Chapter Eight
Trixie pulled her Cherokee into the Get-n-Go lot and drove around to the right side of the building. She parked on a weedy patch of dirt beneath an old white oak and climbed from her vehicle. A moldy wooden picnic table sat in the shade of the tree and she assumed it was mostly used, if ever, by store employees on cigarette breaks. A plastic coffee canister half-filled with sand seemed to confirm her theory, though it currently held no visible butts that she could see. She cast a worried look up at the sky. Only a few hours before, she’d been hoping for rain. Now, it was one of the last things she needed. Careful what you wish for, she thought ruefully. A bad storm could completely ruin the crime scene. Rushing things was never a good idea, but in this case, time was not necessarily on her side.
Two elderly men sat on a bench just outside the Get-n-Go’s glass front doors, their attention firmly on the activity across the Route 6 highway. They eyed her curiously as she crossed the sunbaked lot and she could only be thankful that Randy’s Self Storage was in such a relatively isolated area, keeping the gawkers, at least for now, to a minimum.
An ambulance was parked just outside an area surrounded by bright yellow tape. Trixie nodded to the EMTs who stood by waiting until they could claim the body, and then joined Officers Holt and Denton near one of the burned-out units. The smoky smell was still quite strong, an unpleasant odor that hung heavy in the hot afternoon. Trixie grimaced as she coughed. She knew, soon enough, the odd human capacity for unconsciously shutting down olfactory senses when in the continued presence of bad smells would kick in, but for now she could feel a headache forming as a direct result of the assault on her sinuses.
“Ma’am,” Holt said in greeting. “I’ve spoken to Harrisonville. The ME is on her way. Also, dispatch has called out for Bear and Sgt. Mangan.”
Trixie surveyed the surrounding area. “What have we got so far?” she asked as her gaze took in the blackened and destroyed units.
“We were searching the area,” Denton replied. “And I entered this side of the building-“
“You went inside?” Trixie cut in sharply, a severe frown crossing her features. “Captain Grieg’s report said none of the remaining structures are sound enough to be considered safe for entering, Stew. I’m sure I already made that clear.”
“I only went through the doorway,” he rushed to explain, his pale cheeks turning a light shade of red. “So I could photograph the damage. The back half of the building is actually still standing. Anyway, there was a mound of trash on top of some kind of blanket. I dragged it out of the way and that’s when I found him. It. Underneath the pile.”
“Show me.”
The body was just inside the west entrance of the storage unit. It was so badly burned not even gender was readily apparent. Careful not to actually touch anything, Trixie squatted down to study it. Up close she could detect the scent of charred and decaying flesh above the other noxious odors. She fought the urge to gag as she made a mental map in her mind of both the body’s position and the layout of the building. It was one long rectangular structure, with doors at either end. Along the single corridor, the individual rooms opened from each side, their burned, misshapen contents spilling out onto the cracked, scorched floor, lumps of unidentifiable objects surrounded by piles of ash.
After a long moment, Trixie stood again and turned back to the other officers. Holt and Denton regarded her silently and she knew they were waiting for her instructions. This then, she supposed, would be her real test as Acting Chief. In her three years on the force, she had only been involved in two murder cases, first as an assisting officer and then as lead detective. Homicides of any kind were rare in Sleepyside, the sensational Cold Lake killings notwithstanding, and if she hadn’t already been the subject of intense scrutiny before, now she would definitely be thrust into the spotlight.
Her first murder investigation had been an open-and-shut case. A twenty-two-year-old man had shot and killed a store clerk in the process of an armed robbery. Not only were there several witnesses who identified him as the shooter, security footage from a surveillance camera provided a clear image of him in the act of his crime. He’d pled guilty to the charges and was now serving a lengthy sentence. Her second case concerned a domestic disturbance that had escalated to a fight that was abruptly over when the wife rammed a kitchen knife through her husband’s throat. The horrific results, with blood spatter that extended from one end of the dining room to the other, was something Trixie knew she would never forget.
She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to gather her thoughts. “Until we have the official autopsy and conduct our investigation, we’re considering this a suspicious death,” she said. “This may be anything from first-degree murder to involuntary manslaughter. Of course, if it does prove to be manslaughter, I imagine the DA will bring up felony murder charges regardless, to coincide with the arson.”
“So you believe this guy did die because of the fire?” Holt asked.
“As opposed to… we’ve found some human remains someone’s been hiding in a storage unit for the last ten years or so?” Trixie shook her head. “Don’t rule out anything yet, but that scenario seems the least likely. Our victim was near the door, not in one of the individual storerooms. It would be rather strange for someone to drive here and dump the body in a hall where anyone could find it, unless that was done immediately prior to the fire and the arson was an attempt to cover up the murder. Now, that’s possible, of course, but considering there are much better places to get rid of a body, including the state park right across the road, I’d consider other alternatives first.”
“Such as?”
“The victim was murdered on the premises either directly before or during the commission of the arson. If it was before, again, it could be that the fire was a bungled attempt to destroy all the evidence, perhaps done in a panic by someone afraid he or she would get caught trying to move the body. If it was during, then we could have a case of thieves falling out with one another resulting in a murder or even accidental death, and the body was left behind as the killer or killers fled the scene. Another possibility is that the arson claimed the life of someone who was simply on the property to visit his or her personal unit and he or she got caught in the fire. Or maybe we have a homeless transient who was squatting here. Then again, we may be looking at our arsonist. It’s not unheard of for a firebug to get himself caught in his own blaze.”
Denton rubbed his hand across his forehead, wiping away the sweat and leaving a streak of grime in its place. “That’s a lot of possibilities.”
“Give me half an hour to think and I’ll give you ten more,” Trixie told him. “And don’t forget that along with the question of who this is, why has no one reported a missing person for the last five days? Is our vic a local? A visitor from out-of-town? Out-of-state? Out-of-country? This is why you need to keep an open mind, Stew. Let the evidence lead you to your conclusion. Don’t go looking for only those things you think will fit your preconceived theory.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I – uh, I did think, because of the way he’s laying there with his hands balled up in fists like that, maybe he’d been trying to bust his way out? Maybe the door was jammed? Or maybe he’d been in a fight, trying to defend himself?”
