around for the next two hours in silence. Finally, he’d stopped and told her he was going to have to call and get directions.
A Silent Fury Page 4