She didn’t mind giving up her jeans and top, but since she hadn’t had time to replace many of the clothes she’d lost in the tornado, she was wearing her only jacket. If she gave it up she’d have to go shopping ASAP. Which would be just peachy with the twins.
“Sorry, I can’t do that.” The woman’s face was blank of expression. “With only two of us, we only process what we can’t collect.”
Even though the tech’s unit covered the entire county, Skye wondered if the woman was just being a pain. Surely it wouldn’t take that long to press some tape, or whatever they did, on her coat.
She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could form the words, the tech said, “I’ll meet you in the garage. Please hurry.”
“Terrific.” Skye headed for her car, muttering under her breath.
After retrieving the extra set of clothes she kept for emergencies such as baby poop and liquid burps, Skye trotted up the driveway and into the now open garage. She noticed that although there were three spaces, only one vehicle, a Volvo XC90, was parked inside.
The crime tech closed the overhead door, then had Skye stand on a large sheet of white paper and take off her jeans, shirt, and coat. The clothes were packaged separately and tagged. Then the tech scraped under Skye’s nails, combed her hair into a bag, and ran what looked like a lint brush over her exposed skin.
The whole process took less than fifteen minutes, and as Skye exited the garage, Wally came around the corner from the Quinns’ backyard. He took one look at her unhappy expression, removed his jacket, and slipped it over her shoulders. As she snuggled into the coat’s warmth, she raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Sorry about that, but since you said Earl was pressed against you in the shed, we needed to collect any evidence that might have passed from him onto you,” Wally explained, as he fetched a windbreaker from the squad car’s trunk. It had Scumble River Police stenciled across the back in large white letters. “Any chance the turkey killed her?”
“I didn’t see any blood on him.” Skye threw up her hands. “And why would he call me to come here instead of just leaving if he murdered her?”
“Who knows how that man’s mind works.” Wally tapped his chin. “I mean, running away when it’s not exactly a secret where he lives doesn’t seem logical either.”
“If he’s really scared, he’ll disappear into Doozier territory until we catch the murderer.”
“Probably. Earl ditched the lawn mower at the edge of the field and disappeared into the corn.” Wally looked around. “Hasn’t Quirk come back with Beilin yet?”
“No.” Skye wrinkled her brow. “And it’s only a five-minute drive from here to our house.”
“Great!” Wally snarled. “Another missing suspect.”
Chapter 8
Honey, I’m Home
Wally watched Skye’s Mercedes speed away down the street. A few minutes ago, Carson had called to say that Eva felt warm and wouldn’t stop crying. Skye had immediately run for her SUV, impatiently waiting for him to move the squad car so she could get out of the driveway.
He’d wanted to go with her, but Quirk had just returned with Beilin Quinn and he’d had to be content with calling after Skye to keep him posted about their daughter’s health. Her distracted wave was the only acknowledgment that she’d heard him.
As his wife’s vehicle disappeared from sight, Wally refocused, turned to Quirk, and snapped, “What took you so long?”
Before the sergeant could answer, Beilin rushed up to Wally and demanded, “What’s going on?”
Beilin was a big guy and Wally immediately put some distance between them, unsnapped his holster, and rested his hand on his weapon. Quirk followed suit.
“Whoa!” Beilin held up his hands. “There’s no need for weapons.”
“Step back and don’t move,” Wally ordered, then looked at Quirk and said, “Report.”
“I arrived at the construction site, found Mr. Quinn inside, and told him that he was needed at home.” The sergeant’s expression was stoic. “We walked out to the squad car and found that it had a flat. After changing the tire, we drove directly here. There was no other exchange of information with Mr. Quinn.”
“Yeah.” Beilin scowled. “The sergeant here wouldn’t answer any of my questions and I’m getting fed up with both of your attitudes.”
Wally ignored the man. All the cruisers had recently been rotated through their monthly maintained schedule and that flat seemed awfully convenient in delaying Quirk.
