Detection Mission (Texas K-9 Unit)

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Detection Mission (Texas K-9 Unit) Page 9

by Margaret Daley


  “Do you need my help?” Molly asked. “Should I guard the front of the house?” Kip’s bark accompanied the last question.

  “Molly. Heidi. Get back into the apartment with Kip.” He heard Heidi in the background talking to the 911 operator. “Help is on the way. I think the killer got what he wanted.” If someone tried to come in through the front door, a beep would go off to indicate it was opened. He should be able to make it to the hallway before the assailant reached Molly’s.

  “Zoller?” That one word from Heidi wavered.

  “Yes. Now do as I say.”

  The sound of their footsteps faded, and a door slammed shut. Lee kept his gaze glued to the area where the shot came from, just outside the six-foot chain-link fence. Most likely the killer was long gone because if he’d been after him, he would have been dead a second after Zoller. Lee had been wary of Zoller but hadn’t been expecting a sniper to shoot the man right in front of him.

  In the distance, the sirens reverberated through the air. A few minutes later, police officers flooded the backyard and the front bell rang. Lee strode to the foyer and opened the front door.

  Mark charged into the house. “I was at the station when the call went out. I didn’t want to use my key and get mistaken for an intruder. Anyone hurt?”

  “Gus Zoller was killed on the back stoop. A shot to the heart.”

  His neighbor hurried toward the kitchen. “What did he want here?”

  “To meet with me, but someone didn’t want him talking to me.” Behind him the door to Molly’s apartment creaked open. Lee glanced back and glimpsed Heidi with Molly next to her peeking out into the hallway.

  “It’s safe. Four officers are searching the backyard,” Mark tossed over his shoulder before entering the kitchen.

  That was all either lady needed. They bridged the distance to Lee.

  Heidi put her hand on his arm. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  He nodded, touched more than he cared to admit by her concern.

  “We both hit the floor when we heard the shot,” Molly said with a chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve moved that fast in a long time. I’m gonna ache tomorrow morning.”

  Mark came in from out back. “Zoller is definitely dead. I took the bullet out of the door frame. Maybe ballistics can tell us something about the gun used. One of the officers found where the shooter must have stood.”

  “By the bushes near the garage?”

  “Yep. The ground was damp. There are footprints there. The crime-scene techs will take a casting. Looks like a man’s cowboy boot, size twelve or so. The right heel has a chip out of it.”

  “So all we have to do is check every man’s boot in the area for a chipped heel.”

  “I know...a long shot. But it’ll help put the man at the scene when we do find him.” Mark glanced from Heidi to Molly and then back to Lee. “I’ll take care of the crime scene.”

  Nodding, Lee headed for the back door. “I’m taking a look at Zoller. He had something in his hand.”

  He squatted near Zoller’s body. The man’s right arm stretched out from his side. A white piece of paper stuck out of Zoller’s fisted hand. Lee took a pair of gloves from Mark and then carefully pried his fingers open until the note was exposed.

  He picked it up by the corner, and in the flood of light from the security lamp, he read, “Kill him, Blood.”

  Mark looked at the note Lee held. “Blood? What’s that mean? Is it a name?”

  Lee shrugged. “This must have been what spooked him into calling me.”

  “Is this to Blood or from Blood?”

  “Don’t know. When we find the shooter, we’ll ask him.” Lee slipped the note into an evidence bag Mark held open for him.

  Lee caught Heidi standing in the door, her eyes wide, the color drained from her face. “You okay?” he asked as he closed the distance between them.

  Backing away from the door, her attention fixed on him, she shook her head. “Who would call themselves Blood?”

  “I’m sure that isn’t his real name,” he said, not really having a response to her question but wanting to alleviate her fear. “The note might have fingerprints on it. Maybe ones besides Zoller’s.”

  She stared straight ahead at his chest. “There’s been so much death. This isn’t the first dead body I’ve seen. I saw another,” she murmured in a monotone.

  “When?”

  For a moment she didn’t reply. His concern increased the longer she was silent. He clasped both of her hands, feeling their trembling, and cupped them between his.

  “Heidi, when did you see a dead body?”

  “Recently. When I spied Zoller on the stoop, another body flickered in then out of my mind. Not him.” She lifted her glistening eyes to his. “But I don’t know who, where or when.”

  “Maybe it’s connected to why you were running in the woods. You could have come upon someone killing Adams. When I found his grave, it was clear he’d been dead a few weeks. I’ll know more when I get the autopsy. Pauly Keevers’s death was more recent but the same gun was used in both murders. Probably the same killer.”

  Heidi shuddered.

  Lee wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. “I’ll protect you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  His gaze connected with Molly’s. Worry etched deep lines in her forehead.

  “I’m putting this food up for right now. Later if anyone wants to eat, they can heat the chili up in the microwave. I suggest we move to my living room,” she said over the voices drifting to them from the backyard. “I for one need to sit down.”

  Lee slung his arm over Heidi’s shoulders and then Molly’s. “It sounds like a great suggestion. Mark will let us know when the crime-scene techs are through.”

  “Will you have to leave and go to the station?” Heidi asked as they moved toward the foyer.

