The Killer in Me Page 7

  “Nice of you to finally report for duty, Fitzgerald,” Fontaine said, his raspy tone giving the statement more bite.

  “The damn car wouldn’t start. I had to get Karl to come out to jump it.”

  Neither man paid any attention to Lila, even as she slipped inside the office.

  Fontaine braced his right arm on the desk and leaned toward Fitzgerald. “Yet, you couldn’t be bothered with calling it in.”

  “She ain’t even here. Sheehan didn’t care.”

  The air was sucked right out of the room. Lila’s body hummed with the palpable tension flowing off the men. Bentley got the lay of the land and stood, emitting a low rumble in her throat.

  “Bentley, off,” Fontaine barked.

  The border collie gave a full body shake and trotted away from the men, coming to Lila’s side to press against her legs. Fitzgerald’s gaze never broke from Fontaine’s.

  Rising to his full height, Fontaine came out from behind his desk and squared up with the other deputy. “Well, I don’t give two shits what Sheehan did or didn’t do. He’s gone, and Sheriff Benoit is running this ship. If you can’t stomach that revelation, I suggest you turn in your badge and gun and walk right back out that door.”

  The ticking hand on the large wall clock tracked the seconds the men stared each other down. With a curse, Fitzgerald moved past Fontaine to grab a clipboard hanging next to the dispatcher’s desk, scribbled something on it, and slapped it back on the wall. Hitching his duty belt to settle on his lean waist, he strode through the office.

  “I’m heading to the east side and working my way west.”

  “If the car acts up, call it in,” Fontaine fired the parting shot.

  As Fitzgerald passed, he ignored Lila. When the deputy was farther down the hall, Fontaine sighed and shook his head, moving to the dispatcher’s desk to key in commands on the desktop computer.

  “Sorry we have to introduce ourselves under such conditions,” he said.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought anyone who was loyal to the crooked sheriff left.”

  “Fitzgerald is the last holdout, and to be frank, we have no idea why. My guess is he’s Sheehan’s spy.” Fontaine picked up a mug from the square table set up as the coffee station and poured some coffee. “Want any?”

  “No thanks.”

  With an acquiescing nod, he set the pot back on the warmer and carried his mug to his desk. Bentley returned to her position at his side, where Fontaine stroked her head.

  “How long were you going to stand there and watch me before making your presence known?”

  Shrugging, Lila took the chair at the opposite desk. “I hadn’t decided.” She pointed at his notepad. “What are you working on?”

  “All the possible leads I’ll need to take in finding out who our victim is. She’s not from here, and the surrounding counties don’t recognize her.”

  “Have you put out a statewide call?”

  “We have. No one has reported back yet. But they’ve had it for only a few hours. And”—he held up a hand when she was about to speak—“there’s a nationwide one too. Same results. So, we wait.”

  Lila let her body relax into the chair back. Her aches and pains were intensifying. Maybe an aspirin wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t as if one pill would set off the madness swirling inside her and suck her willingly back into the vortex of oblivion. Yet her caution over taking even a Tylenol was enough to keep her from popping any pills.

  “Any thoughts on what happened?” he asked.

  “I’d like the autopsy results before I make my thoughts known.”

  “Fair enough.” Fontaine resumed his writing.

  Lila craned her neck to get a better look at the clipboard hooked on the wall. It was the shift schedule. Fitzgerald had scribbled his name next to his allotted time.

  “What did you do on the computer?” she asked Fontaine.

  “I patched the emergency calls over to Deputy Fitzgerald’s unit radio. That way he can respond to them. Georgia only works during the day, and Sheriff Benoit hasn’t decided on a night shift dispatcher. If she can convince the men controlling the purse strings to allot her enough funds for one.”

  “And was there one before Benoit took over?”

  “Yep, and he quit as soon as Sheehan was booted out.”

  “Sounds like he had quite the following.”

  Fontaine set his pen on the notepad and pushed them aside. “In a way he did. Eckardt County is better off without them.”

  His laptop, sitting next to his elbow, beeped. “Hmm.”

  Lila sat forward. “What is it?”