Trixie looked back down at the body. “If he'd been trying to break down the door, that wouldn't explain how he then ended up buried beneath the debris so completely. It's the blanket that's got me the most curious. Make sure you bag it. The other things could have fallen on top of him either during the fire or in the confusion while the firefighters were trying to contain the blaze. But that blanket... I'm thinking either he was dead and his killer covered him up with it, or possibly he did it himself in a desperate attempt to save himself. Or herself.
"And what you're seeing, it’s called the ‘pugilistic attitude.' Yes, it does give the appearance of someone in a fighting position as the name implies. But it’s actually caused by muscle contractions that happen due to extreme heat. You see it a lot in victims this badly burned. It doesn’t necessarily mean he or she was burned alive, though. It can happen even after death as long as rigor hasn’t set in. It does seem to indicate that we can rule out the theory that the fire uncovered remains that had been stored here for any length of time, though.”
“Guess you learned all that in one of your college courses?” Holt muttered, his eyes on the road as Bear’s Toyota Tundra approached and pulled into the Get-n-Go lot.
Trixie shot him a quick glance. This had been an issue before, a long simmering undercurrent of resentment in the department. As the only officer on the force with a criminal justice degree, she’d jumped the ranks, making detective before several others with considerably more time on the job. Just as with her current position, not everyone had been thrilled with her promotion. “No,” she said blandly. “I just watch too much CSI.”
Holt’s gaze snapped over to her and she could see the uncertainty in his expression. He couldn’t decide whether or not she was serious.
“Pugilistic what again?” Denton asked, and Trixie suspected he was trying to deflect the conversation away to safer grounds.
“Pugilistic attitude. Toss it out there when Dr. D arrives. She’ll be impressed. She taught my course on crime scene biology.”
Denton’s brows rose in surprise. “You took a college course with our ME?”
“Yep. A couple of them, actually. She teaches several at Harrison State.”
“I didn’t even know there was such a thing as crime scene biology,” he said thoughtfully.
“It covers things like genetic fingerprinting, collecting DNA, anatomy, and identifying remains. Fun stuff.” Trixie turned to watch as Bear trotted toward them. She waited until he was in hearing distance before speaking again. “Detective, you’re now officially in charge. I want an initial report this evening before you quit for the night. And when Dan gets here, send him to find Randy. We’re going to need an updated consent-to-search form. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt to go ahead and also apply for a court-ordered search warrant this time, just in case any of the renters decide to kick up a fuss.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She glanced down at her watch and huffed out a breath. “Gentlemen, I’ll be leaving you now. I’ve got to speak with a few people, the sooner, the better. I’ll have to loop the mayor and council in on our new situation, but I’d like to keep this as quiet as possible for now. And let’s try to keep the press off our backs at least for a day or two.”
Bear nodded, scowling. “Well, if nothing else, you have an even stronger argument when you go to the council to get approval for hiring a new officer now.”
“Oh, I’ve already told them I’m hiring someone on,” Trixie said darkly. “I didn’t give them a chance to say ‘no.’ I went through some previous applications, put out a few calls, and scheduled interviews for this Thursday. I’m not going to put our town at risk by having too few officers out on regular patrol, but neither will I put my officers at risk by forcing them to work too many hours. Exhaustion leads to poor judgment, and in our line of work, poor judgment can get you seriously injured or even killed. That’s not gonna happen on my watch, even if I am only in this role temporarily.”
As Trixie walked briskly away, her mind turning to the series of telephone calls she would need to make, she was completely unaware of the growing respect on the faces of the three men watching her leave. She paused to thank the EMTs for their patience before returning to her parked Jeep. Now that she was away from the scene, she could smell the smoke scent that clung to her clothes and skin. And no doubt her hair as well. She immediately decided she would go home and clean up before taking on any other tasks.
She was driving down 3rd Street when she suddenly remembered her promise to Di. She pulled into her driveway and cut her engine, then reached for her cell phone. Her call went to Di’s voicemail. She waited for the beep before speaking. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry, but something work-related came up and I don’t think I’m going to have time to get your key made today. I’m gonna be home for at least an hour or two making some phone calls. If you want to drop by and pick up my key and get a copy made yourself, just let me know.”
She frowned to herself as she disconnected the call. Really, she ought to have two or three copies made. At some point a few years before, she’d managed to misplace her original key and had been using the spare ever since. She hadn’t ever bothered to have another one made, and she realized it was only pure luck that she’d never been locked out of her own home.
She stripped down to her underwear while standing in her utility room, and dumped her clothes straight into the washing machine. A few minutes later she was under a hot stream of water in her shower, scrubbing her hair with a vengeance. She’d pay for it when she went to brush the tangles out, but she was determined to remove as much of the unpleasant odor as she could. There was nothing she could do to wipe away the image of the grossly burned body that seemed determined to hold its place at the center of her thoughts, but at least she didn’t have to allow the smell to add to the nightmarish turn her day had taken.
She’d just finished dressing in jeans and a pale peach knit top when her doorbell rang. A glance out the window revealed Di waiting on the porch.
“Hey,” she said as she swung the door open wide. “Come on in.”
“No, thanks. I’m in a bit of a rush,” Di told her. “I have an appointment in about forty minutes with a contractor who’s going to give me an estimate on some work for my shop. If you want to let me borrow your key, though, I’m pretty sure I can get the copy made and get back here in enough time to drop yours off.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. And uh, can you do me a favor and have a second one made? I think it wouldn’t hurt to have a spare.”
“No problem.”
Trixie fetched her keychain from where she’d left it on the kitchen counter. “I’ll probably be on the phone when you get back,” she said as she walked back into the foyer area. “Just let yourself in and you can leave the keys on the hall table.”
“Something big come up?”
Trixie blew out a breath. “Yeah.”
