By His Own Hand Read online

  “And?” Ben wanted an answer to the obvious question.

  “We’re pretty much settled on suicide, Chief. Still waiting for the final report from the ME. That and we’ve got a few loose ends to clean up.”

  “Is there a chance it wasn’t suicide?”

  “Like I said, we’re pretty sure. Just want to rule out a staged job.”

  “‘Staged’?” Ben stopped halfway down to his chair. “That sounds a bit Hollywood.”

  “It’s just that there’s an issue with the blood spatter.”

  When Ben only stared back, Tia went on, “There’s blood on the shotgun barrel as well as the victim’s clothing, and we’re comfortable that the shotgun recovered from the scene is the murder weapon.”

  “So what’s the issue?” Ben, now seated, leaned back in his chair.

  “The hands and arms are clean, Chief. No spatter. None at all.”

  Ben furrowed his brow; when he spoke, his voice was respectful but tentative: “Did I come up with a couple of thousand bucks in the training budget or something?”

  Tia knew where he was headed, but asked anyway. “How’s that, sir?”

  “I’m just wondering if I sent you off to some hotshot blood spatter class. That’s a pretty keen observation.”

  Tia took the ribbing in stride. “Not all that complicated, Chief, but I won’t lie. I missed it. It was Livy Sorensen who picked up on it. She noticed it right off.”

  “Sorensen? The MEI, right? Kinda tall? Big-boned?”

  “Kinda, yeah.”

  “She worked your shooting scene last year, right?”

  “That’s her.”

  “All right, so we got a blood pattern issue to deal with. We’ll come back to that. What about witnesses? Who called it in?”

  Tia looked to Travis, who still said nothing, so she went on, “We don’t know. The RP split before the first officers arrived on scene.”

  “The hell you say,” Ben said. “No RP on a body? They just left? Who does that?”

  Tia shrugged. “Well, a shooter would for sure. But more likely, just a freaked-out citizen who’s seen one too many movies about headless bodies in the woods.”

  Tia couldn’t help herself: “Anyway. Uniforms eventually showed up. Found the scene.”

  “‘Eventually’?”

  Perfect. Screw you, Jimmy.

  “Yeah, well, the first cops…” Tia suddenly felt hesitant about throwing anyone, even an arrogant jerk like Jimmy Youngblood, under the bus. She stopped talking and looked at Travis, letting him know this was his job. He didn’t hesitate. Travis got behind the wheel and put the bitch in drive.

  “It was Youngblood’s call, Chief,” Travis said “And his trainee, that new guy. Puller. They were twenty-seven minutes getting to the scene. Apparently a good bit of time after that looking for the body. I’ve told both of them to cover that in their reports.”

  “Twenty-seven…” Ben leaned way back and turned his face up to the ceiling. “At two o’clock in the morning? I could drive to Madison and back in twenty-seven minutes. What the hell, TJ?”

  “Like I said, sir, I told Youngblood to document it. I haven’t seen his report yet.”

  Tia could see, little by little, the Chief was becoming less comfortable with the direction of the briefing. He turned to Tia. “I hope Dispatch has something for us to go on, at least?”

  “Yep,” Tia said. “TJ ordered up a copy of the nine-one-one call. No worries, Chief. I’ll run it down.”

  Tia watched as Ben mentally worked through the information. Spatter issue, late response, a disappearing RP. When he’d been supervisor of the gang unit in Oakland, he’d worked more homicides in a typical month than all the cops in Newberg combined would see in their entire career. The man knew his way around a crime scene.

  “Barrel in the mouth?” The question was almost a statement.

  Tia shook her head. “My guess is under the chin. Took off his entire face.”

  “His whole face? I take it that’s the source of our ID problem?”

  “Yeah. Plus no wallet or cell phone, but he did have a good bit of cash.”

  “How much?”

  “Thousand bucks. All hundreds. Sequential, uncirculated bills.”

  “Bank money.” Ben nodded. “Pretty obvious robbery wasn’t a motive.”

  “Right,” Tia agreed. “Which is what I think gets us pretty far down the road to suicide.”

