Chapter 2
As per usual, Harvey scooped up his regular cup of joe from Barb’s joint, the Carrabelle Junction, before heading south to the Moorings of Carrabelle. Skylar still insisted on running around in that rusted truck of hers even though he’d urged her to dump it, ideally off the top of a tall cliff, but she wouldn’t. It had sentimental value, she said. Sentimental? How could anyone be sentimental over a vehicle that spent more time in the garage than on the road? Didn’t she understand that how they presented themselves to the public was fifty percent of being an officer of the law? He thought back to his instructors at the academy harping on about wearing a crisp shirt, making sure the tie was aligned, and the importance of polishing boots. It’s all about appearances. What kind of message does it send to a criminal if you show up looking like you’ve just rolled out of bed? What do you think is going through their mind when they roll down their window and spot crumbs on your uniform? I’ll tell you. It means you’re an easy target. You don’t care. You’re slow. You’re sloppy. You aren’t going to be a problem. Twenty-one years on the job and that speech had stuck with him. That’s why it annoyed him to see Skylar showing such little respect. Of course it didn’t help that Captain Davenport let her get away with wearing plain clothes. Him? Oh no. The day he peeled that uniform off would be his last day on the job. And in his mind that wouldn’t be long by the way things were going. He’d been in more dangerous incidents over the past eight months working alongside Skylar than he had in his entire career. He was sure she had a death wish.
Though strangely enough that wasn’t what was bothering him that morning.
It was his son, colleges and the overwhelming responsibility he felt resting on his shoulders. For the longest time his son had these wild ideas of heading off to college, getting away from home and living this life of independence. All well and good but who was paying for it? Harvey couldn’t afford it. Not on his salary. Heck, he had barely scraped together enough for their retirement but if he had to be on the hook for college tuition, that was going to eat into their nest egg. He wasn’t getting much younger and a state pension only went so far. Of course he’d managed to stash away some into his 401k and a few investments but it was the bare minimum. In all honesty the reason he hadn’t retired yet was because he just didn’t have the means to. It wasn’t there and Elizabeth’s job at the antique store in town wasn’t going to carry the full weight. And then of course there was the glaring fact that it wasn’t one tuition he was looking at but two. Payton wasn’t that far behind Michael.
He shook his head utterly perplexed by it all. Sure, Michael might land a scholarship, and maybe they could get a loan but he didn’t want his kid to go into debt. Twenty-five grand was a lot but a hundred? There was no guarantee he could pay that back and carve out a life for himself. Harvey had seen countless well-educated people working in diners years after they’d graduated. That’s why he’d told his son about a more affordable program that a local college was running, in the hopes he could save both of them from being crippled by an overpriced college tuition. It hadn’t helped that the schooling system had already preprogrammed kids to think if they didn’t get into that fancy, high-priced university their lives would amount to nothing. He sighed. It didn’t matter what he told his kid, he knew he would be devastated. It was all about prestige. Picking the right college. It was all about appearances. Fitting in. He snorted as he took a sip of his coffee, and took in the sight of the sparkling gulf waters as he got closer to the harbor.
As the truck approached a four-way stop he eased off the gas and mulled it over, thinking of all the alternatives. His eyes drifted to his right and caught sight of a Land Rover, behind the wheel was Callum Jackson. They both locked eyes for a second or two as his vehicle rolled past. As if his day couldn’t get any worse, life had to bring that sleaze ball across his path. He still hadn’t managed to let go of the anger surrounding the death of his sister. He knew Jackson was behind it somehow and one day he would prove it. Until then he had to endure seeing him roam the streets a free man.
A car honked its horn, snapping him out of his daze. Harvey glanced up at his rearview mirror and saw a souped-up Honda. The driver was waving for him to move. Harvey stuck his hand out of the window and made a friendly gesture to apologize before rolling forward. He made it a few more yards down the road when the Honda sped past him and the passenger stuck his finger up. It was some punk college kid.
“Hey asshole, you think you can go any slower?” the kid yelled.
They hit the gas leaving him behind, not realizing whom they were flipping the bird at. It was times like these he relished being an officer. Had it not been for the urgency of that morning’s call, he would have taken great pleasure in pulling them over and watching them grovel. But he opted to hang a right and continue on.
“Next time, boys, next time,” he muttered under his breath.
Skylar was perched on a railing dressed in her usual getup of a black leather jacket, white V-neck T-shirt, black jeans and ankle boots. She had her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a pair of aviators on. As soon as he swerved in she hopped down from the railing and sauntered over smiling. Harvey took an old sweater he had in the back seat and rested it over his crotch to avoid spending the remainder of the journey embarrassed.
“Harv, how you doing?”
“Reid,” he replied, sticking the gear in reverse and backing out.
Her eyes glanced down to the sweater.
“Here, let me toss that in the back for you.”
She reached over and he slapped her hand. “Don’t touch.”
She frowned.
“I mean, I can do it. It’s fine for now.”
She got this amused expression and leaned back against the door wrapping her arm around the seat. He knew the jig was up.