His cop instinct kicked into high gear, Wally made eye contact with Quirk and said, “As soon as we’re finished here, drop the tire off at Black Bear Repairs and have Grizzly examine it for signs of vandalism before he fixes it.”
“Yes, sir.” Quirk nodded.
“Look.” Beilin wrinkled his face. “Clearly something’s wrong here. Did we have another break-in?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Thank God, this time of day Jerita’s at work and Jenna’s at school.”
“I don’t recall hearing about the previous incident.” As the chief, he read all the officers’ logs. “When did it occur and what was stolen?”
“It was about ten days ago and I didn’t bother to file a police report. It looked as if the lock had been picked because there was no damage to the door.” Beilin shrugged. “Nothing valuable was taken. There was just a bit of vandalism. I upgraded the deadbolts on both the front and French doors and figured that would stop any casual thief.”
“Hmm.” Wally pulled out his memo pad and made a note to question Beilin more about that later, then keeping his voice casual and Jerita in the present tense, he said, “You mentioned that your wife is at work. What are her hours?”
“She drops off Jenna at school around eight fifteen, then heads to the office. She works until she picks Jenna up at three thirty,” Beilin answered, then asked, “Do you want me to call her to come home?” He patted his pockets, then frowned. “Oh. I forgot the sergeant borrowed my cell phone. I need to get it back from him.”
Wally was impressed that Quirk had managed to get Beilin’s phone away from him. He couldn’t legally confiscate it, but he certainly could ask to use it and forget to return it to its owner.
Disregarding Beilin’s comment about getting his phone back, Wally asked, “Is there any reason that your wife might be home rather than at work?”
“If she didn’t feel well or Jenna got sick,” Beilin said slowly. “Why? Was she here when the break-in happened? Is she all right?”
“I’m afraid she was here.” Wally carefully watched the man’s reaction as he continued, “And I am very sorry to inform you that your wife is dead.”
“No!” Beilin screamed and Wally grabbed his arms to stop him from falling, but he sank to his knees. “What happened? Was it her heart?”
Wally blinked. Skye had mentioned the neighbor had asked about a heart attack too.
“Did she have a medical condition?”
“She had a congenital heart problem, but she was real careful to follow the doc’s orders and had been doing well on the meds for years.”
“I see.” Wally rubbed his chin. “While we won’t know for sure until after the medical examiner submits his report, we currently believe that she was murdered.”
Beilin tried to rise his feet. “I want to see her.”
“I’m sorry, but your wife’s body is on the way to the medical examiner at Laurel Hospital.” Wally took Beilin’s elbow and helped him get up. “You can head over there and see her as soon as he finishes.”
“But…” Beilin tried to pull away. “Then I need to get my daughter from school.”
“She’s with the acting school psychologist,” Wally said, then asked, “Would you like Ms. Townsend to break the news to Jenna or would you rather do that yourself?”
“Maybe together?” Beilin sounded completely at a loss.
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Wally felt sorry for the man. He tried to imagine raising CJ and Eva without Skye and shuddered, then quickly pushed away that horrific thought.
“I’m sure Ms. Townsend would be happy to help you.” Wally led Beilin toward the house. “I’ll let her know, and she’ll keep Jenna occupied until you get there.”
“Thank you.” The contractor’s voice cracked.
While Beilin stared into space, Wally made the call, then while he was at it, checked in with Skye. She assured him that Eva didn’t have a fever and seemed fine. She’d stopped crying shortly after Skye arrived home.
Returning his attention to Beilin, Wally asked, “Did your wife have any enemies?”
“Of course not!” Beilin snapped. “She was a good woman who was devoted to me and our daughter.”
“How about her job?” Wally probed. “She worked for a lawyer. That kind of job could expose her to some people who might harbor hard feelings.”
“She’d only been employed there a few weeks and her boss was wrapping up cases to go on maternity leave.” Beilin shook his head. “Jerita said the most exciting thing she’d been doing was finishing up the paperwork for a will and a couple of real estate closings.”
