“How did you find me?”
“It took some coaxing—he didn’t want to leave the body—but your dog led me to you, and the gathering crowd was a good hint.” She turned slightly so he had view of Smokey. Sitting obediently, his tail did a little thump on the ground when Jackson looked at him. And then Jackson saw the gathering crowd around him.
His cheeks grew warm and he stood. Now he felt stupid. How had he managed to let himself get knocked unconscious? He’d never hear the end it from the rest of the K-9 team.
She held out hand for him to help him up. “I’m Darcy Fields, Forensics.”
“I know who you are.” He pointed to her paper bodysuit. “The outfit gives it away.”
She laughed. “Believe it or not, I was at a very fancy shindig when I got the call.” She unzipped her suit slightly to reveal a sequined dress. “Normally my hair is pulled back when I work, not curly.” She had a sort of bouncy bright quality that didn’t fit with being a crime tech. “So why were you all the way over here playing Rip Van Winkle?”
“There was a someone hiding in the foliage where I found the body. The person took off running and I chased. I think he or she wanted to make sure I found the dead man, but didn’t want to get caught. I think that’s why I was hit in the head.”
Darcy narrowed her eyes. “But you don’t know for sure if the same person you saw in the trees hit you in the head?”
“No, I didn’t see who hit me and I never got a good look at the person who was watching me.” He knew Darcy must see everything in terms of how it would play in court. She wasn’t wrong. His theory was only speculation at this point. “I know we can’t draw conclusions until the evidence is examined.”
“Right. I don’t know anything until the evidence speaks to me,” she said. “Could be the person you saw in the trees was the concerned citizen who called it in, could be connected to the crime, could be something else entirely.”
Concerned citizen, he doubted it. “I didn’t get a good look, couldn’t tell you if it was a man or a woman. But I think he or she dropped something in that trash can.”
Darcy pushed through the crowd of onlookers and moved toward the garbage can, pulling gloves out of a back pocket. She sorted through a pile of plastic cups and fast-food wrappers before pulling out a small gun. “Okay, now things are getting weird.”
Some of the crowd dispersed, having lost interest, while others watched Darcy bag the gun.
“I don’t think the person I chased was a concerned citizen. I think he or she was a witness to, or a part of, the crime that led to that man being shot,” said Jackson.
“That doesn’t make sense. Why leave evidence behind? Are we dealing with the world’s dumbest criminal?” Darcy held up the bagged gun.
“Believe me, I’ve encountered some pretty dumb criminals.”
Darcy pursed and released her lips as though she were thinking. “Did you actually see him or her drop the gun in the trash can?”
“No. I thought I heard it as I was losing consciousness.” Now he realized how flimsy his story sounded from a legal standpoint. “I know it won’t stand up in court. Just because events happened close together doesn’t mean they’re related.”
“This could be from a different crime. We won’t know until we get it to the lab.” Darcy turned to face him.
Even though his gut told him this was all connected, he saw now how he didn’t have any solid evidence to link anything together. All he had was what lawyers would call “circumstantial.”
“I have to get back to work.” She took several steps and then looked over her shoulder. He liked her smile. “I’m glad we found you. I didn’t need another mystery on my hands.”
He followed her back to the body, where other techs had already cordoned off an area with crime scene tape. A van belonging to the coroner had driven onto the grass. The coroner and his assistant stood by the vehicle, waiting to approach the body.
Several uniformed officers stood around, as well. Jackson approached one of them and gave his statement about the watcher in the woods and being hit in the back of the head. “I’m not the detective on this case, but I think my being hit is somehow connected to that man’s death.”
The uniformed officer nodded. “I’ll make sure the detective assigned to the case gets your statement.”
“I’ll file a report about being assaulted.” Jackson turned his attention back to the crime scene.
Once the coroner examined the body, the forensic team went to work. After pulling her hair up in one of those hair ties women wore like bracelets, Darcy examined the body while the other two techs combed the area around the deceased man.
Jackson clicked Smokey back into his leash. Still stirred up by the face in the woods and what it meant, Jackson hung back to watch Darcy and the others work, curious as to what they might find.
