Minutes to Kill (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Brody stepped out of the courtroom, pulled out his cell phone, and turned it on. He scrolled through his messages and paused on one from Vinnie Schooler, a forensic investigator with the CSI division. Nodding hello to a passing assistant prosecutor, he walked to the end of the corridor and returned Vinnie’s call.

“Hey, Brody. I got something for you on your Jane Doe case.”

“Something good?”

“I think so.”

Brody pivoted and strode for the exit. “I’m just leaving the courthouse. I’ll stop by in three minutes.”

The majority of the county municipal buildings were located in a large complex. Brody drove a quarter mile down the road, passed the ME’s office, and parked in front of the CSI unit. Vinnie was waiting for him. Olive complexioned, with black hair and eyes, he looked Sicilian enough to be confused with a Corleone. Vinnie sported a five o’clock shadow by noon.

“Thanks for calling.” Brody followed him down to the forensics lab. “What do you have for me?”

“Hair. Some of these samples were found on the victim’s clothing. Others came from the body.” Vinnie crossed to the countertop. He opened a cardboard box and removed a slide. He held it between his fingertips. A single strand of long brown hair was coiled on the slide. “That’s the victim’s hair.” Vinnie exchanged the slide for another. “This is a different person’s hair.”

The sample was short and blond. Brody stepped away from the counter. “Be nice if we had a suspect to match that to.”

“That’s your job.” Vinnie removed another slide.

“Can you extract DNA?”

“Possibly. But that’s not all I have for you.”

Brody glanced down at a short black hair between the thin sheets of glass. “More hair?”

Vinnie shook his head. “Dog fur. We found fur from at least six different dogs. We haven’t analyzed them for specific breed yet,” Vinnie grinned. “But either she really loves dogs . . .”

“Or maybe she works with them.” Ideas reeled through Brody’s head. She could work for a dog groomer, vet, animal shelter, or she visited some place where she was exposed to numerous animals.

“That’s all I have for now.” Vinnie stepped away from the microscope. “But I’m still sorting through the trace evidence. I’ll call you if I come up with anything else that’s interesting.”

“Thanks.” Brody left the lab and went back to the police station. He knocked on the chief’s door.

“Come in,” the chief answered.

Brody pushed through.

Chief Horner leaned back and gave Brody his full attention as he succinctly explained what Vinnie had found.

“Let’s get this done quickly,” the chief said. “Pull a patrol officer to help you chase down this lead.”

“Who would you like me to use?” Brody asked.

“Officer Dane came to mind first.”

“Any specific reason?” Brody rested a fist on his hip.

“As the first officer on scene, she’s the most familiar with the case.” The chief nodded. “Do you think she’s detective material?”

A small tinge of sadness eased through Brody. The chief was considering Chet’s replacement. As much as he’d rather work alone, he had to be realistic. He needed help. Chet’s career was over, and the second detective slot needed to be filled. Someone was getting promoted. “I do. Her attention to detail is excellent.”

“She is very thorough.” The chief picked up a packet of papers on his desk. “I have to clear my morning to read her reports.”

Brody nodded. “Yes, but all those details are important when a case goes to trial two years after an arrest.”

The chief sighed. “You’re right. Lance is my other top candidate.”

“Lance is also a solid cop. Thankfully, that’ll be your decision. My job is to identify that body.” Brody kept his distance from department politics.

He exited the chief’s office. Stella had been on night shift this week. Officers rotated shifts on a biweekly basis. She’d probably be asleep. But he had no doubt the prospect of helping with an investigation would wake her up.

He called her on her cell phone and explained the situation. “Are you game?”

“Yes. Definitely.” Her voice shifted from groggy to excited in an instant. “When do you want me to start?”

“How fast can you get here?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Half hour.”

In thirty minutes, she met him in the small conference room. She held a cardboard drink carrier in one hand and a bakery box in the other.

“With my thanks.” She handed him a coffee.