Wally nodded, keeping his expression neutral. It was odd that Beilin hadn’t mentioned his wife’s issue with the school. Hadn’t he known that she’d had a meeting about their daughter’s placement?
“Okay. One last thing.” Wally turned to Beilin. “Before you go to pick up your daughter, it would be very helpful if you could walk through the house and backyard and tell me if you see anything out of place or missing. We need as much info as possible to figure out who killed your wife and the motive behind the crime.”
* * *
The crime scene techs had completed their work and Reid had accompanied the body to the morgue, so Wally sent Quirk to deliver the tire to the repair shop. The sergeant was under orders to return to the station and hold down the fort until Wally got there or called with other instructions.
After Quirk was gone, Wally escorted Beilin into the house. It took a while and the contractor had broken down more than once, but he eventually managed to get through the residence and outside property.
With the exception of the busted door on the toolshed and the missing lawn mower, Beilin couldn’t find anything different from when he left that morning. He did mention that he’d been working on the mower to enter the annual Christmas Day Stanley County lawn mower race, but Wally was deliberately vague about what happened with it or the shed. And Beilin seemed too overcome with the situation to press for details.
Finally, Wally gave the man a ride back to his truck at the construction site. Once the contractor left to go pick up his daughter, Wally decided that he would stop in at the RV to see how his own daughter was doing. Despite Skye’s assurances, he wanted to see Eva for himself.
While Wally drove the short distance to the motor home, he radioed Thea and asked, “Has Martinez been able to locate the suspect?”
Knowing that there were too many people listening to their scanners who would gladly join the hunt, he didn’t use Earl’s name. He didn’t want to declare open season on Dooziers. At least not yet.
“Negative,” Thea responded. “No sign of him at his residence.”
“How about the rest of the family’s properties?” Wally asked.
By family properties, he meant the territory, which included a good stretch of land beside the Scumble River. Two groups of people dwelled in an uneasy alliance along that parcel. There were the upstanding citizens, who either had inherited the acreage or bought it for their retirement homes, and the others who the locals disparagingly called the Red Raggers.
The Red Raggers consisted mostly of a clan that Wally likened to a pack of wild dogs. They were extremely loyal to their own kinfolk, but everyone else was prey. They were proof that evolution can go in reverse and took survival of the sneakiest to new heights.
“Nothing around that area either,” Thea answered. “She’s headed over to do a backward search from the suspect’s last-known location.”
“Fine.” Wally braked behind Skye’s SUV and said, “Have her take a look in the local bars and the park camping areas too.”
“Will do,” Thea responded, then added, “Ms. Ficher called to say she would be back in Illinois this afternoon and asked if you still needed to talk to her. I told her that Mrs. Baker hadn’t been found so you probably did, and Ms. Ficher said she’d come by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Excellent.” Wally smiled. If anything happened to him, they should name Thea as chief. She could certainly handle the administrative part of the job. “I’ll be 10-7, but call my cell if anything urgent comes up. Oh, and call in Anthony to patrol for the remainder of my shift.”
“Got it.” Thea paused, then added with a smile in her voice, “Kiss those babies for me, and give your sweet wife some sugar too.”
“Always,” Wally answered, then gazed out the squad car’s windshield, staring at the empty field opposite their property while he tried to figure out if there was anything else he should be doing. With one woman missing and another murdered, he felt like there should be something.
But they’d run out of places to look for Mrs. Baker, and until the reports from the ME and crime techs started to come in or they found Earl Doozier, he couldn’t think of what else to do about the murder. He’d already tried calling Loretta to see why Jerita wasn’t at work, but she didn’t answer her cell and he’d left her a message to get back to him ASAP.
Skye had reported that the neighbors hadn’t noticed anyone except Earl around the Quinns’ house. And Beilin hadn’t been able to come up with any enemies, which left Wally at a loss as to who to talk to about Jerita.