She offered no more information and Di recognized this meant her friend didn’t feel she could discuss anything, at least for the moment. She studied Trixie with narrowed eyes, taking in her drawn, tired appearance. “Have you even had lunch yet today?” she asked, exasperation creeping into her tone. “You haven’t, have you. You just blew off another meal because something else was ‘too important’ and you couldn’t even stop long enough to have a sandwich or something.”
“It was important,” Trixie mumbled defensively. “And I’ll find something to eat in a bit.”
“Hmm. Don’t think you’re going to pull one over on me. I roomed with you all through college, remember? While every other girl stressed out over the ‘freshman fifteen,’ you lost weight.”
“Di. Seriously. I promise I’ll eat as soon as I can. Okay, Mom?”
Di frowned at her a moment longer, but then nodded. “I’ll be back in a bit with the keys.”
Twenty minutes later, as Trixie was ending a tense call with Mayor Miller, she heard her front door open. She wandered out of the sunroom and stumbled to a halt. “Oh! I was expecting Di.”
“I bumped into her at the hardware store,” Regan said in explanation as he closed the door behind him. He dropped her keychain and the small tan envelope holding her new spare key down on the antique table near the entryway to the parlor and wordlessly walked past her to the kitchen.
Puzzled, Trixie followed. “Can I get you something?” she asked.
Regan opened her refrigerator and looked inside before swinging it shut again with more force than was strictly necessary. He checked several cabinets, then the small pantry. “Dammit, Miss Fidget,” he swore softly with a small sigh as he took in the mostly bare shelves. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving? Regan, I have work-“
He turned in her direction. “No excuses. We’re going to lunch. And then we’re going to Wyman’s to get you some groceries. Grab your purse or handbag or whatever it is you need and let’s go.”
“I have work,” she said again, recognizing that she was digging in her heels like a stubborn child. It was true that she needed to do some shopping, but that would have to wait. She still had several more people to contact about the grisly discovery at Randy’s Self Storage, and she wanted to get in to the station to speak with the other officers. Things had been hectic before. Now they were going to go into overdrive.
“Don’t think I won’t pick you up and carry you out of this house if I have to,” Regan warned.
“Excuse me? You know, Dan made some not-so-veiled threat about tossing me in his trunk the other night to make me go home. How’d I miss all these years that Neanderthalism seems to run in your family?”
“You’re not taking care of yourself, Trixie. By the state of this kitchen, I’d say not by a long shot. If making you eat a meal and buy some groceries means I’m a Neanderthal, so be it. Now, let’s go.”
A loud boom of thunder interrupted Trixie’s reply. “Oh, crap,” she muttered, slipping past him so she could peer out the window. “Crap. Crap. Crap.” She hurried back to the sunroom and scooped her phone up off the wicker table.
Dan answered on the second ring.
“Cowboy? Where are you?” she asked. “On the scene?”
“Yeah. I’m here now.”
“Did you get the warrant?”
“I sent Garza for it. It sounded like it was going to take some time to get before the judge, so I figured I’d better stay here.”
“Is it raining there yet?”
“Not yet, but it will be soon.”
“Perfect. Please tell me Elijah or Stewart already finished photographing the area and you’ve collected as much evidence as possible.”
“We’re still working on it as fast as we can. And don't forget, the scene was already just about destroyed by the fire and the fire hoses anyway. Dr. Watkins has finished her preliminary examination of the body and the EMTs are loading it up now. I’ve got Lindner setting up tarps to protect the integrity of the evidence as much as possible.”
“All right. Keep me posted. And tell Bear I want to know ASAP what Dr. D’s initial findings are. Anything at all she can tell us about the body, to give us somewhere to start.”
“Will do, Chief.”
She exhaled heavily as she disconnected the call.
“There’s a body.”
Trixie started and turned. She hadn’t realized Regan had followed her from the kitchen. “Yes. There’s a body,” she said flatly. “In the wreckage from the self-storage fire. That’s not public knowledge yet.”
“Murder?”
“Possibly. Probably. Regan, you know how this works. I can’t talk to you about an official investigation.”
Another crash of thunder rolled across the sky. A few seconds later, rain lashed against the wide windows that ran the entire length of the enclosed porch. Trixie bit down on her bottom lip, chewing on it anxiously as she watched the rivulets of water running down the glass panes.
“I know you don’t want to go out in this weather, Trix,” Regan said quietly, cutting into her thoughts. “But there’s not even enough food here for me to scrounge you up a decent snack. Let’s go over to Wimpy’s, and maybe by the time you’ve had lunch, the storm will have blown through and we can still do some grocery shopping.”
Trixie considered his words for a long moment before dropping her shoulders and closing her eyes. “Fine,” she finally agreed. “But if you get soaked, it’s all your own fault.”
“I know.”
“If I get soaked, it’s your fault.”
He smiled faintly at that. “I know. I’ll claim full responsibility. Like a good Neanderthal would. Besides, did you shower recently? Your hair's still wet anyway.”
“Uh, huh.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Captain Grumpy Pants. You’ve won this round. Wimpy’s it is.”
Trixie pulled her Cherokee into the Get-n-Go lot and drove around to the right side of the building. She parked on a weedy patch of dirt beneath an old white oak and climbed from her vehicle. A moldy wooden picnic table sat in the shade of the tree and she assumed it was mostly used, if ever, by store employees on cigarette breaks. A plastic coffee canister half-filled with sand seemed to confirm her theory, though it currently held no visible butts that she could see. She cast a worried look up at the sky. Only a few hours before, she’d been hoping for rain. Now, it was one of the last things she needed. Careful what you wish for, she thought ruefully. A bad storm could completely ruin the crime scene. Rushing things was never a good idea, but in this case, time was not necessarily on her side.
Two elderly men sat on a bench just outside the Get-n-Go’s glass front doors, their attention firmly on the activity across the Route 6 highway. They eyed her curiously as she crossed the sunbaked lot and she could only be thankful that Randy’s Self Storage was in such a relatively isolated area, keeping the gawkers, at least for now, to a minimum.