  “No.”

  She released a long breath. “Good.”

  He looked down into her face, and he could tell she was shell-shocked. He couldn’t blame her with all that had happened to her the past few days. The realization only reinforced his desire to protect her and get to the bottom of what was going on in Sagebrush.

  * * *

  “So the gun that killed Zoller was the same one used in the deaths of those two men whose bodies Kip found in the woods?” Heidi shifted toward Lee in his SUV nearing the outskirts of San Antonio on Saturday.

  “Yes. The ballistics report came back late yesterday afternoon confirming it. The bullets matched in all three murders. Same gun.”

  “From what I remember the Lost Woods is a beautiful place. It’s a shame so much darkness has shrouded it lately.”

  Lee nodded soberly. “It’s gotten more dangerous ever since a teenager was shot dead in the woods five years ago.”

  “Did you catch the person who killed him?”

  “No. Daniel Jones, sixteen years old, fled into the woods with 30 grams of crack cocaine. Daniel had been arrested before for dealing. Captain McNeal pursued him, and when the teenager pointed a gun at him, the captain shot him in the thigh.” He grimaced. “But someone else shot the boy in the heart. The bullet used by the sniper was untraceable. The case went cold.”

  “Those poor parents. They never had any closure on their son’s death.”

  “That’s the really sad part in all of it. There wasn’t a father around and Daniel’s mother committed suicide the night she heard the news about her son. The captain was devastated by the events.”

  The thought of losing a child slowed her heartbeat to a throb. “So someone out there got away with murder—with killing a child.”

  “Yes. We think it was Daniel’s supplier, trying to shut the teen up before he gave him up. We never found out who Daniel’s dealer was. Since then, the Lost Woods had become a haven for criminals. They use it to hide and for various illegal activities.”

  “If you know that, why can’t y’all do anything about it?”

  “We make peri
odic sweeps through there, like what Austin and I finished yesterday, but they always seem to be one step ahead of us. We’ve rarely found anything going down at the time we’re there.”

  Heidi faced forward, the traffic becoming heavy as they entered the city. “I’m no expert, but I have watched police shows on T.V. It sounds like you have an informant tipping the criminals off to what you’re doing.”

  Lee slanted an amused look at her. “How do you know you watch police shows? Another memory?”

  “No, but Molly loves them, and while I stayed with her, I caught a couple. I didn’t care for them. They aren’t always realistic.”

  “How do you know that?”

  His question made her pause. “I don’t know. Just a feeling. You haven’t considered someone might be telling the bad guys what y’all are going to do before you do it?”

  “I know most of the people I work with, and they are good people.”

  “Good people can be bought off. Money has a way of corrupting. Some folk worship money like a religion. It’s everything to them. That and the power money brings to them.”

  “So true. That’s why I decided to become a cop rather than a veterinarian. You don’t become a cop for the money.”

  “Why did you?”

  “To help others. To make Sagebrush a safer place for people to live.” He tossed her a grin. “To put the bad guys in jail.”

  “That’s the way I feel about working with children. You don’t get rich in the sense of money, but you do in other ways. The personal satisfaction can’t be measured in monetary terms.” As her words tumbled out, she knew this was another memory worming its way to the surface.

  “You worked with children? Doing what?”

  She closed her eyes and tried to picture herself working with kids. She saw herself reading a book to a circle of children. “I read to them. At least I think I did. I’m not sure where the feeling comes from, but I’m sure I had something to do with kids. Maybe I worked in some kind of school, a library, daycare or...” She captured the memory and tried to expand it, but she met with a blank slate—even the strong sense of caring for children evaporating. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just grasping at anything that sounds remotely possible.”

  He stopped at a red light. “I can picture you working with kids. Your voice is soft and easy on the ears. Reading to them makes perfect sense.”

  The compliment flushed her cheeks with heat. Their gazes linked across the small expanse of the car. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For saying that.” In that moment she realized she hadn’t heard many compliments. What kind of life had she had before this? Was she purposely not remembering because she had such a horrible life she didn’t want to remember?

  Someone honked a horn. Still, Lee didn’t look away.

  She smiled and wrenched her attention from his face to the stoplight. “I think they want you to go before the light changes to red again.”

  He chuckled and started across the intersection. “You’re a distraction.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Oh, don’t be sorry. It’s a pleasant distraction.”

  Again, warmth infused every pore of her at his compliment and stayed with her until he pulled into William Peterson’s driveway.

  “Does this place look familiar to you?” Lee asked.

  “No. Not even a vague sense I’ve been here before. Have the police gone through his house?”

  “Yes. His daughter is meeting me here and letting us inside. She wants to get to the bottom of what has happened to her dad. Until we found his car, no sign turned up for weeks concerning him.” Lee climbed from his SUV. “With all that Kip has been doing lately, he’s probably content to be in Molly’s backyard with Eliza today.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. You didn’t see that puppy-dog look he gave you when we drove away.”

  “He’s just playing you. He’ll be happy outside with his girlfriend.” He scanned the peaceful street.

