Red Hatchet Falls

by Susan Clayton-Goldner

  After thanking Cooper, Radhauser stepped into the dugout and whispered in his daughter’s ear. “I have to go, sweetie. Coach Cooper will get you that hotdog from the snack bar I promised and give you a ride home.”

  Her dark eyes twinkled and her smile was big and bright as a birthday morning. Not a hint of disappointment. “That’s so great. Thanks, Daddy.” She gave him a quick wave, a flutter of small fingers in the still air, then turned her adoring gaze back on Cooper Drake.

  Chapter Two

  When Radhauser arrived at his Ashland office, Homer Sullivan sat in front of the desk. Sully’s pet raccoon, Rodney, was asleep under his chair. The old man wore his usual outfit—denim bib-overalls patched at the knees, a green and blue plaid, long-sleeved cotton shirt, open at the neck, and a pair of heavy work boots.

  He stood when Radhauser entered.

  Radhauser shook Sully’s outstretched hand, then pulled out his desk chair and sat. “It’s been a while.”

  “Yep. Been two years come September since we worked together.” Sully returned to his chair, his gaze riveted on Radhauser. “It was plum providential—the way me and Rodney was in the park today after doin’ our grocery shoppin’ and was the ones to find it. Maybe I can help on another case. Once you take that deputy oath, it’s good for life, ain’t it?”

  Radhauser shook his head, regretting the fake ceremony he’d performed to deputize Sully. It had been Radhauser’s last resort when the old man refused the use of his boat to search Sunset Lake for a victim’s body. Knowing it would take hours for Search and Rescue to arrive at the remote spot, Radhauser had humored Sully by pretending to make him his deputy.

  Oh well. Nothing he could do to change the past. “Captain Murphy said you have something to show me. What exactly did you find?”

  “I’d rather you see it for yourself.”

  Radhauser stretched out his jean-clad legs. “I hope this isn’t a joke, Sully. It’s pretty early for a Halloween prank.”

  Sully, his face worn and crinkled from too much sun and wind off the lake, lifted his hand, palm-side up. “I swear to you, this ain’t no joke. And I figure there must be a body it used to be attached to, somewhere out there.”

  “You’re telling me you found a human body part.”

  “I sure did.”

  “You’re certain it's real?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Radhauser pushed his chair away from his desk. “Show me where you found it.”

  “I can do better than that. Keep an eye on Rodney, I’ll be right back.”

  Before Radhauser could stop him, the old man hurried out of the office and returned a moment later with a brown paper bag from the food co-op.

  Sully opened the bag and removed something that looked like one of the green bags Lithia Park provided for pet owners to dispose of their animals’ waste.

  But this bag held either a human hand or, more likely, one of those realistic, hollow rubber ones purchased at a costume store.

  “I figured I better put it in the cooler, just in case the doctors can sew it back on. I seen an episode of Law and Order where they done that, ‘cept it was a finger.”

  “Where did you find this?”

  Sully grinned. “This could be a huge story. You know them tabloids often pay big bucks for something like this.”

  “You can’t be serious. God, Sully, don’t tell me you called the newspaper about a rubber hand.”

  “It ain’t rubber. And I didn’t call nobody.”

  It was hard to distinguish through the green plastic, but Radhauser’s gut told him Sully was right. “Tell me where you found it.”

  “When this hits the news, you’re gonna remember I’m the one who brung it to your attention, right?”

  Radhauser held his head in his hands. “How could I ever forget?”

  “Okay then. Out there behind the playground, near the creek in Lithia Park.”

  Radhauser sighed. That made it even more likely to be a prank. The right hand lay palm-side down on his desk. He studied it through the pale green plastic for a moment. The cut was clean and just above the wrist. It exposed two bones. He picked up the bag and all doubt disappeared. It was far too heavy to be rubber. This meant there could be a murder victim out there somewhere.

  “We’ve wasted a lot of time, Sully. You should have left this exactly where you found it. And you should have told Captain Murphy.”