An ambulance was parked just outside an area surrounded by bright yellow tape. Trixie nodded to the EMTs who stood by waiting until they could claim the body, and then joined Officers Holt and Denton near one of the burned-out units. The smoky smell was still quite strong, an unpleasant odor that hung heavy in the hot afternoon. Trixie grimaced as she coughed. She knew, soon enough, the odd human capacity for unconsciously shutting down olfactory senses when in the continued presence of bad smells would kick in, but for now she could feel a headache forming as a direct result of the assault on her sinuses.
“Ma’am,” Holt said in greeting. “I’ve spoken to Harrisonville. The ME is on her way. Also, dispatch has called out for Bear and Sgt. Mangan.”
Trixie surveyed the surrounding area. “What have we got so far?” she asked as her gaze took in the blackened and destroyed units.
“We were searching the area,” Denton replied. “And I entered this side of the building-“
“You went inside?” Trixie cut in sharply, a severe frown crossing her features. “Captain Grieg’s report said none of the remaining structures are sound enough to be considered safe for entering, Stew. I’m sure I already made that clear.”
“I only went through the doorway,” he rushed to explain, his pale cheeks turning a light shade of red. “So I could photograph the damage. The back half of the building is actually still standing. Anyway, there was a mound of trash on top of some kind of blanket. I dragged it out of the way and that’s when I found him. It. Underneath the pile.”
“Show me.”
The body was just inside the west entrance of the storage unit. It was so badly burned not even gender was readily apparent. Careful not to actually touch anything, Trixie squatted down to study it. Up close she could detect the scent of charred and decaying flesh above the other noxious odors. She fought the urge to gag as she made a mental map in her mind of both the body’s position and the layout of the building. It was one long rectangular structure, with doors at either end. Along the single corridor, the individual rooms opened from each side, their burned, misshapen contents spilling out onto the cracked, scorched floor, lumps of unidentifiable objects surrounded by piles of ash.
After a long moment, Trixie stood again and turned back to the other officers. Holt and Denton regarded her silently and she knew they were waiting for her instructions. This then, she supposed, would be her real test as Acting Chief. In her three years on the force, she had only been involved in two murder cases, first as an assisting officer and then as lead detective. Homicides of any kind were rare in Sleepyside, the sensational Cold Lake killings notwithstanding, and if she hadn’t already been the subject of intense scrutiny before, now she would definitely be thrust into the spotlight.
Her first murder investigation had been an open-and-shut case. A twenty-two-year-old man had shot and killed a store clerk in the process of an armed robbery. Not only were there several witnesses who identified him as the shooter, security footage from a surveillance camera provided a clear image of him in the act of his crime. He’d pled guilty to the charges and was now serving a lengthy sentence. Her second case concerned a domestic disturbance that had escalated to a fight that was abruptly over when the wife rammed a kitchen knife through her husband’s throat. The horrific results, with blood spatter that extended from one end of the dining room to the other, was something Trixie knew she would never forget.
She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to gather her thoughts. “Until we have the official autopsy and conduct our investigation, we’re considering this a suspicious death,” she said. “This may be anything from first-degree murder to involuntary manslaughter. Of course, if it does prove to be manslaughter, I imagine the DA will bring up felony murder charges regardless, to coincide with the arson.”
“So you believe this guy did die because of the fire?” Holt asked.
“As opposed to… we’ve found some human remains someone’s been hiding in a storage unit for the last ten years or so?” Trixie shook her head. “Don’t rule out anything yet, but that scenario seems the least likely. Our victim was near the door, not in one of the individual storerooms. It would be rather strange for someone to drive here and dump the body in a hall where anyone could find it, unless that was done immediately prior to the fire and the arson was an attempt to cover up the murder. Now, that’s possible, of course, but considering there are much better places to get rid of a body, including the state park right across the road, I’d consider other alternatives first.”
“Such as?”
“The victim was murdered on the premises either directly before or during the commission of the arson. If it was before, again, it could be that the fire was a bungled attempt to destroy all the evidence, perhaps done in a panic by someone afraid he or she would get caught trying to move the body. If it was during, then we could have a case of thieves falling out with one another resulting in a murder or even accidental death, and the body was left behind as the killer or killers fled the scene. Another possibility is that the arson claimed the life of someone who was simply on the property to visit his or her personal unit and he or she got caught in the fire. Or maybe we have a homeless transient who was squatting here. Then again, we may be looking at our arsonist. It’s not unheard of for a firebug to get himself caught in his own blaze.”
Denton rubbed his hand across his forehead, wiping away the sweat and leaving a streak of grime in its place. “That’s a lot of possibilities.”
“Give me half an hour to think and I’ll give you ten more,” Trixie told him. “And don’t forget that along with the question of who this is, why has no one reported a missing person for the last five days? Is our vic a local? A visitor from out-of-town? Out-of-state? Out-of-country? This is why you need to keep an open mind, Stew. Let the evidence lead you to your conclusion. Don’t go looking for only those things you think will fit your preconceived theory.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I – uh, I did think, because of the way he’s laying there with his hands balled up in fists like that, maybe he’d been trying to bust his way out? Maybe the door was jammed? Or maybe he’d been in a fight, trying to defend himself?”
Trixie looked back down at the body. “If he'd been trying to break down the door, that wouldn't explain how he then ended up buried beneath the debris so completely. It's the blanket that's got me the most curious. Make sure you bag it. The other things could have fallen on top of him either during the fire or in the confusion while the firefighters were trying to contain the blaze. But that blanket... I'm thinking either he was dead and his killer covered him up with it, or possibly he did it himself in a desperate attempt to save himself. Or herself.
"And what you're seeing, it’s called the ‘pugilistic attitude.' Yes, it does give the appearance of someone in a fighting position as the name implies. But it’s actually caused by muscle contractions that happen due to extreme heat. You see it a lot in victims this badly burned. It doesn’t necessarily mean he or she was burned alive, though. It can happen even after death as long as rigor hasn’t set in. It does seem to indicate that we can rule out the theory that the fire uncovered remains that had been stored here for any length of time, though.”
“Guess you learned all that in one of your college courses?” Holt muttered, his eyes on the road as Bear’s Toyota Tundra approached and pulled into the Get-n-Go lot.
