Don't Say a Word (3 page)

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Authors: Beverly Barton

Tags: #romantic thriller

BOOK: Don't Say a Word
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“My brains are so massive, so impressive that they’d leave yours in the dust, Detective Cass.”
“That sounds highly unpleasant.”
“Okay, Jules. If you’re so brilliant, what’s the capital of Montana?”
“Helena.”
“What’s the capital of Wisconsin?”
“Madison.”
“North Dakota?”
“Bismarck.”
“Norway?”
“Oslo.”
“Thailand?”
“Bangkok.”
Will frowned. What was this girl, a geography major? “What’s the capital of Marakistan?”
“Batke.”
“Gotcha, Jules. I made that up.”
“So? I made mine up, too.”
They laughed together. Julia said, “Okay, your turn to answer some questions, Brannock. You look like you might be a real whiz at chemistry.”
“If it’s between a man and a woman, I know it well. I feel it now.”
Julia presented him with a quick and deprecating look. “Oh my, the charm of you. I don’t think I can stand it.”
“You can’t stand it in a bad way, or you’re so taken with me you can’t stand the excitement?”
She changed the subject. “What kind of weapon do you carry?”
“Glock Seventeen.”
“You’re kidding. I do, too. Seventeen-round magazine. Four-and-a-half-inch barrel.”
“Laser target indicator. Leather hip holster.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, I guess we’re just two peas in a pod.”
Julia laughed. “I bet I can shoot better than you.”
“I bet you can, too. J.D. brags to us now and then about all your sharpshooting medals.”
“Chicken.”
“I do happen to know how to shoot down anybody that gives me trouble,” Will told her.
“Are you including me in that remark?”
“Sure. Watch out. I’ve shot up plenty of defenseless women in my life.”
“I’m not defenseless, believe me.”
“No, and I haven’t shot that many women, either.”
“I have an idea. Why don’t you concentrate on your driving before you kill us both? I’m warning you, don’t even think about having a wreck with Jasper in the car. He’s dear to me.”
“Yes, ma’am, Detective Jules.”
That got another chuckle out of her, one she cut off almost at once. Will was more than pleased. Good grief, she might even like him a little. He actually made her forget to be prickly—for a few seconds, true, but, hey, that was a start. Crossing to the passing lane, Will increased his speed. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. He was eager to get Julia Cass home and then take his boat out on the lake. The crappie would be biting just before dark, and he meant to be there to catch a mess of them.
“You like fishing?” she suddenly asked him.
Well, the two of them were on the same wavelength, all right. “I was just thinking about fishing. Are you a psychic, or what?”
“You’ve got a Bass Pro Shops catalog on your floorboard. And fishing gear in the back. That’s the extent of my psychic abilities.”
“I do love to fish. Why?”
“Just wondered.”
If this woman loved Crimson Tide football, he was a goner. “You root for Alabama, I take it,” he said.
“You take it wrong. I hate Alabama. Tennessee’s my team, orange and white all the way, forever, and I have plenty of UT sweatshirts to prove it.”
“I hate Tennessee. Guess we can’t get married after all.”
“Boohoo,” Julia said.
“C’mon, Jules, you’re breaking my heart here.”
“Like I said, boohoo.”
Yep, he liked her. A lot. When his cell phone dinged, he pulled it off his belt and looked at the screen. It was his boss. “Yeah, this is Will Brannock.”
“You should pull over when you talk on your cell,” Julia advised him from the passenger seat.
The minute Will heard the somber tone of Phil Hayes’s gravelly voice, however, he kissed his fishing trip a fond see-you-later-maybe. One thing the special agent in charge of the Chattanooga field office did not do was call up to partake in some inane chitchat. “Where are you, Will?”
“On Twenty-Seven South, heading downtown. What’s going on?”
“We got a murder today, very high-profile. You familiar with the name Lucien Lockhart?”
“The judge?”
“Yeah, they found him dead today at his home in Woodstone Circle.”
“Wow, that’s an old-money neighborhood. Not what you want to hear.”
“That’s right. This is going to be big.”
“And we’ve got jurisdiction? I thought Lockhart sat on the state supreme court.”
“He did. Until he got appointed to the federal bench about a month ago. That drops this case into our lap. I want you to go lead on it. I’m at the scene now with Willie Mullins and some of his investigators. CPD secured it for us.”