  “Let’s go back to this spatter issue.” Ben came around his desk. He stretched his arms out and down, tipping his head back as if putting the barrel of a long weapon under his chin. Tia could see he had his finger working an imaginary trigger. “On a shotgun blast the hands and arms are going to be extended like this, right? Straight down. It’s not like a pistol to the head. Couldn’t he have come out of it clean? His hands, I mean?”

  “That’s my thought. But like I said, Livy sees it differently. And she makes a good case for it. I mean, the barrel has blood all up and down it. That means the boy’s arms and maybe even his hands ought to be at least dotted with blood.”

  “So she’s calling that a deal breaker?” Ben sounded hesitant. “We go all in on a homicide? What did Dr. Kowalski have to say about it?”

  “He hasn’t ruled yet, but it’s pretty obvious he’s leaning suicide.”

  “Well okay, then. So if you’re good with suicide, and the ME is good with suicide, what’s the problem? Can’t you get Livy to come around?”

  “Maybe, but we’ve got this one other issue,” Tia said.

  Ben closed his eyes for a long moment. “Of course you do.”

  It was clear he was getting more exasperated with the growing list of problems. After a few seconds of silence, Ben put his hands up and wagged his fingers as if asking for more. “Pile it on. What issue?”

  Travis took the lead. “Out at the crime scene, Chief. We had a bit of a … of a … snafu.”

  Sawyer looked back and forth between both cops. ‘Snafu’?”

  “Yeah. Snafu,” Tia said. “You know. Like a fuckup.”

  “I know what it means, Tia. Just tell me what you’re talking about.”

  “We had a pretty heavy downpour last night,” Travis said. “Only lasted a few minutes, but you know how the skies can open up this time of year. The crime scene got pretty well drenched.”

  “The body got soaked, Chief,” Tia chimed in. “We got a tarp over him as quick as we could and Livy bagged the hands, but by then the scene was compromised.”

  “So?”

  “So,” Tia said, “Livy made her observation of the lack of blood on the hands before it rained, but Kowalski isn’t buying it. He figures the blood was there but must have been washed away.”

  “So the spatter and rain issue? That’s your snafu?” Ben asked.

  Tia shrugged. “Or fuckup. Take your choice.”

  “So Mort is using our less-than-stellar performance at the crime scene to overrule his MEI? Is that fair to say?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Who else was at the scene? Before the rain, I mean.”

  “Just Jimmy and his trainee,” Tia said.

  Travis jumped in. “I talked to Officer Youngblood, Chief. He’s all in on suicide. He didn’t pick up anything suspicious.”

  “Excuse me, Chief?” Carrie spoke from the doorway. At Ben’s nod, she said, “There’s an attorney on the phone. Says he represents the Church of the Rock. Says it’s important he talk to you right away.”

  “Get outta here.” Tia laughed. “You mean to tell me the church lawyered-up?”

  Carrie looked at Tia, then back to her boss. “He said you should take a look at the Channel Eight website.”

  Ben looked at Tia. “What’s this going to be about?”

  “Channel Eight?” Remembering the media truck, she stopped laughing and felt an immediate sense of dread. She did her best to sound innocent and answered, at least somewhat honestly, “I couldn’t tell you.”

  Ben got busy on his keyboard, and Tia saw T
ravis sit up straight and look her way. She hadn’t had a chance to tell him how things went at the retreat so this would be news to him as well.

  She figured she’d better start explaining. “I mean, I went by the campground to check for witnesses. Seemed appropriate. That Reverend Mills guy was there. We had a bit of…” She waved a hand through the air, waiting for the right words to come to mind. “I don’t know. A run-in, I guess?”

  “A run-in?” Ben looked up from the computer screen. “So, what, Tia? Is that kind of like a snafu?”

  Tia heard the exasperation in his voice and knew she was pushing his patience. “Yeah, kinda.”

  “Oh shit,” Ben said, leaning closer to his screen.

  Tia moved her head enough to see what had his attention. The website displayed a bold headline:

  NEWBERG POLICE DETECTIVE THREATENS ARREST OF REVEREND EZEKIEL MILLS OVER DEAD BODY IN WOODS

  “What the hell?” Tia came around the desk to be sure she got it right. Below the headline was the frozen image of the reporter Tia had seen trolling the camp that morning. Ben clicked on the picture and it came to life.