Trixie shot him a quick glance. This had been an issue before, a long simmering undercurrent of resentment in the department. As the only officer on the force with a criminal justice degree, she’d jumped the ranks, making detective before several others with considerably more time on the job. Just as with her current position, not everyone had been thrilled with her promotion. “No,” she said blandly. “I just watch too much CSI.”
Holt’s gaze snapped over to her and she could see the uncertainty in his expression. He couldn’t decide whether or not she was serious.
“Pugilistic what again?” Denton asked, and Trixie suspected he was trying to deflect the conversation away to safer grounds.
“Pugilistic attitude. Toss it out there when Dr. D arrives. She’ll be impressed. She taught my course on crime scene biology.”
Denton’s brows rose in surprise. “You took a college course with our ME?”
“Yep. A couple of them, actually. She teaches several at Harrison State.”
“I didn’t even know there was such a thing as crime scene biology,” he said thoughtfully.
“It covers things like genetic fingerprinting, collecting DNA, anatomy, and identifying remains. Fun stuff.” Trixie turned to watch as Bear trotted toward them. She waited until he was in hearing distance before speaking again. “Detective, you’re now officially in charge. I want an initial report this evening before you quit for the night. And when Dan gets here, send him to find Randy. We’re going to need an updated consent-to-search form. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt to go ahead and also apply for a court-ordered search warrant this time, just in case any of the renters decide to kick up a fuss.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She glanced down at her watch and huffed out a breath. “Gentlemen, I’ll be leaving you now. I’ve got to speak with a few people, the sooner, the better. I’ll have to loop the mayor and council in on our new situation, but I’d like to keep this as quiet as possible for now. And let’s try to keep the press off our backs at least for a day or two.”
Bear nodded, scowling. “Well, if nothing else, you have an even stronger argument when you go to the council to get approval for hiring a new officer now.”
“Oh, I’ve already told them I’m hiring someone on,” Trixie said darkly. “I didn’t give them a chance to say ‘no.’ I went through some previous applications, put out a few calls, and scheduled interviews for this Thursday. I’m not going to put our town at risk by having too few officers out on regular patrol, but neither will I put my officers at risk by forcing them to work too many hours. Exhaustion leads to poor judgment, and in our line of work, poor judgment can get you seriously injured or even killed. That’s not gonna happen on my watch, even if I am only in this role temporarily.”
As Trixie walked briskly away, her mind turning to the series of telephone calls she would need to make, she was completely unaware of the growing respect on the faces of the three men watching her leave. She paused to thank the EMTs for their patience before returning to her parked Jeep. Now that she was away from the scene, she could smell the smoke scent that clung to her clothes and skin. And no doubt her hair as well. She immediately decided she would go home and clean up before taking on any other tasks.
She was driving down 3rd Street when she suddenly remembered her promise to Di. She pulled into her driveway and cut her engine, then reached for her cell phone. Her call went to Di’s voicemail. She waited for the beep before speaking. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry, but something work-related came up and I don’t think I’m going to have time to get your key made today. I’m gonna be home for at least an hour or two making some phone calls. If you want to drop by and pick up my key and get a copy made yourself, just let me know.”
She frowned to herself as she disconnected the call. Really, she ought to have two or three copies made. At some point a few years before, she’d managed to misplace her original key and had been using the spare ever since. She hadn’t ever bothered to have another one made, and she realized it was only pure luck that she’d never been locked out of her own home.
She stripped down to her underwear while standing in her utility room, and dumped her clothes straight into the washing machine. A few minutes later she was under a hot stream of water in her shower, scrubbing her hair with a vengeance. She’d pay for it when she went to brush the tangles out, but she was determined to remove as much of the unpleasant odor as she could. There was nothing she could do to wipe away the image of the grossly burned body that seemed determined to hold its place at the center of her thoughts, but at least she didn’t have to allow the smell to add to the nightmarish turn her day had taken.
She’d just finished dressing in jeans and a pale peach knit top when her doorbell rang. A glance out the window revealed Di waiting on the porch.
“Hey,” she said as she swung the door open wide. “Come on in.”
“No, thanks. I’m in a bit of a rush,” Di told her. “I have an appointment in about forty minutes with a contractor who’s going to give me an estimate on some work for my shop. If you want to let me borrow your key, though, I’m pretty sure I can get the copy made and get back here in enough time to drop yours off.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. And uh, can you do me a favor and have a second one made? I think it wouldn’t hurt to have a spare.”
“No problem.”
Trixie fetched her keychain from where she’d left it on the kitchen counter. “I’ll probably be on the phone when you get back,” she said as she walked back into the foyer area. “Just let yourself in and you can leave the keys on the hall table.”
“Something big come up?”
Trixie blew out a breath. “Yeah.”
She offered no more information and Di recognized this meant her friend didn’t feel she could discuss anything, at least for the moment. She studied Trixie with narrowed eyes, taking in her drawn, tired appearance. “Have you even had lunch yet today?” she asked, exasperation creeping into her tone. “You haven’t, have you. You just blew off another meal because something else was ‘too important’ and you couldn’t even stop long enough to have a sandwich or something.”
“It was important,” Trixie mumbled defensively. “And I’ll find something to eat in a bit.”
“Hmm. Don’t think you’re going to pull one over on me. I roomed with you all through college, remember? While every other girl stressed out over the ‘freshman fifteen,’ you lost weight.”
“Di. Seriously. I promise I’ll eat as soon as I can. Okay, Mom?”
Di frowned at her a moment longer, but then nodded. “I’ll be back in a bit with the keys.”
Twenty minutes later, as Trixie was ending a tense call with Mayor Miller, she heard her front door open. She wandered out of the sunroom and stumbled to a halt. “Oh! I was expecting Di.”
“I bumped into her at the hardware store,” Regan said in explanation as he closed the door behind him. He dropped her keychain and the small tan envelope holding her new spare key down on the antique table near the entryway to the parlor and wordlessly walked past her to the kitchen.
Puzzled, Trixie followed. “Can I get you something?” she asked.