  Sully looked chagrined. "I don't know him. And it's of the utmost importance to trust your partner in a homicide investigation. You and me got us some history on the job. We know we've got each other's back, right?"

  Having no idea how to respond to that, Radhauser buzzed Hazel Hornby, their administrative assistant, and explained the situation. “Put in a call to Dr. Heron.” Steven Heron was the medical examiner for Jackson and Josephine counties. And while Radhauser had worked with Heron and his forensics team for years, the ME preferred to be present and do his assessment of the scene. "Tell him to get over to the Lithia Park playground as soon as he can. Call McBride, too. Tell her it's urgent." Maxine McBride was Radhauser's partner.

  Radhauser ended the call, then slipped on a pair of latex gloves. The bag released a peculiar smell, like smoke and sage, a hint of decomposition. He carefully took the hand from the bag. The small size and pale pink polish told him the hand belonged to a woman.

  Someone, perhaps the perpetrator, must have washed any blood from the top of her hand and done an impressive line drawing in black marker. A mother cradling a baby in her arms. Why? What was he or she trying to say? A ring on the hand's fourth finger was either a plain gold band or turned so the stone faced in the wrong direction. Europeans often wore their wedding rings on their right hands. Was this the hand of a tourist?

  His telephone buzzed. It was Hazel. “The ME is in the middle of an autopsy. His secretary is sending out some forensics boys to canvass the area where the hand was found. They’ll call him immediately if any other body parts are found. Otherwise, bring the hand over to the morgue.”

  Radhauser hung up and carefully flipped the hand palm side up. The ring was loose and slid easily around her finger. Was it too big? Had she recently lost weight? Or did it mean the hand had shriveled? How long had it been exposed to the elements? From the intact condition of the skin and the fact that the blowfly eggs had not yet hatched into maggots, Radhauser would guess it had been severed less than twenty-four hours ago.

  The ring held four different stones—an emerald, ruby, diamond, and amethyst. It looked custom made. The stones were diamond-shaped and set in a straight line. With any luck, this ring was crafted by a local jeweler. He slid the hand into an evidence bag he'd labeled with the date and approximate location it was found.

  "Once again, Sully, you should have left this exactly where you discovered it and reported it to us right away. You've disturbed a possible crime scene."

  Sully grimaced, his watery blue eyes narrowing. As usual, his salt and pepper beard needed a shampoo and trimming. "Don't go gettin' your boxers in a knot. I thought of that, but there weren't no blood at the scene or any evidence either. And it ain't rained in over a week. So, my gut told me it weren't no crime scene. This was cut off somewhere else. And what I did was a valiant attempt on my part to protect evidence."

  Radhauser’s jaw tightened. “Is that so? Did you get yourself enrolled and graduated from the police academy since I last saw you?”

  The old man let out an exaggerated sigh. “No, I didn’t graduate from no academy. I might be old, but I ain’t stupid. And I paid attention to everything you said and everything I saw you do the last time we worked together.”

  The veins in Radhauser’s temples throbbed. He remained silent and let Sully talk.

  “There was nary a drop of blood anywhere near that hand. At first, just like you, I thought it was one of them fake hands kids like to scare people with. But when Rodney got to sniffing it, I moved in a little closer.” Sully’s eyes widened as if he were reliving the experience.


  “And?” Radhauser said.

  “Some big German Shepherd trotted over, his leash dragging behind him. He was about to grab that hand in his teeth. I picked it up using one of them plastic bags I keep in my pocket for Rodney’s business. I was real careful and didn’t touch it when I put it in another bag. So, you can relax. I didn’t get any of my DNA on it. And you should get off your high horse and be thanking me instead of giving me a crock of shit. I saved that crucial evidence from a vicious dog attack. If it wasn’t for me, you might never have laid eyes on this hand.”

  Radhauser softened his voice. “Sounds like you did the right thing, Sully. I apologize for assuming otherwise. But someone could still be out there in the park, bleeding to death.”

