Her Grave Secrets (Rogue River Novella Book 3) (4 page)

“Stevie around?” Seth glanced over his shoulder.

“No, she’s out on a call.” Zane grinned. “The Campbells’ cows got out again.”

Seth snorted. “What else is new? I don’t know if they hate the Campbells’ feed mixture or what, but I’ve never seen escape artists like that herd. Nice to see you aren’t giving her any favoritism on the patrol calls.”

“I think she flipped a coin on the call with Carter and lost.”

Seth leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs, his expression deadly serious. “I’m kind of glad she’s not here for this discussion, because I want your input on who would murder Bill.”

Zane took a deep breath. “I’ve been asking myself the same question all day. He was the chief of police and a cop for forty years. He’s bound to have made some enemies. There’s no way he took the drug for recreation. We all know that. Someone slipped it to him, but no one is automatically coming to mind. Where is the task force on narrowing down the possibilities for the distribution and manufacturing site?”

Seth slumped back in his chair. “I feel like we’re spinning our wheels. All we’ve found are a bunch of dead ends. Our best lead was when Peter Rollins found drugs stashed in a hollowed-out tree. Or he said that’s where he found them. We’ve combed that area with no other results.”

“I saw you had two more deaths at the coast from C-22.”

“Yes, two guys in their twenties who decided to take it for their Saturday-night enjoyment. It didn’t work out so well for them.” Seth shook his head.

“You’d think people would stop taking it with all the deaths that are happening. Why play with a loaded gun?”

“The last guy I interviewed said the high is incredible and that it’s worth the risk. He’d taken it dozens of times.”

“Who was his supplier?”

“One of the dead guys.” Seth held up his hands. “We can’t catch a break in this case. It’s been going on for months. Something or somebody has to crack soon.”

“At least it hasn’t struck Solitude too bad. I think the death of Ted Warner effectively knocked out the Solitude distribution line. At least temporarily.” Zane frowned. “You heard about Roy Krueger, right?”

“I heard his body turned up and that the scene was a bad one. That’s two big blows for the Taylor family this week. Rumor says it was suicide?”

“You can squash that rumor right now. He was murdered. Double tap to the back of the head.”

Seth straightened and his brows shot up. “What? This is crazy. The two former highest-ranking police officials in Solitude were murdered? Jesus.”

“Has Roy’s name come up with the drug task force at all?”

“No. Should it?”

“For a man who claimed to have financial difficulties, he’s got a shed full of expensive toys. Big-boy toys. A boat, a pair of WaveRunners, and a ton of new fishing and hunting gear.”

“Holy shit.” Seth ran his hands through his hair. “If that doesn’t say drug money, I don’t know what does. The execution-style shots indicate it too.” Seth paused. “This sounds like Los Angeles, not Solitude.”

“I think we need to keep Bill’s drug tests quiet for now. Whoever slipped the drug to him has been happily enjoying the fact that his death was blamed on a heart attack. Let’s let them keep thinking that.”

“Unless they’re already dead,” added Seth. “What if it was Roy who overdosed him? Or Ted Warner?”

“Then I still want to find the manufacturer. Someone in this corner of the state is making a lot of money off an unstable mix of chemicals.”

“And the addicts love it. They keep going back for more bacon.”

“Stupid name for a deadly drug.”

Seth raised one brow. “I found it quite accurate. That fatty shit can eventually kill you.”

“You’ll have to add Roy’s murder to the task force’s investigation,” said Zane. “Stevie and I went out to his place last night to collect evidence, but the house seems really clean. We didn’t see any evidence that his murder took place on his property. I suspect we’ll find that he went to the river to meet someone.”

“I assume you brought in his computer for processing?” Seth asked.

“I’d heard he wasn’t a tech-oriented guy, but he didn’t even have a home computer. How does anyone function without the Internet these days? We grabbed some file folders of bank records to go through.” Zane’s phone rang. “I bet this is Hank from the ME’s office. He was going to give me some preliminary results on Roy’s autopsy. You want to hang around for this?”