Sighing, he exited the cruiser. Maybe Skye would have some ideas.
Eager to see his family, Wally ran up the RV’s metal steps and opened the door. CJ and Eva were in their bouncy chairs with Skye sitting between them dangling various brightly colored toys for them to bat around. Bingo was curled up at her feet. He was also taking a turn at whacking the toys. Wally beamed. This was exactly the picture he needed in his head to wipe away the horror of Jerita’s murder.
Skye looked up and said, “Your daughter is fine. I think Carson just got flustered with her crying. Both of these cuties are usually so good, he was thrown off by Miss Eva’s little hissy fit.”
Wally scooped up the little girl and kissed her neck. “You nearly gave Daddy a stroke, princess.”
“Princess?” Skye arched an eyebrow.
“Yes.” Wally grinned. “It clearly states princess on her birth certificate.” As CJ made a noise, he looked over and said, “Don’t worry, buddy. Yours says prince.” Glancing back at Eva he admonished, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“Right.” Skye giggled. “I’m sure they’ll never worry us in the future.”
“Of course they won’t.” Wally kissed Eva’s head, then asked, “Have they been fed?” When Skye nodded, he questioned, “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.” She tilted her head. “I bet you haven’t had anything either.”
“You’re right.” Wally held out his free hand to help Skye up from the floor. “I was hoping my sweet wife would have lunch with me.”
“Oh.” Skye looked around. “Did you pick up something for us?”
“Uh…no.” Wally’s ears reddened. “But I could make a McDonald’s run.”
“Just kidding.” Skye laughed. “How does toasted cheese and tomato soup sound?”
“Great.” Wally headed toward the bedroom with his drowsing daughter. “I’ll get the twins changed and into their bassinets.”
“Terrific.” Skye moved into the kitchen. “The food should be ready by the time you’re done.”
When he finished getting the babies settled, Wally returned to the kitchen. As soon as he
sat at the table, Skye slid a steaming bowl of soup in front of him and a plate with a sandwich and chips.
After getting her own meal, she took the chair opposite him, and with a teasing grin said, “Not that I’m not thrilled with your company, but I’m surprised you’re here with a fresh murder case.”
“Martinez and Quirk are looking for Earl and I called Anthony in to patrol.” Wally spooned soup into his mouth. “The earliest that there will be anything from the crime techs or ME is tomorrow.”
“Hmm!” Skye bit into her toasted cheese, chewed, and swallowed, then asked, “Was Simon able to estimate a time of death?”
“Between eight and eleven.” Wally ate half his sandwich before adding, “And if Jerita dropped off Jenna at her usual time of eight fifteen, we can probably narrow it down to eight thirty.”
“Beilin was late getting to the house this morning,” Skye said thoughtfully. “The painter was looking for him and I think it was about a quarter to nine before he showed up.” She took a sip of water. “I suppose it’s possible he could have stuck a knife in his wife’s head at eight thirty and made it here in fifteen minutes.”
“Yep.” Wally pursed his lips. “I know they’d been having some disagreements, but is that enough of a motive for him to kill her?”
“Anything is possible.” Skye shrugged. “The neighbors said they were fighting a lot.” She paused. “But those women all seemed to think Jerita was the aggressor and Beilin was the one who was innocent. But he was worried about her turning Jenna into a brat.” She snapped her fingers. “I almost forgot. They also said that Beilin claims he’s been working on our house from sunup to sundown, which is obviously untrue.”
“Maybe he was having an affair,” Wally said slowly. “But if Beilin did it, he’s a damn good actor. He looked poleaxed when I told him.”
“It’s amazing how good people are at denial,” Skye warned. “He might have been able to block the whole incident from his mind.”
“That’s true.” Wally ate a few potato chips, then said, “Didn’t you tell me about a mother who watched a video of her son doing something and refused to believe it was her child?”
Come Homicide or High Water Page 8