Will glanced over at Julia, who was scratching Jasper’s ears and pretending not to listen to Will’s end of the conversation. “I’ve got Julia Cass with me. Willie hired her on in homicide. Should I bring her along? Let Willie advise her?”
“That’s J.D.’s sister, right? Yeah, Willie mentioned her to me. See if she wants to come along. Didn’t he tell me she was coming in today?”
“That’s right. I just picked her up at the airport.”
“What? Tell me,” Julia demanded, alert and all ears from the second her name was bandied about. “Bring me along where? What’s going on?”
Will finished his conversation with Phil, punched off, and explained the situation as concisely as he could.
“You bet I want to come along. Maybe Jasper can show off his stuff.”
“It’s a state investigation. TBI is in charge.”
“I gathered that. If Chief Mullins is there, he can fill me in on what he wants me to do. I’m sure the Chattanooga PD will be helping you out. We collaborated on cases in Nashville.”
Julia Cass seemed as eager as he was. She was certainly ready to get to work. Yet something else he liked about her. He took the next off-ramp and headed for the Woodstone Circle neighborhood. Looked like he might get a firsthand look at Julia Cass’s law enforcement skills, after all.
Chapter 2
Julia wasn’t quite sure what to think of Will Brannock. He was amusing enough, she’d give him that. She usually went in for funny guys. On the other hand, she kept seeing images in her head of that less-than-subtle romantic scene at the airport, with him pressing the buxom and eager flight attendant against the column. He wasn’t the kind of man she’d want to go out with, not if he holed up with every flight attendant that set down on a Chattanooga runway. But he was a friend of her brother’s and a law enforcement colleague, so they’d have to get along. He had been witty and pleasant enough taking her home, but now it was crunch time. It would be more than interesting to see how he would handle this investigation. He seemed as anxious as she to get to the scene and find out exactly what had happened to the judge. It wouldn’t take them long, either, not the way Will Brannock drove. He apparently had the ultracool Hummer souped up, had a heavy foot, and probably fantasized about driving at Talladega. All the joking from him was over, though. Now that he’d gotten the official summons, he was as serious as Sunday church.
As it turned out, Judge Lockhart had enjoyed quite a nice lifestyle. Woodstone Circle was in one of the most desirable areas of Chattanooga. Will told her the subdivision was built on a gated circle drive lined with mansions owned by some of the city’s elite. When they reached the entrance, Will pulled up and stopped at the massive gate. While he flashed his badge to the CPD officer controlling traffic, she looked at the wide oak-lined street and bet it took some serious bucks to buy a home in the private haven on the other side of this wall. As Will drove into the subdivision, she admired the homes, most of which were big and stately and hidden behind brick or stone walls and lush green vegetation.
Julia was new in town, but she recognized money and privilege when she saw it. And she saw it in the Lockhart mansion. It was bigger and more impressive than the other residences and located near a private neighborhood park that sported lots of old magnolia and pecan trees and lush green grass. Yessiree, these wide and shady avenues oozed
we’ve got lots of money and don’t mind showing it
. At the moment, the Lockhart enclave was not hard to find. Four CPD cruisers were parked around its private gated driveway, and uniformed police officers were still stretching out the yellow crime scene tape. Several unmarked cars were also there, no doubt belonging to Will’s TBI cohorts, but no sign of a medical examiner’s van.
Will flashed his badge and was motioned through the intricate wrought-iron gate and up the concrete driveway to where the house sat, surrounded by giant oaks and maples. A white brick wall encircled the grounds: emerald-green lawn and well-tended flower beds of blue hydrangeas and lots of snowball bushes. They pulled up beside a splashing, three-tier marble fountain with the Greek goddess Diana in the center, holding an urn overflowing with water. The house itself was
Gone with the Wind
-ish and built in the pillared, Greek Revival style. It had long galleries both upstairs and down, white brick chimneys, and a porte cochere on the east side. White spindle rockers and lacy wrought-iron tables sat on the galleries, and red geraniums, marigolds, and purple alyssum spilled out of big clay pots everywhere. Huge spidery green ferns hung in white pots at intervals along the upper gallery.
Will Brannock killed the engine and turned to her. “I need to talk to Phil. That’s him over there with Chief Mullins.”
Julia followed his pointing finger and saw two men standing together under one of the twin silver-leaf maple trees shading the front porch. “Let me get Jasper secured away from the scene, and I’ll go talk to the chief.”