Regan opened her refrigerator and looked inside before swinging it shut again with more force than was strictly necessary. He checked several cabinets, then the small pantry. “Dammit, Miss Fidget,” he swore softly with a small sigh as he took in the mostly bare shelves. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving? Regan, I have work-“
He turned in her direction. “No excuses. We’re going to lunch. And then we’re going to Wyman’s to get you some groceries. Grab your purse or handbag or whatever it is you need and let’s go.”
“I have work,” she said again, recognizing that she was digging in her heels like a stubborn child. It was true that she needed to do some shopping, but that would have to wait. She still had several more people to contact about the grisly discovery at Randy’s Self Storage, and she wanted to get in to the station to speak with the other officers. Things had been hectic before. Now they were going to go into overdrive.
“Don’t think I won’t pick you up and carry you out of this house if I have to,” Regan warned.
“Excuse me? You know, Dan made some not-so-veiled threat about tossing me in his trunk the other night to make me go home. How’d I miss all these years that Neanderthalism seems to run in your family?”
“You’re not taking care of yourself, Trixie. By the state of this kitchen, I’d say not by a long shot. If making you eat a meal and buy some groceries means I’m a Neanderthal, so be it. Now, let’s go.”
A loud boom of thunder interrupted Trixie’s reply. “Oh, crap,” she muttered, slipping past him so she could peer out the window. “Crap. Crap. Crap.” She hurried back to the sunroom and scooped her phone up off the wicker table.
Dan answered on the second ring.
“Cowboy? Where are you?” she asked. “On the scene?”
“Yeah. I’m here now.”
“Did you get the warrant?”
“I sent Garza for it. It sounded like it was going to take some time to get before the judge, so I figured I’d better stay here.”
“Is it raining there yet?”
“Not yet, but it will be soon.”
“Perfect. Please tell me Elijah or Stewart already finished photographing the area and you’ve collected as much evidence as possible.”
“We’re still working on it as fast as we can. And don't forget, the scene was already just about destroyed by the fire and the fire hoses anyway. Dr. Watkins has finished her preliminary examination of the body and the EMTs are loading it up now. I’ve got Lindner setting up tarps to protect the integrity of the evidence as much as possible.”
“All right. Keep me posted. And tell Bear I want to know ASAP what Dr. D’s initial findings are. Anything at all she can tell us about the body, to give us somewhere to start.”
“Will do, Chief.”
She exhaled heavily as she disconnected the call.
“There’s a body.”
Trixie started and turned. She hadn’t realized Regan had followed her from the kitchen. “Yes. There’s a body,” she said flatly. “In the wreckage from the self-storage fire. That’s not public knowledge yet.”
“Murder?”
“Possibly. Probably. Regan, you know how this works. I can’t talk to you about an official investigation.”
Another crash of thunder rolled across the sky. A few seconds later, rain lashed against the wide windows that ran the entire length of the enclosed porch. Trixie bit down on her bottom lip, chewing on it anxiously as she watched the rivulets of water running down the glass panes.
“I know you don’t want to go out in this weather, Trix,” Regan said quietly, cutting into her thoughts. “But there’s not even enough food here for me to scrounge you up a decent snack. Let’s go over to Wimpy’s, and maybe by the time you’ve had lunch, the storm will have blown through and we can still do some grocery shopping.”
Trixie considered his words for a long moment before dropping her shoulders and closing her eyes. “Fine,” she finally agreed. “But if you get soaked, it’s all your own fault.”
“I know.”
“If I get soaked, it’s your fault.”
He smiled faintly at that. “I know. I’ll claim full responsibility. Like a good Neanderthal would. Besides, did you shower recently? Your hair's still wet anyway.”
“Uh, huh.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Captain Grumpy Pants. You’ve won this round. Wimpy’s it is.”
~~~~~~~~~~
It was after 8:30 by the time Bear stepped into Trixie’s office with his report. His expression was grim as he sat down across from her and placed a file folder on her desk.
“We’ve got our work cut out for us,” he said wearily. “Right now what we know is the victim was male and most likely died from smoke inhalation, not the fire itself. Dr. Watkins also believes he was probably young, under thirty, but she said she’ll know more after the autopsy.”
“When’s that scheduled?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ll be in attendance.”
Trixie nodded. “Good. Go home. I’ll look over your report and if I have any questions, hopefully they can wait until after the autopsy and I won’t need to disturb you for what’s left of today.”
“You’ve talked to the council?” Bear asked as he slowly stood.
“The mayor. Councilman Morgan. Captain Grieg. Judge Reyes. Four or five other people who are on the need-to-know list.” Trixie’s lips turned up in a small, wry smile. “The call with the mayor was particularly fun. Good times. Let’s just say he was not pleased with me today.”
Bear’s expression registered his disbelief. “He can’t blame you for the body?”
“He’s pissed that we didn’t find it for several days,” she explained. “I did tell him how carefully we’ve had to work, but, well, to be wholly honest, he does have a point. We missed a body, Bear.”
Bear sank back down onto his chair, shaking his head. “Chief, c’mon. First of all, it was covered. Buried, really. Stew only found it because he tried to move some of the bigger pieces of trash out of the way by pulling on the blanket. Second, like you say, we’ve had to be very careful out there. What’s left of those buildings? Not safe. And we’re looking for evidence, which means going slowly, and the body was in the last building on the property, so we only just now got to it. Third? If he’s gonna get on anyone’s case about it, how about the fire department? How come they didn’t find the guy?”
“It was the volunteers,” Trixie told him, sighing.
“Huh?”
“The worst of the blaze was up front, so Grieg let the Berre volunteer department handle the back buildings.”
“Ah, hell. You tell the mayor that?”
“No.”
“It’ll probably come out at some point anyway.”
“Probably. I’ll deal with that when the time comes. For now, let’s just focus on who our victim is and what happened to him.”
“Yeah.” Bear rose again, not bothering to cover a wide yawn as he stretched his arms over his head. “See ya tomorrow, Chief.”