“No need to thank me. But I’ll take the coffee.”

Stella opened the box. “Apple cider donut? They won’t last five minutes once I put them out there.” She jerked her thumb at the doorway.

“Can’t say no to one of those.” Brody took a donut.

“I already had two.” Stella went out into the main room and set the box on the counter.

Brody ate the pastry in two bites.

“What are we doing?” Excitement shone from her eyes.

Brody handed her a sheet of paper. “There are thirty-seven vets, kennels, groomers, and dog trainers in Randolph County. We’re calling them all to see if anyone is missing a young female employee. If we don’t come up with anything, we’ll expand our search to the surrounding counties.”

“How far down the list have you gotten?”

“Just started.”

Stella dropped into the chair and tucked an escaped strand of long black hair back into the severe knot at the base of her neck. “Give me the bottom half of the list.”

By lunchtime, they had thirty-six negative responses and one line with no answer. “This is starting to seem pointless.”

Brody stood and stretched. “Let’s take a break. We’ll grab a sandwich and stop at this kennel where no one answered the phone. Then we’ll attack the next county this afternoon.”

Brody unlocked his county sedan. “You want to eat first or run out to the kennel?” he asked over the roof.

“Let’s do the kennel. I’m still full of donuts.” Stella got into the passenger seat.

He started the car. “You ate six.”

“And they were fantastic.” She patted her belly. The soft chatter of the radio underscored their conversation.

Brody drove to the highway and eased into the right lane. Afternoon traffic was light. “How far is it?”

Stella consulted the address. “Two miles.”

A minute later, Brody slowed at the sight of lights flashing ahead of them. An SFPD cruiser had pulled over a minivan.

“That’s Lance,” Stella said as they passed. “The turn is just ahead.”

Brody eased his foot off the gas and turned onto a narrow one-lane country road. An empty field ran along the left side of the road. To the right, trees and underbrush grew close to the pavement.

“There it is.” Stella pointed to a break in the foliage. A sign nailed to a tree read Scarlet Creek Kennels. The metal gate stood open. Brody turned onto the dirt lane. A tan mobile home perched on an incline. Shrubs surrounded the foundation. Behind the house, barking erupted from a brown one-story building resembling a barn. Dogs barked from a dozen long, narrow runs. A few run-down outbuildings dotted the property.

Brody parked in a gravel rectangle next to the kennel and used his radio to report their location. He and Stella crossed the gravel lot and went through the open door to the barnlike building. A large open space housed rows of dog runs. In the open space in front of the kennels, colored nylon leashes hung on wall pegs. Hallways led in both directions. A sign with a gold arrow directed them down a hallway to an office.

“Hello?” Brody called out.

The dogs that had been outside rushed in, leaving the heavy rubber dog doors flapping. Barking echoed in the space. Inside the runs, piles of feces dotted the concrete. He walked to the closest chain-link gate. A black lab whined and wagged on the other side. Two stainless steel bowls sat empty.

“Remind me never to board my dog here.” Stella stuck her fingers through the chain links of a kennel gate. A wiggling spaniel on the other side licked her fingers.

“I don’t like it. Something is wrong here.” He scanned the runs. “No one has cleaned these kennels for at least a couple of days. Water bowls are low or empty.”

The din in the kennel dimmed as some of the dogs settled.

“Let’s see if anyone is in the office.” Brody led the way out of the main kennel area. The door closed behind them, muffling the noise. Following the “Office” sign, they turned down the corridor. Brody glanced in open doorways as they walked. Storage rooms held dog food and grooming supplies. One room contained a washtub and a stainless steel grooming stand. The office door was open. He knocked on the jamb and poked his head inside. No one sat behind the metal desk.

They went outside. The same
being watched
feeling that had bugged Brody outside Hannah’s this morning whispered across his nape. “I don’t like it.”

Stella shrugged. “Maybe no one’s home.”

“I think somebody’s here.” Brody could feel eyes on him. “Call for backup. Maybe they’ll open the door for a uniform.”