* * *
Darcy took notes and performed a cursory study of the body. The autopsy would reveal more. The victim was dressed in casual clothes appropriate for the time of year. Flannel shirt in grays and browns, tan denim jacket, boots and jeans.
As she stared into the victim’s lifeless face, Darcy said a prayer for him and for the family members who would soon be getting the news of the man’s death. “Shot at close range. I’d say maybe a .38,” she said aloud.
About a month ago, she’d been in the same park dealing with another person shot at point-blank range. The perpetrator of that crime, Reuben Bray, was now in jail awaiting trial.
Jackson Davison and his cute dog were still hanging around. She felt a little distracted by the K-9 officer’s presence. He had a faint accent that suggested he wasn’t from New York. Somewhere from the South maybe. Every time their eyes locked, her heart fluttered a little. He was probably just hanging around in a professional capacity anyway. What did it matter if she found him attractive? She had a rule about not dating cops. The last time she’d opened her heart to an officer, he’d only been using her to expedite evidence. As nice as Jackson seemed, she’d vowed to never again fall for a police officer.
She looked at the other tech. Harlan Germaine was an older man with gray hair and a beard, and glasses much too big for his thin face. “Did the coroner pull ID on him?” she asked.
“Man’s name is Griffin Martel,” Harlan said. “Sorry about you having to leave your night out for this.”
“Actually, I was grateful. It was kind of not going anywhere.” Her church had decided to have a fancy dress-up night followed by a catered meal for all the young singles in the congregation. “Most men’s eyes glaze over when I talk about my work. Guess I should get an interesting hobby, so I have something else to talk about. Don’t know why I get my hopes up.” She spoke under her breath more to herself than to Harlan. “No one wants to the date the nerdy science girl.”
Harlan shook his head. “Don’t give up so easily, Darcy.” Harlan walked away from the body, eyes studying the ground. “I still don’t see any shell casings.”
“Even if we don’t find any, I say the guy was shot here. Plenty of people in the park. Someone would have noticed a body being dragged or hauled here. There is no way to get a vehicle to this area without raising alarm bells. If he was shot here, the killer must have used a sound suppressor,” she noted. “Otherwise someone would have heard the shots and phoned it in much sooner. I can see the early stages of rigor in the face and neck muscles, I would put the TOD at less than three hours ago.”
“You know this is about the same area that Reuben Bray shot that guy. Same MO, too, shot at point-blank range,” Harlan said.
Darcy had thought of that, too. “Reuben is sitting in a jail cell in Rikers. I’m set to testify at his trial soon.” She looked back at the dead man. “I hope we don’t have a copycat on our hands.”
She tilted her head. The overcast sky hinted of rain. “We better hurry or a bunch of evidence is going to be
washed away.”
Jackson Davison came to the edge of the crime scene. “Smokey’s getting restless. I’m going to take him for a run. I’d be curious to know about that gun.”
Focused on her work, Darcy barely looked up. “Sure, I’ll let you know once we get the lab results. Fingerprints. How recently it was fired. Who it’s registered to...blah, blah, blah. You know the drill.”
Jackson laughed.
She liked that he seemed to get her sense of humor.
The team worked on, taking photographs and collecting any possible evidence just as rain started to sprinkle from the sky. The coroner moved in to load the body to be taken in for an autopsy.
She unzipped her suit and took off her booties, handing them over to Harlan to dispose of.
“Need a ride?” Harlan shouted over his shoulder.
“Thanks, I took the subway here. I can take it home if you can pack my gear out.” The gear would stay in the forensics van for the next time she got called to the scene of a crime on her day off.
She walked the crime scene one final time, taking mental photographs and making sure she hadn’t missed anything that might be important later. It was a practice she’d learned early in her career. Though the team was meticulous in photographing everything, she needed to keep a picture in her head, as well.
“Satisfied?” Harlan asked as he loaded the last piece of equipment into the van.
Darcy nodded. She just wanted to get home and soak in a hot tub. Not so much because of work—she loved her job—but because the church event had been such a disaster. “See you bright and early in the morning.”
Harlan gave her a salute before walking away.
The crime scene tape remained in place. Darcy picked up her coat and purse from where she’d set them next to an officer guarding the scene when she’d arrived. She stared at the empty space now that everyone had left. Already her mind was trying to picture the scenario that had brought the dead man here. She looked at these cases as a puzzle to be solved. Right now, she only had a few pieces to work with. “How and why did you end up here, Griffin Martel? What is your story?”