Opening the passenger door and stepping down from the Hummer, she stood back and let Jasper leap to the ground, then led him by the leash deeper into the side yard. There was a small cluster of tulip poplars, replete with a white lattice arbor and bench, that would give him shade from the glaring sun. Luckily, an ornamental goldfish pond was nearby, in case Jasper got thirsty. The day was very hot. Now, just after midday, it was probably already nearing ninety degrees, and she knew from experience that it might take the forensic techs a long time to sweep the scene.
The victim was an important man, well-known, well connected, and a federal judge, to boot. Law enforcement would have to pull out all the stops in this investigation. She wondered if the news media of Chattanooga were the same kind of barracudas she’d had to deal with at the Nashville Police Department. If so, the very second the networks got wind of this sensational crime, they’d be all over the place with their satellite trucks and TV vans, and would cause the investigators a ton of grief and complications.
Stooping to stroke Jasper’s back for a moment, she watched the bloodhound lie down, his brown eyes questioning her, wanting to go to work. He was no stranger to crime scenes. He was ready to sniff out the villain. He loved his job as much as she loved hers. She stood, looked around, and watched Will Brannock approach the man he’d identified as Phil Hayes, who was dressed in a white dress shirt, yellow tie, and tan suit. Brannock had pulled on a black TBI cap. He towered over his boss, who had immediately started an animated conversation with Will.
Farther down the yard, at the end of the back porch, she could see Chief Mullins with some of his uniformed officers. She took a brush from her bag, brushed off her clothes thoroughly to rid herself of any trace of Jasper’s hair, and then headed at a swift clip toward her new chief. Excitement was burgeoning inside her. It had been awhile since she’d been on a homicide case like this one, and she hoped the Chattanooga PD would get to play an integral role in the investigation.
When Chief Mullins saw her approaching, he walked over to meet her. He was a handsome older gentleman with ebony skin and white hair, an all-around super-nice guy. J.D. had told her he was easygoing and even-tempered, with a keen intelligence that saw through any kind of deceit. She had liked him immediately when she’d come over from Nashville for the initial interview. He also happened to be the father of her new partner, Tamara Lovelady, which might or might not end up being a sticky situation. She had met Tam briefly, and had gotten good vibes from her, too. Petite and curvaceous, Tam was a lovely lady with caramel skin and coffee-colored brown eyes and a ready, friendly smile. J.D. had assured Julia that even though Tam was pretty much a rookie detective, she had proved herself very good at the job. If J.D. vouched for her, liked her, and trusted her, Julia knew that she and Tam would get along just fine.
“Glad you happened to be with Special Agent Brannock, Detective,” Chief Mullins said the moment she reached his side. “Looks like you’re gonna get a baptism by fire. I know you aren’t slated to start until next Monday, but now that you’re here, I’m gonna make use of your experience. I’m shorthanded in homicide with Tam out for the trial. J.D.’s caught up in that, too, right?”
“Yes, sir. I’m ready to go. I’ve been off duty way too long. Just tell me what you need.”
“TBI has full jurisdiction here, but Phil asked me to give him a liaison officer to help Will Brannock handle this investigation. You’ll be working hand in hand with him. You got any problem with that?”
Julia wasn’t at all sure about the
hand in hand
part, but she wasn’t about to say she didn’t want to work with Brannock. She wasn’t about to give up the opportunity to get involved in the case, either. “That’s fine with me. Let me make sure I understand the jurisdictions. He’ll be in complete charge. I’m here to help and assist. Right?”
“Right, but I think y’all will get along just fine. He’s an exceptional investigator, and from what I’ve heard, so are you.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best, I promise you that. Do I need to check in at headquarters before I start working with Brannock?”
“No. You got your badge and all the paperwork lined out last time you were here. You’re on your own from here on out. But be apprised, I want to be notified every step of the way, so I expect weekly written reports—more if you can find the time. E-mails are fine, if you’re out of the office, and you will be. Because of the notoriety of this murder, Phil might want a task force set up down at the TBI offices. If you need more help from our department or run into jurisdictional sticking points, just say the word and I’ll take care of it. I’ll support you one hundred percent.”
“I appreciate that, sir. I don’t anticipate anything like that happening.”
“C’mon then, let me show you what’s gone down here. The crime scene’s around back, and damn gruesome, too.”