  Leaning forward as if to share a secret, Sully whispered, “Did you notice the fingernails? That pink polish tells us the hand belongs to a woman. Why would…I mean…who would do somethin’ like this? We need to figure out the motivation, right?” The old man sounded like he’d just read an amateur detective manual. “Motivation is everything in a murder case.”

  “That’s good, Sully. And you’re right. But for now, could you show me exactly where you found it?”

  The old man stood. Sully weighed about 180 pounds, stood at six feet two, and was agile and in good shape for a man his age. “Let’s go. I figured you’d want to see it, so I marked the exact spot.” He jerked on Rodney’s leash as if trying to awaken him, then took a digital camera card from his shirt pocket and handed it to Radhauser. “I got me one of them fancy cameras now that don’t need no film. I shot photos of the hand and its surroundings from every angle before I picked it up, same as you’d have done.”

  Just as he and Sully were ready to leave for the park, Detective McBride’s voice drifted into his office as she greeted Hazel.

  “I’ll be right back,” Radhauser said to Sully. “I need to check in with my partner.”

  Maxine McBride stood beside her desk, waiting for her computer to boot up. She was dressed in a navy-blue suit with a crisp white blouse and sensible, rubber-soled shoes that would enable her to run if she needed to. Her short brown and gold-streaked hair was still wet from her shower. As always, she wore her signature rattlesnake earrings, their gold tongues curling around her earlobes.

  He handed her the evidence bag containing the hand.

  She took it, then recoiled, her face growing pale.

  "We can save time if you can get some usable prints." He told her where he was headed and that he'd be back within a half hour. "We need to identify her. And quick. If she or someone else managed to tie a tourniquet above the cut, she might still be alive."

  “I’ll call the ERs.”

  “If you don’t have any luck finding her at the hospitals, call Search and Rescue, area fire departments, ENTs, the state police—anyone you can think of. Have them search Lithia Park, then go door to door, radiating out from the park.”

  Radhauser gave her Sully’s camera card. “Once you get the search organized, print whatever’s useful, then remove her ring. Put it in a separate evidence bag. If you strike out with the hospitals and can’t get a fingerprint, maybe the ring will lead us to our victim.”

  The worried look on her face told him she had something else on her mind. “You got a problem?”

  “I’m supposed to pick my nephew up at the dentist at two.”

  “Look, I know you and your sister are on shaky ground, and how bad it feels to get called away from a family obligation. I just got called away from Lizzie’s ballgame. You need to find somebody else,” Radhauser said. “We’ve got a woman with a missing hand out there somewhere who might still be alive. If we can’t get a print or she isn’t in the system, canvass local jewelers. That might be faster than door to door. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “It’s just that I promised my sister…” She pressed her lips together.

  "I don't care if you promised the pope. You're a homicide detective now. And our duty to our victims has to come first. Ask Hazel to pick him up. On the slim chance our victim is still alive, we have to find her. And even if she's already dead, you know how fast evidence in a murder case goes cold."

  Her smile was more than a little forced. “You’re the boss.”

  Despite her small size and volatile relationship with her sister, Maxine McBride was a great partner, confident, energetic and willing to help in any way possible. What she lacked in physical strength, she made up for with intuition and intelligence. She was new at the job, but he’d seen her make mincemeat out of more than one suspect who’d dared to challenge her across the interrogation table. After his long-term partner, Detective Vernon, retired, Radhauser had suggested Murphy promote McBride. Up until a few minutes ago, he’d been convinced they couldn’t have made a better choice.

  He hurried down the hallway to his office.

  Sully was still pulling on Rodney’s leash.

  “Is he sick?”

  "No. He's plum tuckered out," the old man said. "We walked for miles in that park. And Rodney's gettin' old like me." He jerked on the raccoon's leash again.

  “I’m not going to find any raccoon droppings in here, am I?”

  Sully threw his head back and laughed. “I spent years trainin’ him. And Rodney ain’t about to do no business in your office.”