  “Sheriff had the X-rays sent over. She says the preliminary autopsy is over. She’s heading back here to let Dr. Remington-Thorpe finish up alone.”

  “Can I see the X-rays?”

  Fontaine handed over his computer. Lila set it on the desk and opened the downloaded file.

  “Good God.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “It’s really bad.” She squinted at the image of the young woman’s skull and neck. “Something or someone crushed her atlas bone.”

  “It could have been after death,” Fontaine reminded her. “She was tossed down a rocky incline; her head could have struck anything and it would have broken the vertebrae.”

  “And it could have been the source of her death too.” Lila looked at him. “The rest of the X-rays show extensive damage to her skeleton, and most of that was probably caused by her body going down the ravine. There’s a sizable fracture in her skull.”

  Fontaine closed his eyes and bowed his head. “This is not something the sheriff needs right now.”

  “I have to agree, Rafe.”

  Lila jolted at the sheriff’s voice.

  Bentley hopped up from her spot and greeted her owner. Elizabeth knelt and touched her forehead to her dog’s.

  “What’s your next move?” Fontaine asked, rising from his chair.

  “Wait for Olivia to finish the autopsy and see what our call-out to other departments brings. Tonight, we get some sleep and start fresh tomorrow. Until we know who this poor soul is, we’re not going to be able to make connections to move forward in this case.” Sheriff Benoit stood, her gaze meeting Lila’s. “There is a plus.”

  Lila returned Fontaine’s laptop. “And that would be?”

  “The blood smear you found is a blood-type match to the victim.”

  A spark flared inside Lila, but she quickly doused it. The odds that the blood did belong to the victim were slim until there was a DNA match. “Lundquist checked?”

  The sheriff nodded. “And he’s hopeful there is still enough of the sample for a DNA analysis. Olivia is running that right now. We should have the results by morning.”

  “If that pans out, it means the victim was in the Barrett place at some point before her death. Possibly last night. What does the ME say for estimated time of death?”

  Benoit sighed. “Two days ago.”

  Chapter Ten

  Sleep was the last thing on Elizabeth’s mind. Instead, after work she swapped out her uniform for more appropriate attire, leaving the badge and weapon behind. A short walk later, she pushed her way inside the establishment known simply as The Watering Hole. Marnie’s quirk for the ironic tended to fly in the face of those who would otherwise shun or condemn her for her choices. The crackle of Nancy Sinatra reminding her wayward lover that her boots would walk all over him mingled with the heavy odor of incense. Marnie claimed the incense mellowed her patrons to the point they ordered more alcohol. Elizabeth thought otherwise.

  Burning incense tended to mask other odors. Marnie flaunted her “fight the establishment” attitude by allowing smoking in her bar, among other things of questionable legality, despite her big sister being the newly elected sheriff. Marnie was just as notorious for finding loopholes as she was at exploiting them.

  Elizabeth loved her sister and, for the sake of family harmony, let it be.

  For ten thirty on a Tuesday night,
The Watering Hole was busy. Elizabeth didn’t recognize quite a few of the men sitting or standing about. They wore clean button-down shirts and jeans, some in Stetsons, others in sweat-stained ball caps advertising popular hunting gear, vehicle brands, or camo American flags. As she skirted past a group, one man turned to excuse himself and paused to flash a smile. But when his eyes, like all men’s eyes, darted down to take in her chest, a smirk crossing his face. Bentley bared her canines and snapped her teeth. Going pale, the man backed away from Elizabeth.

  Drunken flirtation thwarted. Elizabeth patted the collie’s head and moved on.

  The antique jukebox exchanged Nancy for The Animals. Marnie was in a mood if she was playing Vietnam-era songs tonight. If Elizabeth had to take a guess, she was certain the uptick in roughneck boys in the bar was most likely the cause of her sister’s ire.

  Bentley stiffened at a hiss coming from above. Both she and Elizabeth looked up at the exposed rafter beams. A pair of bright yellow eyes haloed in pure black fur glared down at the pair. A swipe of a clawed paw was followed by a second hiss.

  “Good evening to you too, Luna.”