  “This is Lucy Lee-Jones, reporting live from Copper Falls Campground. Earlier this morning, a gruesome discovery was made a mile up the road from here.”

  Standing along the wood line, the microphone held to her lipstick-caked mouth, the reporter did her best to convey breathless anticipation. She began to take quick steps in the direction of the forest. “In the dark of the night Newberg Police discovered a body of what we believe was a young boy, dead.”

  The scene cut away to footage of Travis at the crime scene. He provided a brief statement confirming the fact that an investigation was being initiated into a suspicious death but gave no further information. The video returned to the live shot of the reporter, and Tia recognized the empty stage in the background. So far so good.

  The reporter went on, “As documented in our exclusive Channel Eight video, we have just witnessed a volatile confrontation between a Newberg Police detective and Reverend Ezekiel Mills of the world-famous Church of the Rock. During the confrontation, Reverend Mills was threatened with arrest if he failed to cooperate with local authorities.”

  Tia swallowed hard and felt her heart begin to thump. She knew when it came to police-media relations, the phrase “exclusive video” was never a good thing. Again the live feed cut away and Tia saw herself on the stage with Reverend Mills. The video jiggled and bounced at first as if the cameraman had been running for a better position. Then it zoomed in on a close-up of Tia and Mills facing off. She cringed at the sound of her own voice: “Pull that cord and you’ll be arrested.”

  The reporter came back on the screen and her voice hung clearly in the room.

  “All attempts to obtain a statement from the Newberg detective were unsuccessful, but it is worth noting the officer involved was Detective Tia Suarez. Detective Suarez played a major role in the arrest of serial killer Harlan Lee and was also in an officer-involved shooting that took place last year. It was obvious to this reporter that Detective Suarez and the Newberg Police are going to be taking a very close look at any possible connection between the body and the hundreds of young people attending the Church of the Rock summer retreat. We will be following up on this story as it continues to develop. This is Lucy Lee-Jones, reporting live for Channel Eight, from Copper Lake Campground.”

  The image froze at the starting point and the office went quiet. Figuring there wasn’t much for her to say, Tia kept her mouth shut and returned to her seat.

  Ben sat back. After nearly a minute, he spoke. “How did it go again? ‘Pull that cord and you’ll be arrested’? Really, Tia? Ezekiel Mills?”

  Beside Tia, Travis was staring right at the Chief, waiting for the chewing-out they both knew was coming. Tia didn’t blame the Chief when he directed it all her way.

  “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight.” Ben held up a fist so he could count off each point. He started with his thumb. “You lost the RP on a dead body call. You’ve got an extended and unexplained response time by Patrol. The evidence indicates suicide but the crime scene is compromised and that has created a major problem with the ME’s office. The only pictures you got are ‘shit,’ according to you, and somewhere in there you had the time to threaten a nationally recognized public figure, a preacher, no less, with arrest and get it broadcast on the morning news. Does that about cover it?”

  Tia hid her frustration by doing her best to be flippant. She pursed her lip and scratched the back of her head. She nodded. “Yeah, Chief. I think you hit all the major points.”

  Travis finally spoke up. “Sir, I should—”

  Ben silenced Travis by holding up the palm of his hand. Still glaring at Tia, he said, “Get a number, Carrie. Tell the lawyer I’m in a meeting. I’ll call back in fifteen minutes.”

  As the secretary turned to leave, Ben called out, “Shut the door, please.” With a nod, the young woman grasped the knob and closed the door behind her.

  The office went quiet again.

  “Sergeant Jackson?” Ben said, his voice quiet and firm.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do the two of you need a few minutes? Confer in private, maybe? If not, I have a few more questions.”

  Travis looked her way and Tia shrugged in surrender.

  “Now’s as good a time as any, Chief,” Travis said.

  Ben pulled a yellow legal pad from his drawer and dropped it dramatically on his desk. He poised a pen over the paper and looked at Tia. “Just go ahead and start over from the beginning. I’m listening.”