“You bet.”

Zane hit the speakerphone button. “Zane Duncan.”

“Zane, it’s Hank, this time still good?”

“Yep. And I’ve got Seth Harding here with me. You mind if he listens in?”

“Nope. That’ll save me another phone call,” Hank said. “How’s Brianna doing, Seth?”

“Growing like a weed. Looks like her mother.”

“Then she’s a lucky girl.” Hank’s tone changed into business mode. “Say, Zane, I found those two .22s in the brain matter just like I thought I would. I’ve set them aside to go to the state lab. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll link them to some other crimes.”

“What about the dirt analysis you were going to run?” Zane asked. “Is it too early for that?”

“Nope. That was the easy part. The dirt under the body had blood—a lot of it. I think we were looking at our murder site. I’m glad the first cops to arrive treated it like a crime scene, because it preserved a lot of evidence.”

“I think Carter was too terrified to get close once he saw the skull,” Zane said ruefully. “I guess that’s better than an overeager cop who’d pick it up. What else do you have?”

“Nothing has persuaded me that the two shots to the back of the head weren’t the cause of death. I’ve examined what’s left of him—we’re missing quite a few pieces, by the way. I think we got lucky that the tree fell. I have a hunch it preserved a lot of the skeleton even though it was crushed. I told you there were gnaw marks on the ends of some of the bones, right? And most of the little bones of the hands and feet were gone. Scavengers doing their work. They left gnaw marks on the skull too. There might have been only the skull for us to find if the tree hadn’t protected the rest of the bones from critters.”

“I heard one rumor circulating that his hands had been cut off to hide his identity,” Zane said. “I wanted to refute it, but I didn’t have the evidence.”

“Definitely not cut off. That’s an easy one to prove,” said Hank. “No saw or cut marks on the wrist or arm bones. I haven’t met a criminal yet who could cut off a hand without leaving evidence on the other bones. And why leave his teeth if they’re trying to hide his identity? Teeth are much better records for identification; even the average Joe knows that these days. Any more questions for me?”

Zane looked to Seth, who asked, “Any evidence of C-22 in his system?”

“I’ve requested the tests. That’s a little bit harder to pull from skeletal remains. I’ll let you know.”

Hank ended the call.

“I guess the C-22 doesn’t matter much if he had two bullet holes in his head,” Seth stated. “Do you mind if I send a county forensics team through Roy’s house?”

“I’d appreciate it. I want every rock looked under in Roy’s case. Bill’s too.” Zane held Seth’s gaze. “These two cases are personal.”

Stevie smiled as she watched Zane pull his Jeep into a parking space at her apartment building. After a small initial uproar, the town had grown used to seeing the police chief’s personal vehicle in her lot overnight a few times a week. Sheila at the office had been the first one to pull Stevie aside and tell her that tongues were wagging.

“Let them wag,” Stevie had said. “Everyone knows we’re seeing each other. We’re not going to pretend we’re virgins. It’s not like we’re both seventeen and have been caught naked in his backseat out at O’Rourke’s Lake.”

Small Town Rule #7: Park a few blocks away unless you want the whole town knowing your business.

She’d even made a point of kissing Zane in the apartment parking lot in full view of several windows. On the job they were professional, but the minute they both left for the day, they had the right to act like any other couple in love.

Yes, she was in love.

He’d said the three little words about a month ago, blurting them out for the first time one night as she was leaving his cabin to get home and sleep, because she’d promised to go fishing at the crack of dawn with her brother Bruce. He’d held tight to her hand, reluctant to let her go for the evening, and the same words had slipped from her mouth, where she’d been holding tight to them for a few weeks.

She’d missed her fishing date.

She was dating a total hottie. So much for her mantra of never dating another cop. But Zane was different. He was loyal, honest, and straightforward. Nothing like her cop ex-boyfriend in LA had been.