  Bentley barked at the cat, earning a high-pitched squeal.

  “Go on with you.”

  The devil cat gave a parting growl as she sashayed to her usual perch at the top of the stairs leading to Marnie’s apartment. Bentley quivered. If given one command, she would take off after the cat.

  “Bentley, no.”

  The red collie looked up, pleading in her beautiful eyes.

  “Not even,” Elizabeth said and headed for the polished mahogany bar.

  Decked out in her usual goth black top that exposed a mishmash of tattoos, her crown of Cruella de Vil hair a wild mess, Marnie spoke with a disheveled man at the end of the bar. Bentley left Elizabeth’s side and trotted around the bar to greet one of her other favorite people in the world. At her bark, Marnie looked down and smiled.

  Elizabeth snagged the lone spot left at the bar, bookended by regulars who gave her respectful nods. Her sister gave Bentley a loving rub, and then meandered down the bar. Marnie was such a dichotomy to the young girl Elizabeth remembered, her fingers adorned with rings shaped in the form of tiny dragons or tarnished bands with black onyx stones, her lips painted bloodred, a stark contrast to her pale skin. Elizabeth had always wondered what made her sister seek such drastic changes to her appearance, and she never settled for the pat answer of “a healthy person can be interested in weird things.” The changes had happened right after Elizabeth and Joel escaped Juniper and got married. A tiny voice in the back of Elizabeth’s mind whispered maybe you are to blame, but she didn’t give it credence.

  Bracing her elbows on the gleaming wood top, Marnie coiled a white lock around her finger. “Here to continue your fun from last night?”

  “No. I just needed a place to unwind. Who are all the fresh faces?”

  “If my sources are right, and they usually are, it’s a group from that new fertilizer plant. Didn’t they just open their doors for production like a week ago?”

  Elizabeth eyeballed her sister. “You’re the eco-friendly one, and you don’t know? I swore you protested the whole thing back when Terra Firma came to bid on the land.”

  Waving her off, Marnie released the white lock. “I had other things come up. It slipped my mind.”

  “Right.” Elizabeth had hit that nail on the head. Marnie’s passive-aggressive music was directed at the men from the fertilizer plant. And they had no clue.

  “As sheriff, I would think you would be aware of the newcomers to the county.”

  “Well, yes, one would think, but there have been more pressing matters as of late. And today I was hit by a bad one.”

  “I heard the gossip. Sorry you have a murder to deal with right out of the gate.” Marnie backed up and snagged a tumbler from the drying rack. Splashing a finger of Johnnie Walker in the glass, she handed it over. “Wash down the day. The doctor is in.”

  Elizabeth sipped her favored whiskey. “I can’t talk about it with you, and you know that.”

  “It doesn’t stop the gossipmongers.”

  Shaking her head, she set the tumbler down on the bar. “Let them wag their tongues. All they’re seeking is attention.”

  “Tell that to your biggest detractor. He’s been in here since four telling one and all his exact thoughts on your lack of experience in this.”

  “Why do you allow Kelley in here?”

  “Paying customers are paying customers.”

  “The man doesn’t have a job, Marnie. How in the hell does he even afford that expensive bourbon?”

  Marnie shrugged her right shoulder. Every time Elizabeth brought up Sheehan, Marnie gave cagey answers or none at all. Before she took office, Elizabeth had offered to financially back the bar, but Marnie, in an uncharacteristically angry fit, refused. So she dropped the subject. As sheriff, she did some digging but got nowhere in a hurry. It was a mystery that would remain hidden for the time being.

  Marnie leaned closer. “You know, his being here gives me ample opportunity to eavesdrop on him and give you the lowdown. Karl Kauffmann was in here earlier with Stephen.”

  “He brought Stephen into a bar?” Stephen being the golden child of the Kauffmann clan. Ma had big dreams for her youngest son, and he was living up to them. “That’s not going to sit well with Ma.”

  Stephen was not like his wild brothers. He was quiet and contemplative, a sheer contrast to Karl’s brash and loudmouthed ways. Considerably younger than the middle son, Daniel, Stephen was set to graduate from high school this spring, and Elizabeth heard murmurs that the top three Iowa universities were clamoring for a right to have this bright young mind attend their prestigious school.