  As if recognizing his name, Rodney opened one of his eyes, black and cold as stone, then slowly lumbered to his feet, claws scraping on the linoleum floor. He hissed at Radhauser.

  Sully shrugged and raised one of his curly gray eyebrows. “He still don’t like you much, does he?”

  Chapter Three

  The ME’s van pulled into the Winburn lot, just minutes after Radhauser and Sully arrived at Lithia Park. Two white-suited forensics men hurried over to Radhauser. The old man had been right. There were no obvious signs of blood or other evidence where he’d found the severed hand. Sully had marked the spot by circling the leafy area with small rocks.

  With Radhauser’s help, forensics cordoned off the section where the hand had been discovered.

  According to Sully, the hand had been partially buried beneath some decaying leaves and he probably wouldn’t have spotted it had the sun not struck the diamond in her ring.

  While forensics searched for evidence—a footprint, a dropped item, anything that might lead to the person who discarded the hand—Radhauser photographed the area. Neither the forensics team nor Radhauser found anything that couldn’t be explained by locals, kids and tourists meandering along the creek. They concluded the hand had been severed in another location, then brought to the playground—for reasons known only to the perp. But as a precaution, forensics began a search of the entire area.

  Eventually, Radhauser convinced Sully to go home and let them handle it from here on.

  “I’ll check in with you tomorrow,” the old man said. “Just in case you need my help. After all, the first person at the scene is important in a murder investigation. And I’m pretty sure the newspapers will want a first-hand interview with me. No pun intended.”

  Radhauser closed his eyes. There was no other gesture that could convey his exasperation. He stood very still for a moment, then opened his eyes and studied the traffic pattern through this area of the park. He watched Sully and Rodney join the residents and tourists who’d strolled through the lush gardens of blooming azaleas and rhododendrons. Spring was one of Lithia Park’s busiest seasons. He listened to the mountain snowmelt as it tumbled over rocks in Ashland Creek. The wind blew the new leaves on the trees above him, shifting the dappled light that fell in shadows on the ground where the severed hand had been found. Why was it left in that particular spot? What was the perp trying to say?

  Radhauser was certain of one thing. Because this park was a busy one, whoever left the hand must have done so last night under the cover of darkness. The chances the woman was still alive were slim, but the sooner they found her, the sooner they could search for the monster who’d do something like this. And whoever br
ought it here probably carried it in something—both to protect his clothing and to hide the hand from anyone passing by. Whatever that something was either left with the perp or was discarded.

  He jogged the short distance back to his office, stopping at Hazel’s desk on the way. “Find out when the trash is picked up in Lithia Park. If it hasn’t been done yet today, get Corbin and Matthews out there to collect the bags and sort through them.”

  She checked her watch. “I’m headed over to pick up McBride’s nephew, but I’ll call and find out before I leave.”

  He told her what he was looking for, then checked in with McBride. “How’d it go with the fingerprint?”

  "The skin is too dehydrated to get a good one." She handed him a small cooler, the type that was used to deliver organs. "I've packed it in ice, just in case. I struck out with the ERs, but I've already got people out ringing doorbells. Search and Rescue has called in their volunteers and is working with the state police."

  McBride spread the photos Sully had taken across her desktop. "I'm pretty sure you'll be interested in these."

  The hand was essentially buried beneath a mound of dried leaves. Only the finger with the ring was visible. It looked like the person who’d left it had taken great care to expose only the ring. That attention to detail had to mean something.

  “While you canvass jewelers, I’ll go see if Heron can rehydrate and lift some prints.” Maybe the ME could shed some light on when and what happened to this poor woman. Where was she?

  And was there even a remote possibility she was still alive?

  * * *

  The medical examiner’s office door was open. Radhauser stood inside the doorway for a moment, clutching the ice chest.

  Dr. Steven Heron sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his dark head bent over a pathology journal. He wore his usual blue-gray lab coat over dark gray slacks. The colors added credence to his resemblance to the great blue heron that roamed the banks of the local Rogue and Applegate Rivers.