  TEN

  Tia got through the door first and into the hallway. She looked back toward the Chief’s office and saw Travis had not walked out behind her. She leaned her back against the wall and kept her eye on the office door. By the end of the briefing it had become obvious to her that she and Ben would be having a conversation offline.

  Fine with me, she thought. She figured she’d start that conversation on the subject of how does the most incompetent piece of shit on the entire PD end up training the new cops?

  Travis emerged from the office and Tia stood up straight. She pushed aside her issues with Ben for a more immediate concern. Watching Ben and Travis interact at the beginning of the briefing, it had suddenly dawned on her: she knew exactly what was going on. When Travis made it to the hallway, he shook his head but smiled.

  “That was a kick in the ass, right? Don’t worry, though. I think I got him calmed down.”

  Tia ignored the comment and instead went for the jugular.

  “So where are you going?”

  “Now? My office. You’re probably beat, so take the rest of the day off. I can’t authorize any overtime for the callout, but you can adjust the time off. When you get in tomorrow, come see me and we’ll get a game plan together.”

  “No, Travis,” she said, locking her gaze on him. “I mean, where are you going? What PD? Milwaukee? Madison? County Sheriff?”

  When he stared back without replying, whatever doubt she had vanished.

  “I knew it.” Her voice was full of betrayal and anger; her words came rapid fire: “What did you tell me? ‘I gotta thing,’ you said. Yeah, you got a thing. All dressed up in uniform, sneaking off. I can’t believe it. You’re jumping ship. Sawyer knows?”

  Travis grabbed her by the elbow, pulled her across the hall into his office, and shut the door.

  “TJ, what the hell—”

  He put up a hand and cut her off. “Just listen.”

  Tia fell silent, panting. Her heart pounded in her ears.

  “I wanted to tell you, Tia. I did. But it doesn’t work that way. And nothing is for sure yet, so why bring it up?”

  She could see he was looking for understanding. Some kind of support. She wasn’t even close to giving it. “I asked you, where?”

  TJ blew out a long breath and his face softened.

  “San Diego County Sheriff’s Office. They sent out a background investigato
r. We had a meeting set for this morning. Sorry. I couldn’t get out of it.”

  “What the—?” Tia thought she must have heard wrong. “California? You’re moving your family to California? Is Molly okay with this? Have you really thought this through?”

  “Okay with it?” Tia heard anger creep into his voice. “Are you kidding me? This place is killing us. I’ve got four kids. We rent a two-bedroom house with one bathroom.”

  He moved behind his desk and threw down his notebook. “Do you know we’re eligible for food stamps? ’Course they don’t call it that anymore, they give you some bullshit plastic card, but it’s the same damn thing. Fricking government handout for people who can’t afford to feed their kids.”

  “But, TJ, you—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Tia. Molly and the kids…” His voice went up an octave. “They deserve better than this. Hell, I deserve better than this.”

  They both went quiet and Tia knew enough to wait him out. He had more to say.

  “We’re practically hand to mouth. Fifty-, sixty-hour workweeks, calls in the middle of the night, and for what? Did you know our pay is the lowest in the state? Zero overtime. And our benefits?”

  “But, Travis, things will—”

  “Molly took Leo to the doctor last week. His fever was almost a hundred and two. He’d been sick for two days before she took him.” His voice cracked. “You know why she waited?”

  Tia only shook her head, silenced by his raw emotion.

  “Because we didn’t have the hundred-dollar co-pay. Turns out it was an ear infection. He needed antibiotics and that was another hundred bucks we didn’t have.

  “We waited two days.” Tia stood silent and Travis glared back. She picked up on a slight quiver in his chin. “My boy was sick. He needed a doctor and we waited two days.”

  “But TJ, starting over? It’s a big transition. You’ll have to go through the academy again, ride patrol.”

  He dropped into the chair behind his desk, dejected. “Molly’s sister lives out there. Big house in the suburbs. We’ll stay with her while I’m in training. After that we can rent something. We won’t be able to buy a house for a few years but still, the pay raise is huge. And guess what? If you work more than forty hours a week, or you get called out in the middle of the night, they actually pay you for it. Hell, they even got a pension plan. What a concept, right?”