Rain started showering from the sky. It was dark. She shone the flashlight where the body had been one more time, searching for a shell casing. She looked up, aware that she was alone. It was so late that she couldn’t even hear people in the park. Most everyone had gone home.
A branch cracked in the trees that surrounded the crime scene. Jackson’s story of someone watching the body became foremost in her mind. “Hello, is someone out there?”
She shook off her paranoia. All the same, she turned and walked through the trees at a brisk pace, heading for a more open area. When she got to the path that led to the park entrance, she didn’t see anyone.
Darcy stepped toward the crosswalk to cross Flatbush Avenue. Halfway across, bright lights shone in her eyes as the roar of an engine surrounded her. A car was coming straight for her. She ran to get to the other side of the street. The car followed her up on the grass just as a body slammed against hers, taking her to the ground. The car sped past and then peeled out of view.
Off to her side, a dog barked.
“What was that about?” The voice was Jackson Davison’s. He rolled away from her.
Her heart was still racing. “I have no idea.”
He stood and reached out a hand to help her up. His hand was strong and callused. She stood on wobbly knees, resting her palm against her raging heart.
“Some crazy freak, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said.
“I didn’t get a look at the make or model of the car or we could call it in.”
Her mind tried to rationalize why someone would try to run over her. “Maybe just a guy who had one too many. I’m glad you were here. That car might have mowed me down.” Her hands were still shaking.
“After I took Smokey for a run, I was hoping to catch you or one of the other techs,” he said. “See what you figured out.”
“Any information we have is preliminary. We’ll release official statements when we know more and next of kin has been notified. Your department will get a briefing if it’s pertinent.” Her voice sounded cold. This wasn’t about Jackson. She was being defensive because of what had happened with the officer who had only dated her to move his case along. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I need to follow proper protocol.”
“I understand,” Jackson said. “Guess I’m embarrassed that I let myself get hit on the noggin like that. Just wanted to know if it was connected to finding that body.”
“Like I said, we’ve just started to connect the dots.” Darcy studied him for a long moment.
The rain intensified and the few remaining people in the area scattered. He touched her arm above the elbow. “Let’s get out of this.”
They found shelter underneath a gazebo.
Smokey nestled between them on the bench as they took seats to watch the rain. “Sorry about that,” said Jackson. “He gets kind of jealous.”
Smokey licked his face and then turned his head and groaned at Darcy.
Darcy laughed.
They stared out at the rain and listened to its symphony on the roof of the gazebo.
“You look nice, by the way,” he said. “Sorry you got pulled away from your shindig.”
“Thank you.”
Jackson seemed like a nice guy, but he was a cop, and that made him off-limits to her. Darcy stared down at the dress she’d paid way too much money for and would probably not ever wear again. The disappointment of the party at church, the crime scene and nearly being mowed down by that car—it all hit her at once. She thought she might cry. “I need to get to the subway. I want to go home.”
“You seem kind of shook up. A car coming at you like that can take its toll. How about I drive you home?”
“I don’t mind the subway.”
“Okay, let us at least walk you to the entrance.” His voice was filled with compassion. He clicked the leash on Smokey. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
As they walked through the rain to the subway entrance, she found herself grateful that Jackson and Smokey were with her. The whole evening had left her out of sorts.
At the top of the stairs that led to the subway, Darcy turned to face Jackson. “Thank you. I will let you know if we find anything once we start combing through the evidence.”
Jackson gave her a nod. She watched as he turned with his dog and disappeared into the crowd. As she made her way down the subway stairs, she had the oddest feeling that she was being watched.
She stared around at the sea of faces on the platform. Her heart beat a little faster. The crowd compressed, preparing to board the train. Someone bumped her from behind, setting her off balance. She recovered before she fell. She craned her neck to see who had pushed her. All eyes were looking elsewhere.
The doors slid open. Even as she stepped inside the train, she sensed the weight of a gaze on her.
Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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ISBN-13: 9781488061387
Treacherous Mountain Investigation
Copyright © 2020 by Stephanie M. Gammon
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at [email protected].
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