Scent of Murder (10 page)

One of the things that lured Hallett into his chosen career was reruns of TV shows like
Hill Street Blues
and
Miami Vice
. Now he recognized the shows were a product of excellent writing and not necessarily any research at all. In fact, as best Hallett could tell, Sonny Crockett, the hero of
Miami Vice
, could shoot people one moment and be ready to fish the next. The sign of a true psychopath.

Real life for a cop was much different. It was different from TV, different from public perception, and different from any other profession in the United States. A modern cop had to be able to adapt and think on his or her feet, generally had some college education, had to be familiar with the law, and had to be able to deal with other professionals like lawyers, as well as be tough enough to withstand a physical assault if it came to that.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when a young woman, about twenty-five, with long, dark hair tied neatly behind her, wearing green fatigue pants and a gray shirt that identified her as a crime scene technician, smiled and said, “Hi.” She had intelligent brown eyes and a very pretty face. It took Hallett a moment to figure out where he knew her from. She was the technician at the scene when Rocky found the missing girl.

The pretty evidence technician said, “I'm Lori, Lori Tate,” and stuck out her hand.

Hallett shook her hand as he tried to gather his wits and mumbled, “I'm Tim Hallett.”

Lori gave a quick laugh. “Everyone knows you and Rocky. You guys did a great job yesterday.” She looked at Rocky and asked Hallett, “Is it okay if I pet him?”

This girl was sharp. Most of the uniformed cops didn't have enough sense not to harass a trained dog without permission. More than one patrolman had been nipped on the hand by a moody canine. Rocky was good about attention from other people, but that didn't mean he always liked it. It was one of the areas Ruben had been helping Hallett understand. Rocky displayed subtle indicators of what he enjoyed and what he didn't. Sometimes it was the angle of his head or the movement of his tail. The longer Hallett spent with Rocky the more he understood.

In turn, Rocky had learned from Hallett's different postures. If he stood with his right leg back and his hand resting on the butt of his gun, Rocky was ready to pounce on anyone in a heartbeat. If he stood with his arms folded or leaning against the wall, Rocky would take that opportunity to sit and rest for a moment.

Now Hallett looked at the beautiful girl in front of him, then down at Rocky and noticed the dog's head bowed slightly as he anticipated a gentle rub. Hallett smiled and said, “I don't think you'll get any argument from Rocky.”

Lori kneeled down directly in front of Rocky and ruffled the hair between his ears. It was obvious the burly Belgian Malinois had been instantly tamed by this evidence technician. After a minute of rubbing Rocky, Lori stood and said, “What're you two doing here?”

“Our whole unit is going to help out in the investigation of whoever grabbed that girl.”

“It's good to be making use of your investigative experience.”

Hallett felt his face flush as he realized the girl knew about his career in the detective bureau.

He kept calm and said, “I think they're more interested in Rocky's skills than mine.”

“With a case like this I think any help we can get is important. I'm looking forward to working with you.” She cast a quick, sharp glance toward Fusco working at his desk, and Hallett realized they shared the same feelings toward the brash detective.

*   *   *

Junior peered through a set of hunting binoculars that belonged to his father. It was one of the few things of value he had gotten from the old bully before he packed him away in his new home. The afternoon sun cast odd shadows over her body. The girl was stretched out in the front yard of an old Florida shithole of a house on a cheap plastic lounge chair. She had on a green sundress and had clearly grown out of the awkward stage.

His head was spinning at the speed of his own actions. But now it felt right. Thank God he had the freedom at his job to come and go. No one ever asked questions. Everyone was overwhelmed.

Junior wasn't about to risk driving past the house, even if he was driving an F-150 pickup truck he had taken from the outskirts of a Home Depot parking lot. His hope was that the truck belonged to a manager who wouldn't walk outside until after the store closed. He'd easily have the truck back in time, even though he wouldn't be able to hide the effects of hot-wiring it. Junior was willing to bet the car owner would write it off as a failed burglary attempt and probably not even report it to the police. One of the benefits of his chosen profession was learning things like how to hot-wire a car. It was amazing what people were willing to show others to prove how smart they were.