Julia followed him down a flagstone path that rounded the south end of the house. A large, rectangular aquamarine pool sparkled in the sunlight in the middle of the flagstone patio behind the house. Rosebushes in neatly tended beds lined paths that meandered through a myriad of shade and fruit trees. Julia could almost visualize the lady of the house wandering along through the garden and snipping fragrant red roses to display in a crystal vase on her glossy dining room table.
“This house has been in the Lockhart family for years,” Chief Mullins was telling her. “The family made its money in the lumber business, and most of the patriarchs for the last five decades have been attorneys or judges. They also have been known to associate with criminal elements from time to time, so I can’t say I’m especially surprised Lucien ended up dead by violence.”
“Did you know him personally, Chief Mullins?”
“Yes, I did. He was a charming old gentleman, but you trusted him at your own peril, if you know what I mean. Hate to speak unkindly of the departed, but the truth’s the truth. I call it the way I see it.”
As they moved along the sun-dappled path, Julia caught her first sight of the victim. Lucien Lockhart’s body was on the back porch, hanging by the neck from a yellow ski rope tied to a thick wood rafter. Will Brannock was already there, standing on the lawn directing the CPD officers and police technicians to stay off the porch. She glanced at Willie Mullins, wondering if he resented the TBI taking charge of the scene and ordering his people around.
Chief Mullins seemed to sense her question. “We work well with the TBI here in Chattanooga. They helped us bring down the Rocking Chair killer. Your brother was lead on that one and did a hell of a good job. So did Will Brannock. It hit a little too close to home for a lot of us. Audrey Sherrod, especially.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Audrey Sherrod was J.D.’s new girlfriend. Julia had met her several times and had been rather impressed. She was quite a nice lady, not the kind of woman Julia was used to seeing her brother date, but Audrey was a good influence on him. One thing for sure, she had made him happier than Julia had ever seen him, and that was all Julia cared about.
When they reached Will Brannock, the chief addressed him directly. “I’ve assigned Detective Cass as the CPD detective to help you on this case. Phil asked for our assistance, and we’re glad to oblige.”
Will looked down at Julia, and she wasn’t exactly sure that he was pleased that they’d be working together. All the previous levity on his part had flown the coop; he was dead serious and his next words proved it. “Okay, just so you know, Detective. I’m in charge. You follow my orders, understand?”
Not exactly thrilled by that little speech or his condescending attitude, Julia nodded politely and prayed he wasn’t hopelessly clueless about investigatory procedures. She had no idea what kind of experience he’d had with the TBI. J.D. had never mentioned Will’s background to her. Come to think of it, he’d never mentioned much about Will that wasn’t job-related.
“Phil called in our crime scene vehicle out of Knoxville when he got the call early this morning, Chief. They should make it here any time now,” Will said to Chief Mullins. “He thought it best under the circumstances.”
Mullins nodded. “That’s fine with me. We’ve got two other murder cases that we picked up yesterday. I need my investigators to work those scenes, as soon as we can get them there.”
As Chief Mullins moved away to speak with Phil Hayes, Will said, “Well, looks like we’re working together right off the bat, Detective.”
“Sure does.” Julia pulled Jasper’s grooming brush out of her back pocket. “You might want to get rid of any dog hair on your clothes before we get started. Wouldn’t want to contaminate the scene.”
“Right. Thanks.”
While Will moved a few yards away to brush himself down, Julia walked down the sidewalk to where Judge Lucien Lockhart’s body was hanging. She stood there for a moment by herself, observing the scene while it was still basically undisturbed, realizing at once that this murder wasn’t some random act of violence. The victim had definitely been staged. He was naked except for a pair of white swim trunks, and blood had streaked its way from his mouth, down his chin, and over his chest and legs. Below his dangling feet, the killer had placed a small set of metal scales with a crossed-swords finial. What did that mean? The scales of justice? Some kind of equality statement?
“Here, put these on,” Brannock told her, handing her plastic gloves and paper booties. She snapped on the gloves and stretched the paper booties over her white Nikes. Brannock already had on his protective gear.
“Is that what I think it is on the left side of that scale?” she asked him.
“We think it’s part of the judge’s tongue. It looks to me like the perp pulled his tongue out and sliced it off about three inches back. He left it here for us to find and took the tip of the tongue with him. A souvenir, I guess.”

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