She watched Zane jog across the parking lot, his face more relaxed than she’d seen all day at the office. They were both good about setting the day’s work aside and focusing on other aspects of their lives, but Roy’s murder scene had changed that. It’d been too close to their hearts. Last night they’d talked late into the evening about his death, and today there’d been the crushing news that her father might have been killed by the new street drug.

She hadn’t told her mother yet. After the emotional scene this morning, she couldn’t stomach another round. Tomorrow, she promised herself. Maybe Carly could go with her, or Zane. Someone to help carry the load. Her father was still dead; that hadn’t changed. But the thought that someone had purposefully struck out at him with the intent to take his life was enough to make her want to crawl in bed for a week with the covers over her head.

Everyone in Solitude had loved her father.

Or so she’d thought.

She moved across her apartment, scooting around a pile of boxes waiting to be unpacked. She’d been in her apartment for over two months, but it still looked like she’d moved in yesterday. Should she simply donate the unopened boxes to Goodwill? Clearly she didn’t need whatever was in them. Occasionally she’d go on a hunt for an elusive book or kitchen tool, but she seemed to survive on what she’d unpacked. She pulled the door open as Zane lifted his hand to knock.

He smiled at her and all her worries evaporated. He stepped through the door, wrapped his arms around her waist, and lifted her a few inches to meet his mouth.

“I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he said as he finished kissing her.

“I needed it too.”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “Not the best couple days. I’m glad I get to decompress with you. Two months ago I’d go home and chop wood or blow out a wall for my cabin expansion. I like this much better.”

“But you haven’t gotten anything done on the cabin in weeks.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the process I enjoy. Once I finish the expansion, I have other updates and renovations I want to do. It’s a hobby, not a goal. Something to occupy my brain and downtime. What do I smell?” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“Barbecued shrimp for tacos. Mango salsa. Limes. Maybe some tequila.”

“You spoil me.”

“Don’t get used to it. I’ve made it clear that cooking isn’t my strong point. That’s my mother’s department. And she mentioned yesterday that she wants to invite your father to town for the barbecue and Founder’s Day celebration.” Zane stilled in her arms. “I know he lives hours away, but it’s just for the weekend, and he can stay in one of the guest rooms in her house. It’ll be no trouble at all.” Her words trailed off as she watched the emotions shutter closed in Zane’s eyes. She pulled back for a better look at him. “What is it?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

A muscle at the side of his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth before speaking. “He won’t come.”

“How do you know unless you ask?”

“Trust me.”

“Did you two have a fight? Are you not speaking? I was under the impression you got along well with your father.”

“No fights. We’re fine. That’s just not how we operate.”

Operate?
“This is your father. You two only have each other, right? Your mom has been gone for over a decade.”

“That’s right.” His eyes were still carefully blank.

“Do you not want me to meet him?” Stevie asked slowly. “Is it too soon?”

Zane unwrapped his arms from her waist and took her hands in his. “It’s not that. We’re not like your family. You guys do everything together. Dad and I just do our own things.”

She frowned. “When did you last see him?”

“Ahhh . . . I think it was Christmas three years ago.”

“Three years? Are you kidding me? Even when I lived in LA I always came home for Christmas. When’s the last time you called him?”

Zane looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure. I think before we met.”

Stevie narrowed her brows at him. “That’s horrible. What’s wrong between you two?”

“Nothing! I’m telling you. That’s just how we are. We don’t interact much.”

“I want you to call him and invite him. Maybe he’s waiting to hear from you.”

Zane looked away. “The phone works both ways.”

She realized she’d touched a sore spot and softened her tone, feeling a bit guilty about her barrage of questions. “Just because this is how it’s always been between you two doesn’t mean you have to always walk the same road. If you want a closer relationship with your father, you need to make some steps and keep at them. You said he was older, right?”