Dispatch reported back that a unit was en route.

“Probably Lance.” Stella leaned on the car. “We’ll need to get the SPCA officers out here to see to those dogs.”

“As soon as we know the property is clear, we can make sure they all have water.”

When Lance arrived, he got out of his patrol car, and Brody filled him in on the situation.

They went up to the door. Stella rang the bell, and Lance hung back, his gaze scanning the windows. No one answered. Brody thumped on the door with his fist.

“Police,” he called.

A creak sounded from inside the house.

“We need to ask you a few questions,” Brody yelled.

Craning his neck to peer into the front window, Lance moved sideways.

A gunshot cracked. Glass broke. Lance’s body jerked and folded to the ground.

Stella shouted into the radio on her collar, “Officer down.”

Hannah closed her eyes and retold the story. Her hand stroked the dog sitting at her side. Though she tried to stick to the facts, panic crawled around inside her as she detailed the last minute of the attack, Jewel being dragged out of the rental car. Sweat broke out on her back. Chet got up and went downstairs. Floorboards squeaked and water rushed. He came back a minute later with a glass of ice water in his hand.

He handed it to Hannah. “Sounds like you did everything you could.”

Unsure if she could swallow in her tight throat, she took a very small sip. The icy liquid soothed. “It doesn’t feel that way.” Her mind rewound to last spring. She pictured Carson being chased and the fire at Lee’s house. It hadn’t felt like she’d done enough then either.

“Never does, after the fact.” Chet squinted at her. Guilt puckered his brow. “I’m sorry I acted like an asshole last night. You got pulled into another dangerous situation because of me.”

“Brody sent me outside. It was my choice to go back into the bar.”

“I heard you took out two dudes with a cue stick.”

She sighed. “I didn’t see many options.”

“Brody said it was because of you that he didn’t have to shoot anyone. So thank you.”

Heat flushed her neck. The three drunken bikers had been intimidating, but not frightening in the same bowel-cramping way as the threat to Jewel or Carson. It was one thing to risk her own life, but she felt an entirely different level of fear when young innocents were in danger.

“I would have felt responsible if Brody had killed somebody off-duty because I was a drunken jerk.” Chet snorted. “Cops have enough threats to deal with when they’re on shift.”

Hannah drank more water. “Is his job normally dangerous?”

Chet folded his arms over his chest. “Scarlet Falls used to be a really quiet place. But as folks migrate out of the cities into the country, gangs and drugs and crime follow them. Also, some people just suck, and there isn’t a damned thing anyone can do about that. Your brother’s murder is a perfect example. I was on my bender when it happened, but I heard about it. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Hannah stared at the ice bobbing in her glass. “Lee used to call me every weekend. Sometimes when my phone rings on a Sunday, I still expect it to be him.”

Chet nodded. “And when it isn’t him, it’s like being kicked in the nuts all over again. Metaphorically speaking.”

Hannah laughed. “Yes, I suppose that’s a pretty good analogy.”

“Well, thanks for watching Brody’s back.”

She thought back to Brody’s convenience-store shooting. “I’m glad I was there. I wish someone had been there for him in Boston.”

“He told you about the shooting?” Chet’s eyebrow lifted. “That’s not something he ever talks about, not with anyone.”

“He didn’t dwell on it,” Hannah said. Neither her brother nor her father ever wanted to talk about their experiences in combat.

Chet clasped his hands, leaned forward, and rested his forearms on his thighs. “I bet he didn’t mention the commendation he received?”

“No.” But that didn’t surprise her.

“Well, he did. He saved three people.”

“But at a huge cost to himself.”

“Yeah.” Chet stared at his joined hands for a few seconds. “So thanks for helping him out. I’m really glad he didn’t have to shoot anyone because I was an idiot.” His change in tone suggested he knew how Brody felt, and that he was done talking about it. “Besides, you can’t imagine how much paperwork a shooting requires.”