“I spilled syrup. Okay? Let’s just get that out there now.”
“Really? And how did you do that?” she asked.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Sure.” She snorted and there was a long pause before she said, “You do know…”
“Yes I know,” he said without looking at her, realizing full well she was going to mention Hanson and Reznik. “Anyway, how did your weekend go?” he asked shifting the topic away.
She pushed out her bottom lip and bounced her head from side to side. “Dandy.”
“So what did you get up to?”
“Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that.”
He shot her a sideways glance as they headed east on US-98. There was a reddish-purple mark on the side of her neck. “Oh my God, is that a hickey?”
“What?” she said acting all flustered. He pointed and Skylar flipped the visor down to take a look in the mirror. She ran her hand over the area and went slightly red in the cheeks. “Oh that.” There was silence for a second or two. “No, that was uh… Oh did you catch the game on the weekend?”
He chuckled. “So that’s where you’ve been spending your evenings. So when are we going to meet the lucky fella? Tell me, is it Ben Walker? It’s Ben Walker, isn’t it?”
“No. No, it’s not Ben.”
“Donnie?”
“Please,” she replied sounding insulted.
Then he clicked his fingers. “I got it! It’s Carl.”
“Harv, Carl is nearly seventy years old.”
“Well I always said he liked them young.”
She groaned and pulled up her collar. “How about you drop it?”
“I will if you don’t mention my stain to Hanson and Reznik.”
“Agreed, but Harvey, I think it’s going to be a little hard to hide that.”
“Don’t you worry about me, worry about yourself. If they spot that beauty on your neck, you won’t hear the end of that.”
They continued on in silence, and turned off U.S. Highway 98 onto Alligator Point Road and followed it around the curve to the right. Ahead a few locals drove past, and tourists gazed in store windows. They were easy to spot
as they looked like they were searching for Spam in aisle five down at the local grocery store. As they got nearer to the Point, Harvey noticed there weren’t a lot of vehicles in the parking lot. There rarely were at eight-thirty in the morning, even in the peak hours there weren’t many because there were no public facilities and limited access. Still it was a beautiful spot, although there were much nicer beaches to be found on St. George Island.
Fishermen could be found out on the gulf, or at one of the two boat ramps on the bay side. What made it unique was to reach the area it required cutting through Bald Point State Park, a gorgeous 5,000-acre park south of Ochlockonee Bay. The park was a vast forest full of pine flatwoods and oak scrub. Depending on the time of the year it offered glimpses of black bears, coyotes, bobcats, white-tailed deer and all manner of birds. Harvey had visited the area many times over the years to go canoeing, and swimming with the kids. He just hoped that when news of this death hit the airwaves that it wouldn’t ruin it for the tourists.
The truck shot by a sign for sea turtles nesting and multiple clapboard homes on stilts with palm trees swaying in the wind outside. A fire department building could be seen as they got closer to the public beach. Carrabelle Police Department cruisers and one of theirs were parked nearby. He swerved to the edge of the road and tossed the unsightly sweater in the back. Skylar smirked at the stain and hopped out. He glanced down feeling self-conscious and then did something he hadn’t done once in his entire career — he pulled out his shirt and let it hang over the spot. He didn’t like appearing sloppy but it was worth it to avoid hearing them cackle like school kids.
Both of them headed towards the beach. The medical examiner’s van was already there slid up alongside Hanson’s car. They fully expected to see Jenna Madden on scene babbling and tossing out medical lingo — as if anyone could understand it. Jenna was a short woman in her early thirties who tended to wear one too many bracelets, bright neon nail polish, and sported obscure hairstyles worn by rock stars. As Harvey trudged towards the yellow tape he wondered what color her hair would be today.
Deputies were huddled together blocking the view of the body.
“Did your father pay for you to go to college?” Harvey asked Skylar.
“No, I had to pay my own my way. The money just wasn’t there. He was too busy spending it on alcohol.”
“So the apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree then,” he shot back thinking she’d get the joke but it didn’t have quite the effect. Instead she scowled so he shifted back to his question.
“I just can’t believe it costs so damn much.”
“One of the kids giving you heck?”
“One? Both of them and Elizabeth. I told them, I don’t recall my parents paying for me.”
“It’s a different era. Kids today think they are entitled.”
“Mine don’t.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“No issue. I’m just…” he trailed off shaking it from his mind.
Before they reached the crime scene Hanson and Reznik spotted them and made their way over. He could tell they were going to be trouble from the smirks dancing on their faces.
“New look for you, Baker?” Reznik asked.
“No, I just didn’t want to upstage you two.”
They scoffed and Hanson’s eyes darted to Skylar. “Hold on, Reid. What’s that?”
“What’s what?” she asked looking self-conscious.
Hanson pointed and she went a deep shade of red. He hurried over and grabbed something off her shoulder, unfolding his hand to reveal a large spider. He dropped it and crushed it under his boot. “You got lucky there.”