Trixie spent a few minutes looking over Bear’s initial report. It mostly covered the information he’d already shared with her, along with some extra details and a list of items from around the body that had been removed and bagged as evidence, including the blanket. Bear noted that it was impossible to determine the original color or pattern, but a small bit of stuffing indicated to him that it was possibly a bedspread or comforter of some kind.
She turned her attention to a small note Bear had added to the file. Deidre Watkins bucked the stereotype of doctors with atrocious handwriting. Her cursive was small and neat and easy to read, letting Trixie know that she’d officially approved the removal of the body and would be conducting an autopsy at ten the following morning.
“Why am I not at all shocked to find you here this late?”
Trixie glanced up. “I could say the same about you,” she pointed out as Dan ambled into her office and dropped down into the same chair recently vacated by Bear.
“I talked to Uncle Liam a little while ago. Or I should say, he talked to me. What the hell, Freckles? He said you had no food in your house.”
“Not no food,” she mumbled, shrugging. “Just not a lot. Been a bit busy lately.”
“Yeah? And? What was your plan, exactly? To keep bumming meals from family and friends any time you got so hungry you might’ve actually passed out because you couldn’t find twenty minutes in your day to run through the grocery store?”
“It’s not like that!” Trixie exclaimed, stung by his words. “The chief died and all of a sudden I’m in charge and we’ve got arson, and a home invasion and robbery, and this whole Cold Lake killings mess, and an old suicide that was maybe actually murder, and now this new body, and I am so out of my depth here I am barely hanging on! I got another crank call this evening. I didn’t even bother filling out a report. I told the guy in no uncertain and extremely impolite terms what he could do with himself and hung up and…”
She broke off mid-sentence, appalled to realize she was on the verge of tears.
Dan had risen from his seat and come around her desk. He pulled her up into a tight hug. “Trixie Belden, what are we going to do with you? You’re my best friend and I love you dearly, but half the time I don’t know whether to smack you upside the head to knock some sense into you or run away with you to some tropical island where you have nothing more to worry about than whether you want a mojito or a margarita while you lie around on a sandy beach soaking up the sun.”
“Except we’ve already established I can’t hold my liquor,” she said with a watery chuckle. “And we’d have to get Di to come along, for your sake.”
“True. But that works for me, Freckles. I can think of way worse things than spending my days with two sexy women in bikinis at my side. And I’ll make sure if you have too much to drink, you don’t make too much of a fool out of yourself.”
Trixie pulled away from him, shaking her head. “I’ll just bet, Cowboy.” She drew in a deep breath and offered him an apologetic smile. “I swear. I always have my worst girl moments around you.”
He flashed her a quick grin at that, but then his expression sobered. "Joking aside, Trix, you aren’t in this alone. Yeah, I doubt the SHPD has ever had this many major cases to handle simultaneously, but no one is expecting you to solve everything single-handedly. Give yourself a break, already!”
“I know. But…” She trailed off with a helpless shrug.
“But you can’t help yourself. I know. I’m really glad Di’s moving in with you. She can be our spy on the inside to let us know when you’re forgetting or skipping the important stuff. Like eating and sleeping.”
“Us? I don’t think anyone else on the force-“
“Cares?” Dan cut in, one brow raised. “Actually, they do more than you think. I know your promotion didn’t sit well with some of ‘em, but c’mon, Freckles. You have to know everyone here cares about you as a person and fellow officer. Give them some credit. And besides, by ‘us’ I was talking about me and Uncle Liam. He was pretty upset with you today, you know. Don’t be surprised if he starts making weekly visits to check the contents of your fridge.”
“He actually said something to that effect this afternoon. You know he even went so far as to threaten to rat me out to my parents? Like I’m still the thirteen-year-old kid he first met?”
“Can you blame him? Not eating right isn’t exactly a mature thing to do.” He nodded toward the open office door. “Let’s get outta here, huh? It’s not like all this won’t be waiting for us in the morning and we’ve both definitely put in more than enough hours today.”
“Yeah. I am tired,” Trixie conceded. “And on top of everything else, I’ve got that stupid Chamber of Commerce thing the mayor wants me to attend tomorrow night. Because I have all this free time on my hands and what better way to spend it than that?”
Dan slung an arm around her shoulders. “Piece of advice? If they’re serving booze, you should avoid it and stick to soda. Just sayin’.”
“I don’t think it’s that kind of event,” she said with a small laugh, “but I’ll keep that in mind. Can you meet me here tomorrow afternoon? One o’clock? We really do have an awful lot we need to coordinate.”
“Haven't we had this discussion? You're the one in charge now. You get to tell me what to do, and it's my job to say, 'Yes, ma'am.' So, yes, I'll be here at one. Do you need me to bring lunch?”
“Oh, ha, ha, Cowboy.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” he said, dodging out of the way as she took a light swing at his arm. “See you tomorrow, Freckles.”
“Yeah. And Dan?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
He smiled softly at her. “Any time, Trix. You ever need me, for any reason whatsoever, you know I’ll be there. I promised you that ages ago and it’s never changed.”
She nodded in reply, suddenly feeling too choked up for words.
“We’ve got our work cut out for us,” he said wearily. “Right now what we know is the victim was male and most likely died from smoke inhalation, not the fire itself. Dr. Watkins also believes he was probably young, under thirty, but she said she’ll know more after the autopsy.”
“When’s that scheduled?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ll be in attendance.”
Trixie nodded. “Good. Go home. I’ll look over your report and if I have any questions, hopefully they can wait until after the autopsy and I won’t need to disturb you for what’s left of today.”
“You’ve talked to the council?” Bear asked as he slowly stood.
“The mayor. Councilman Morgan. Captain Grieg. Judge Reyes. Four or five other people who are on the need-to-know list.” Trixie’s lips turned up in a small, wry smile. “The call with the mayor was particularly fun. Good times. Let’s just say he was not pleased with me today.”
Bear’s expression registered his disbelief. “He can’t blame you for the body?”
“He’s pissed that we didn’t find it for several days,” she explained. “I did tell him how carefully we’ve had to work, but, well, to be wholly honest, he does have a point. We missed a body, Bear.”