  As they made their way toward the porch to sit and wait for the daughter, an older woman popped up on the other side of the hedge that separated Peterson’s property from hers. “He’s not there. He hasn’t been around for a month. The police suspect foul play. Such a shame. William is a nice man, always willing to help me if I need it.”

  Lee turned toward the woman, dressed in a jogging suit.

  “I was tying my tennis shoes when you drove up,” the neighbor said to the surprise on Lee’s face. “I usually go for my morning walk about this time.” She checked her watch. “Well, I’m a little late today since it’s around eleven.”

  “Mr. Peterson’s daughter is meeting us here.” Lee headed toward the older woman, probably around sixty. When he reached into his pocket, she backed up, her eyes round and wide. “Ma’am, I’m a police officer from Sagebrush, Texas.”

  The neighbor stopped her backpedaling and actually moved forward to look at Lee’s badge. “Did you find William?”

  “No, but we found his car outside Sagebrush.”

  “No sign of him?”

  Lee shook his head.

  Heidi watched the exchange as Lee tried to get as much information about the missing man as he could from the neighbor.

  “William has never been this popular when he was home. First a man came to see William about a month ago, then the police and now you. You all wanted to know about what kind of man William was. Well, I’ll tell you what I told them. He was a good neighbor. Minded his own business. No loud noises coming from his house late at night. I’ll sorely miss him.”

  “So you think something’s happened to him?” Lee asked.

  The older woman’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t you? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “I’m here to meet with his daughter.”

  Peterson’s neighbor snorted. “I told that other man William was a loner. His life was his work and his family.”

  “You’ve mentioned this other man twice. He wasn’t with the San Antonio Police?”

  She shook her head.

  “No, at least he didn’t show me a badge or say he was.”

  “Why was he here?”

  “He said he found William’s wallet and wanted to return it. I said I’d take it, but he didn’t give it to me. Actually I never saw it, but he asked who were the closest people to Mr. Peterson.” She shrugged. “I mentioned his daughter and the people he worked with at Boland Manufacturing. Of course, William is on the road a lot because he’s on their sales staff.”

  “What did this person look like?”

  Heidi approached Lee and the neighbor as Lee continued the interview.

  The woman glanced at her. “Are you police, too?”

  “She’s assisting me,” Lee explained, returning the lady’s attention to him. “Do you remember what the man looked like?”

  “Sure I do. My mind is like a steel trap. It’s getting better with age, not worse.” She tapped her chin, her gaze slanting upward. “Let me see. His nose was big like a fighter I once saw on T.V. and he had thick dark eyebrows. I know men don’t want to pluck theirs but he needed to. His hair was blond. It was long and tied back with a leather strap.”

  Lee pulled his cell out and clicked on a picture. “Did he look anything like this?” He showed the neighbor the photo of the sketch of the man who had attacked Lee in Zoller’s apartment.

  She took the phone and studied the picture. “Maybe. His eyes were narrower, which made his eyebrows stand out even more. His mouth was thinner, too.” She gave him the cell back. “But it could be the same man. Is he a criminal?”

  “A person of interest. Has he been back since last month?”

  “No. Ah, I see Mary Lou is here. You might ask her if the man came to see her.”

  Heidi swung around as a petite woman with long blond hair and brown eyes exited a car and quickly closed the distance between them, her features stamped with surprise.

  Probably a mirror of Heidi’s own expression. Because
the young woman coming toward her looked a lot like Heidi.

  SEVEN

  At first glance at the woman approaching him, Lee thought he was seeing Heidi—but the closer Mary Lou came, the more he could tell them apart. Yes, they had the same straight long blond hair, hanging loose about their shoulders. Their bodies were slender and petite and their features had similarities. But there were differences. Mary Lou’s eyes were blue, not brown. Her mouth was thin and her chin had a cleft in it.

  Could Heidi be related to Mary Lou, therefore, to William Peterson?

  Next to him, anxiety vibrated off Heidi. The woman stopped a few feet from them, and her gaze skimmed over Heidi. Silence stretched to a long minute while each assessed the other.

  “Do you know me? Are we related?” Heidi asked in a shaky voice.

  Mary Lou tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “No. We do look somewhat alike, but I’ve never seen you before.”

  “Have you seen this man?” Using his cell, Lee showed her the photo of his attacker at Zoller’s apartment.

  “I’m not sure. A man came to see me a month ago wanting to contact Dad. I told him he was away working and he’d have to get the schedule from his company.”

  “So you didn’t know his schedule?” Lee slipped his phone back in his pocket.

  “Actually, I did. The man caught me outside working in the yard. I wouldn’t have opened my front door to a stranger, especially someone who gave me the creeps. I wasn’t about to tell him where my dad was.”

  “When was the last time you heard from your father?”

  Mary Lou’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “He called me as he was leaving town. What I don’t understand is how his car ended up in Sagebrush. That isn’t near one of his stops. His first stop was Midland.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to piece together. How did he usually drive to Midland?”

  “Part of the way on I-10, then up through San Angelo. But sometimes, something would catch his fancy and he’d take a different route. He loved to drive and didn’t care if it took him a little longer to get to his destination.”

  “So you don’t know the direction he went?”

 

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