He hadn't thought he'd get started in earnest so quickly, but he saw the opportunity. The time might come when those things changed and he'd be forced to either move on or act radically. But for now he liked the idea of getting back into the groove of things immediately.

Tina Tictin wasn't the same kind of eighteen as Katie Ziegler. He knew she had flunked out of beautician school and had been in trouble with some boys in the neighborhood when she was younger. She hadn't even pretended to look for a job or find a class to take today. He'd seen her around the house as early as noon.

He watched as she stood from the lounger and stretched her long, lithe body, lifting the sundress high on her hips. She pulled the tie from her curly black hair and shook her head, which gave her a wild look. He wondered if she expected people to be watching from the other houses and she was just showing off.

She walked inside, and he considered calling it a day. He set down the binoculars and checked his watch. If he'd had a clear opportunity he would've acted, but Junior wasn't about to risk discovery.

He froze as he saw her come back out of the house, now wearing a pair of sandals with three inch heels. She walked with purpose up the street toward the convenience store where he was parked in the corner of the parking lot.

His chance might have come.

 

10

Ten minutes after arriving, Hallett sat in the sergeant's office across the room from a restless John Fusco, who obviously felt it was a waste of time bringing Hallett up to speed on the case. Rocky was sitting next to him while Fusco made sure the sergeant realized he had made no mistakes on this investigation, and he absently rubbed Rocky's head. Rocky had the same effect as a tranquilizer on Hallett in situations like this. He had to keep the dog close and continue to rub his head in order to keep his cool. It was a crutch, but one Hallett never wanted to give up.

The sergeant said, “We believe the incident yesterday is connected with two earlier abductions that happened over the course of two years. I think you've read the briefing. The fact that it was different police departments working each case didn't help anything.”

Hallett controlled a shudder when he thought about what the creep did to the girls.

Fusco said, “Katie Ziegler sealed it in my mind. We're dealing with one suspect. That makes this a serial case. Not only will everyone in the sheriff's office be looking to me for results, the media will be all over it.”

Hallett said, “Where does CAT come in?”

The sergeant said, “We'll use you in several different areas. But mainly, like I said last night, we have a list of potential suspects, our usual suspects, convicted child predators living in the county and matching the vague description Katie Ziegler gave. Although I told the captain you and the CAT would be available for other emergencies, I hope we have full use of you for at least a week or two. We want to try to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

Hallett couldn't resist looking across at the sharply dressed detective and saying, “We'll be happy to bail out Detective Fusco. This is exactly what our unit was made for. It doesn't matter what kind of mistakes he's made in the case already, we'll help grab this guy, especially if it's Arnold Ludner.” He noticed the sergeant didn't say anything and was trying to hide a smile. She probably realized this arrogant ass needed to be put in his place.

Fusco nearly jumped to his feet, saying, “I wasn't even working the case for the first two abductions. And Ludner wasn't even considered a suspect as far as I can tell. The girls that have been kidnapped by this guy were older than the ones Ludner liked. The first girl was seventeen”—he looked at some notes—”the second girl was twenty, and Katie Ziegler is eighteen.”

Rocky reacted to the outburst by standing and flexing his back. It had the desired effect on the detective, who immediately regained his composure.

Hallett said, “What about forensics? There really wasn't any DNA found?” Now he was just trying to rile the detective.

“This ain't
CSI: Miami.
We did a rape kit on all three girls, but there wasn't anything obviously worthwhile. The first girl, two years ago, admitted to consensual sex with two other men before she was grabbed. Plus he never penetrated any of the girls vaginally. As far as we can tell he prefers oral sex and leaves no semen at the scene. The second girl waited eight days before she even reported it. And Katie got away before the asshole could do anything.” He waited a moment and threw in a halfhearted “Thank God.”