Bear sank back down onto his chair, shaking his head. “Chief, c’mon. First of all, it was covered. Buried, really. Stew only found it because he tried to move some of the bigger pieces of trash out of the way by pulling on the blanket. Second, like you say, we’ve had to be very careful out there. What’s left of those buildings? Not safe. And we’re looking for evidence, which means going slowly, and the body was in the last building on the property, so we only just now got to it. Third? If he’s gonna get on anyone’s case about it, how about the fire department? How come they didn’t find the guy?”
“It was the volunteers,” Trixie told him, sighing.
“Huh?”
“The worst of the blaze was up front, so Grieg let the Berre volunteer department handle the back buildings.”
“Ah, hell. You tell the mayor that?”
“No.”
“It’ll probably come out at some point anyway.”
“Probably. I’ll deal with that when the time comes. For now, let’s just focus on who our victim is and what happened to him.”
“Yeah.” Bear rose again, not bothering to cover a wide yawn as he stretched his arms over his head. “See ya tomorrow, Chief.”
Trixie spent a few minutes looking over Bear’s initial report. It mostly covered the information he’d already shared with her, along with some extra details and a list of items from around the body that had been removed and bagged as evidence, including the blanket. Bear noted that it was impossible to determine the original color or pattern, but a small bit of stuffing indicated to him that it was possibly a bedspread or comforter of some kind.
She turned her attention to a small note Bear had added to the file. Deidre Watkins bucked the stereotype of doctors with atrocious handwriting. Her cursive was small and neat and easy to read, letting Trixie know that she’d officially approved the removal of the body and would be conducting an autopsy at ten the following morning.
“Why am I not at all shocked to find you here this late?”
Trixie glanced up. “I could say the same about you,” she pointed out as Dan ambled into her office and dropped down into the same chair recently vacated by Bear.
“I talked to Uncle Liam a little while ago. Or I should say, he talked to me. What the hell, Freckles? He said you had no food in your house.”
“Not no food,” she mumbled, shrugging. “Just not a lot. Been a bit busy lately.”
“Yeah? And? What was your plan, exactly? To keep bumming meals from family and friends any time you got so hungry you might’ve actually passed out because you couldn’t find twenty minutes in your day to run through the grocery store?”
“It’s not like that!” Trixie exclaimed, stung by his words. “The chief died and all of a sudden I’m in charge and we’ve got arson, and a home invasion and robbery, and this whole Cold Lake killings mess, and an old suicide that was maybe actually murder, and now this new body, and I am so out of my depth here I am barely hanging on! I got another crank call this evening. I didn’t even bother filling out a report. I told the guy in no uncertain and extremely impolite terms what he could do with himself and hung up and…”
She broke off mid-sentence, appalled to realize she was on the verge of tears.
Dan had risen from his seat and come around her desk. He pulled her up into a tight hug. “Trixie Belden, what are we going to do with you? You’re my best friend and I love you dearly, but half the time I don’t know whether to smack you upside the head to knock some sense into you or run away with you to some tropical island where you have nothing more to worry about than whether you want a mojito or a margarita while you lie around on a sandy beach soaking up the sun.”
“Except we’ve already established I can’t hold my liquor,” she said with a watery chuckle. “And we’d have to get Di to come along, for your sake.”
“True. But that works for me, Freckles. I can think of way worse things than spending my days with two sexy women in bikinis at my side. And I’ll make sure if you have too much to drink, you don’t make too much of a fool out of yourself.”
Trixie pulled away from him, shaking her head. “I’ll just bet, Cowboy.” She drew in a deep breath and offered him an apologetic smile. “I swear. I always have my worst girl moments around you.”
He flashed her a quick grin at that, but then his expression sobered. "Joking aside, Trix, you aren’t in this alone. Yeah, I doubt the SHPD has ever had this many major cases to handle simultaneously, but no one is expecting you to solve everything single-handedly. Give yourself a break, already!”
“I know. But…” She trailed off with a helpless shrug.
“But you can’t help yourself. I know. I’m really glad Di’s moving in with you. She can be our spy on the inside to let us know when you’re forgetting or skipping the important stuff. Like eating and sleeping.”
“Us? I don’t think anyone else on the force-“
“Cares?” Dan cut in, one brow raised. “Actually, they do more than you think. I know your promotion didn’t sit well with some of ‘em, but c’mon, Freckles. You have to know everyone here cares about you as a person and fellow officer. Give them some credit. And besides, by ‘us’ I was talking about me and Uncle Liam. He was pretty upset with you today, you know. Don’t be surprised if he starts making weekly visits to check the contents of your fridge.”
“He actually said something to that effect this afternoon. You know he even went so far as to threaten to rat me out to my parents? Like I’m still the thirteen-year-old kid he first met?”
“Can you blame him? Not eating right isn’t exactly a mature thing to do.” He nodded toward the open office door. “Let’s get outta here, huh? It’s not like all this won’t be waiting for us in the morning and we’ve both definitely put in more than enough hours today.”
“Yeah. I am tired,” Trixie conceded. “And on top of everything else, I’ve got that stupid Chamber of Commerce thing the mayor wants me to attend tomorrow night. Because I have all this free time on my hands and what better way to spend it than that?”
Dan slung an arm around her shoulders. “Piece of advice? If they’re serving booze, you should avoid it and stick to soda. Just sayin’.”
“I don’t think it’s that kind of event,” she said with a small laugh, “but I’ll keep that in mind. Can you meet me here tomorrow afternoon? One o’clock? We really do have an awful lot we need to coordinate.”
“Haven't we had this discussion? You're the one in charge now. You get to tell me what to do, and it's my job to say, 'Yes, ma'am.' So, yes, I'll be here at one. Do you need me to bring lunch?”
“Oh, ha, ha, Cowboy.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” he said, dodging out of the way as she took a light swing at his arm. “See you tomorrow, Freckles.”
“Yeah. And Dan?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
He smiled softly at her. “Any time, Trix. You ever need me, for any reason whatsoever, you know I’ll be there. I promised you that ages ago and it’s never changed.”
She nodded in reply, suddenly feeling too choked up for words.
CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER NINE