“Yeah, I guess I did,” she replied. That momentary distraction gave Harvey enough time to skirt his way around them and make his way over to the crime scene tape. He breathed a sigh of relief and focused on the task at hand.
Chapter 3
Every crime scene was different. There were so many opportunities for evidence to be compromised. On a beach that was open to the public anyone could have scooped up something of significance. By the time they arrived the place had already turned into a circus. Word must have got out as two news crews were nearby hoping to get a sound bite, a crowd of curious onlookers had gathered and local business owners were standing outside their stores. It wasn’t good for business, not one bit.
Skylar ducked under the yellow tape wrapped around several trees. There were numerous evidence triangles with black numbers on them to indicate evidence found. Before they could get close Hanson darted past them with his camera up.
“Alright, stand back. I want to get a few shots before anyone else screws up the crime scene.”
“I thought you’d already done that,” Harv said with a smirk on his face. Hanson got into a few awkward poses and snapped shots as if he was working some fashion runway. It was always amusing to watch. Oliver Hanson was a tall, brawny fella in his mid-thirties. According to Harvey he’d been a hairdresser before seeking out a career as a cop. He was the kind of man that was rarely without a comb. Despite the deep-seated animosity between Harvey and him over the loss of Harvey’s sister, Skylar couldn’t deny that he was a damn good cop. Harvey stood beside her scoffing and shaking his head.
“You done?” Harvey asked impatiently.
“You can’t rush these things,” Hanson replied, taking a few more seconds to capture some more images before stepping back and admiring the body like it was a work of art. Both of them were such drama queens.
Skylar moved closer and crouched down. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of blue latex gloves. “So who called it in?”
“A young couple. They’re from upstate New York.”
“What we got?” Harvey asked.
“Matt Carr, 20, studying at Florida State University. Single bullet close range to the back. We just found his wallet, and a couple of cards scattered around the beach. No address on him yet beyond the university but that might change in a few minutes as we have Officer Miles leading a search of the area.”
Skylar looked down the beach to see Carrabelle Police Officer Miles scouring the sand with several other officers. It struck her as strange that anyone would have taken the time at night to rifle through the wallet and toss it, versus just taking the whole thing and getting the heck out of there. There was next to no lighting on the beach. Would they really have stood there using the light from the moon or maybe their phone to look at the items? Then there was the sound of the gun. Someone must have heard it. She looked back at the body.
The victim was average build, though in comparison to most college guys he would have looked scrawny. From the little she could see of his face, he was a good-looking kid. The body was face down in the sand, his head slightly angled to the right as if sleeping. In fact he might have been overlooked by others who thought he was drunk. The only clothing he had on was a pair of neon pink shorts — certainly an odd choice of color for a young college guy. He was wearing no shoes or socks and his body was covered in bruises as if he’d taken one hell of a beating. There was a bloodied hole on the left side of his back.
Reznik piped up. “My guess is he had one too many, and wandered off the beaten path. Someone or several people took advantage of the moment, they got into a scuffle, shot and robbed him.”
Skylar lifted his hands. “If that was the case you’d think he’d have bruising on the knuckles.” There was no scratches or bruising on his hands.
Reznik and Harvey squinted.
“Where’s Jenna? I saw her van,” she asked.
Hanson looked off towards the van. “Oh she hasn’t come out yet.”
“Odd.”
Skylar got up and looked over to where she’d parked. “Look, there’s a crushed pack of cigarettes over there, I want that processed and find out if anyone heard anything. A gun going off must have been heard.”
“Not if it was pressed against his back. The body may have absorbed most of the noise.”
“Anyone fo
und a weapon?”
Reznik looked over to Miles.
“Right. He’s still searching.” She got up and told Harvey she was going to see what Jenna was doing. Skylar trudged up the beach, the sand slipping below her boots. The media got all excited, jabbing out their mics thinking she was going to speak to them but at the last second she took a hard right and walked over to the van. When she reached it, she tapped on the window with her knuckles. Inside Jenna had her back turned to her. She twisted around and brought the window down. Immediately Skylar could see she’d been crying.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”
“I’m sorry. I just need a minute.” She dabbed at her eyes with some tissue.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
She sighed. “Not really. Just relationship problems. I’ll be right there.”
Skylar noticed she was still gripping her cell phone. “He walk out on you?”
“It’s a long story.” She reached for a makeup bag and tried to make it look like she hadn’t been crying. A tough job being as her eyes were swollen red.
“You know, Jenna, if you ever need someone to chat to…”
“I appreciate that.” She finished up but seemed hesitant to say anything. As she pushed out of the van, Skylar noticed bruising around her wrist as if someone had forcefully grabbed her. As soon as Jenna slammed the door, she breathed in deeply and put on a fake smile and gestured towards the scene. “Shall we?”
Skylar wasn’t one for sticking her nose into other people’s business, hell, she hated it when other people did it with her. It was bad enough when her therapist grilled her. When they made it back to the body, Jenna dropped down and started going through a preliminary check while Harvey was talking to Miles. As Jenna got close to the body she sniffed several times.
Death Blow Page 2