  “Exactly. Karl had a little confab with Kelley. They sat back in the far corner, bent over their liquor like two men plotting the demise of the world. Karl and Stephen left here a few hours ago.”

  Elizabeth, taking another sip of her whiskey, rotated to check out the corner her sister spoke of. Still ruling his little parcel of the land, Kelley Sheehan was kicked back, a half full bourbon bottle on the table, and a tumbler dangling from his propped-up hand. He swirled the liquid in the glass, his steely gaze latched on to Elizabeth. With his free hand, he smoothed down his grayed mustache.

  “Wonder what they were talking about.”

  “Who knows.”

  Feeling antagonistic, Elizabeth lifted her drink in salute and smiled at the crooked ex-sheriff. He scowled, and then tossed back the remainder of the umber liquid.

  “Maybe I should go ask.” Elizabeth slid to the edge of her stool.

  Marnie grabbed her arm. “Don’t you dare.”

  Turning back to her sister, Elizabeth scowled. “Why not?”

  “I don’t need a dick-measuring contest going on when I have a bunch of yahoos stinking up my joint.”

  Her tight features slackened into a smile. “Really, Marnie, dick measuring?”

  “Face it, Big Sister, when the men start bringing the glass ceiling down closer to your large head, you get the clubs out and start swinging.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  “More?” Marnie asked, taking Elizabeth’s empty whiskey glass.

  “No. I need to go home. Sober this time.”

  “He stayed all night?”

  Sighing, she nodded. No use in skirting the truth. Marnie had what was best described as a reserved relationship with Joel—at times she could hate him and at others be his staunchest ally. On Joel’s end, he liked Marnie well enough to avoid picking a fight with her. His button pushing was better served against Elizabeth.

  “Thank you for bringing my car home, by the way.”

  “Not like it was that far. But you might want to consider keeping your windows closed next time. Hearing my big sister get it on with her ex is not a sound I’ll soon forget. Imagine all your neighbors. Come to think of it, I seem to recall the two of you never were the quiet types.”

  “Enough, Marnie.
I get it.”

  The Cheshire grin on her sister’s bloodred lips made Elizabeth want to reach over and smear her face.

  “Does Rafe know?”

  Shoulders slumping, Elizabeth looked pointedly at the men on each side of her. “Can we not discuss this here?”

  “Sure. I just thought since I don’t see you during normal hours, this was the best time.”

  “Never is a good time. How about we never have this discussion?”

  Marnie cocked her head to the side. “Not likely to happen.” Her face scrunched.

  Sensing a new presence at her back, Elizabeth stiffened.

  “Back already, Karl?” Marnie asked.

  “I need to have a chat with the sheriff.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and drew in a breath. Karl was the last person she wanted a confrontation with tonight. Letting her breath out slowly, she opened her eyes, and faced the owner of the gruff voice.

  “Karl, tonight I’m not the sheriff. I’m just plain Elizabeth.”

  “No, you’re the sheriff.”

  “Fine. What can I do for you?”

  Karl Kauffmann favored his long-deceased father in appearance and height, a tall, dishwater blond with brown eyes too small for his block head. He also lacked his mother’s and younger sibling’s intelligence. A lot of those missing smarts could be contributed to Karl’s years of playing football and picking fights with anyone who was bigger and stronger than him—and the suspected drug use. Standing before Elizabeth in filthy, greasy coveralls, he sagged to his left. “I wanna know why you blew off Ma.”

  “This is not the place nor the time to discuss that subject matter.” Elizabeth squared up with the man known to have a decided lack of respect for anyone of authority, except his ma. “Pack yourself up and go home.”

  He bent over, his face inches from her own. “Not until you answer me.” The stench of stale beer on his breath curdled the whiskey in Elizabeth’s gut.

  “Touch her and you’ll be answering to me.”

  Elizabeth ground her molars together. Why did he have to show up now?

  Karl tilted away from her and looked over his shoulder at his distant cousin. “This ain’t none ’ur business.”