Hallett knew that a guy like Fusco only cared about clearing the case. He really wasn't happy that the girl hadn't been raped, because a rape would've provided him with some decent DNA to enter into the database run by the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. Detectives like Fusco saw victims as potential evidence and not much else.

Fusco said, “I think the guy was even smart enough to pick up the blindfold that Katie had ripped off. All we have is the one rag that may, or may not, be from our suspect. And your dog sniffed it. Maybe he can match us up with Ludner when it's time.”

Hallett said, “You think the plaster cast of the shoe is anything worthwhile?”

Fusco just snorted.

Sergeant Greene said, “We'll look at it. One of the techs pointed out that it's a hiking boot with a waffle bottom, missing one of the rubber squares in the heel. It might come in handy.”

Fusco mumbled, “Bullshit.”

Sergeant Greene looked at Hallett and said in her usual even tone, “I got your unit assigned to us for assistance. I'm going to go by your guidance as far as the dogs are concerned. I know they can do a lot, but you know the capabilities better than anyone.”

Hallett wanted to play it cool but blurted out, “Will I be able to check out Ludner?”

The sergeant hesitated, then slowly nodded and said, “You can, but no direct contact yet. The TAC guys haven't even seen him around his house. Fusco's going to talk to his probation officer tomorrow and see if we can get a better fix on him. I'll send Claire Perkins with him so your whole unit will be involved from here on out.”

Hallett felt a flicker of excitement at the prospect of facing the biggest creep he had ever met in his years of police work.

*   *   *

An hour later, in the detective bureau squad bay, Hallett wanted to be certain Claire knew what her assignment would entail. When the sergeant said she would work closely with Fusco, Hallett felt his stomach turn. It took him an hour to realize that Fusco probably wasn't a bad guy to work with. He just didn't want to do it.

Hallett was happy the sergeant was perceptive enough not to stick Darren Mori with the bullying detective. Darren appeared to be reserved, but Hallett knew he had a temper. Almost no one in the sheriff's office knew he had the skills to back up that temper. No matter how funny it would've been to see Fusco find out what one of his smart comments might cost him, Hallett didn't want his partner to get in trouble.

Now, looking professional in a sharp uniform, Claire Perkins stood her ground and offered a firm handshake and listened to what Fusco had to say.

Fusco, wearing an expensive Joseph Abboud suit, looked from Claire to Smarty. Claire strategically had the dog sit right next to her and stare at Fusco. Hallett could see how the dog would intimidate anyone.

Fusco stammered, “I guess you're coming with me to talk to the probation officer in the morning.”

Claire just nodded and said, “I'll be ready anytime you want.”

“Meet me here about eight thirty and we can drive over in my car.”

Claire shook her head and said, “I won't leave Smarty alone in the Tahoe. And you wouldn't care to be a passenger with him in the back. We better take separate cars.”

Hallett wanted to smile but suppressed the urge.

Fusco, to his credit, kept his calm and plowed ahead. He showed Claire and Hallett a forensic artist's rendering of the suspect from Katie Ziegler's vague description. Fusco said, “This is the same creep that grabbed the other two girls. I can feel it.”

Then Claire asked the right question. “Do you think the guy is on our suspect list?”

The way Fusco hesitated told Hallett everything he needed to know. All Fusco said was, “It's possible.”

Hallett had to admit he was impressed at the detective's openness. Some men were thrown off by Claire's appearance. Even with a big dog and wearing fatigues, she was pretty. But now Fusco had to realize she was smart, too.

Fusco said, “I'm not convinced it's one of these guys. The asshole could be anyone, but we gotta tell the sheriff we're doing something. The media has gotta be satisfied, too. I can think of worse leads we've run out on.”

*   *   *

Junior could tell by the way Tina shoved the door of the convenience store open when she came out that she was pissed off about something. Then she spoke to a man in his midthirties before he walked into the store. When the man shook his head and walked past her, Junior realized she was trying to get someone to buy her a beer. She asked a woman a minute later. The woman not only refused, she scolded Tina.