“Give me a hand. We have to get through to the other side.”
Frank and I pushed against the door until we had Reynolds’s body moved far enough away to wedge ourselves through the opening. He lay on the floor, faceup with his eyes wide-open. Other than the obvious dime-sized hole in his forehead, he looked like he could have been alive.
“He’s still warm. He was killed only a few minutes ago.” I jerked my head from side to side and looked, but Tammy was gone.
“Did Tammy kill him and run?” Frank asked.
“Nope.” I pointed at Reynolds’s gun, still holstered and on his hip. “No matter what, we would have heard the gunshot blast, so that takes us back to the silencer theory.”
“That idiot called Marie after we went to Tammy’s room, and Marie lucked out when she saw Tammy right inside the door with Reynolds.” I punched the wall. “We delivered Tammy right into Marie’s hands.”
When we heard the sirens approaching, Frank propped open the self-locking front door. Seconds later, Lutz stormed in.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
I cursed under my breath for not putting it together earlier as I explained my theory to Lutz. “We need to find out Marie’s vehicle type and put a BOLO out on that car.”
“Already on it, and I have two units heading to her house.” Lutz barked out orders to the officers. “Tillson and Jefferson, search the area for a dark-red 2018 Accord. Foxworthy, go check the parking lot to see if Tammy’s car is still out there. She has an older tan Impala. The rest of you, load the residents in the bus and get them out of here. Use the parking lot exit. I don’t want anyone walking past this crime scene, and get the building taped off!”
“On it, Commander.”
“Jesse, you and Frank head over to that guard’s house.”
“Ken Evans?”
“Yep, him. He’s obviously in on this—whatever this is. Either he knows what Marie Booth and Tammy Lincoln are up to and where they went, or they’re hiding out at his place.”
“Roger that, Boss.” I jerked my head toward the door. “Come on, Mills. You’re driving.”
We took off and left Lutz to handle the mess at the shelter. Plenty of officers were available to help, and before we left, I heard Lutz telling Don on the phone that he needed him and Forensics at the scene.
Since we’d just been at Ken’s home the previous day, I didn’t have to guide Frank there. We arrived twenty minutes later, and because another vehicle sat at the curb in front of the house, Frank made a sharp turn into the driveway.
“This should be interesting,” I said as we climbed out of the cruiser. “I can’t wait to see his face when we tell him we know all about the doctored visitors’ log.”
When we reached the door, I gave it several hard raps. I listened for footsteps getting closer but never heard them. I knocked again then stared out to the street. “It would seem that the owner of that car would be visiting here, right?”
Frank looked over his shoulder and nodded. “I’d have to agree since it’s parked right in front of Ken’s sidewalk.”
I glanced around. My gut told me something was off, and the fact that the porch light was still on was strange. If the visitor had shown up that morning, Ken presumably would have turned off the porch light by then. I waited as Frank disappeared to the back of the house.
In a minute, he was back and shrugged. “There’s nobody on the patio.”
I gave the door a final knock, waited, and turned to leave.
“Did you look in the window?” Frank asked.
“Now we’re Peeping Toms?”
He jerked his chin at the waist-high picture window in front of us that had partially opened drapes. “No but—”
“But what?”
“But why the hell not? We’re right here.”
I groaned as Frank stepped over the junipers, shielded the sides of his face, and peered through the glass.
“No way!” He leapt from the bushes to the porch and, with a hard kick, knocked the door from its framework.
I entered behind Frank, assuming that something was horribly wrong. We sidestepped the door and entered the living room, where two dead bodies—each with the signature bullet to the forehead—lay on the couch. One body, we recognized as Ken, but we had no idea who the other one was. The victim was a woman, and from the way she was dressed, she specialized in an age-old late-night profession.
“What the hell! Marie is covering her tracks while leaving a trail of bodies in her wake.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and tapped on Lutz’s name. “Damn it. When it rains, it sure as hell pours. Boss, it’s Jesse.” I knew saying that was unnecessary since my name was programmed on his phone, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. “We’re at Ken’s house and just found him and an unknown female lying on the couch with bullet holes to their foreheads. By the way they look, blue and bloating, I’d say they’ve been dead since last night. Yep, we’ll be waiting here.” I hung up and cursed. “This is a shitstorm to beat all shitstorms. The question is, is Tammy part of this murderous rampage, or was she taken against her will?”
Frank grumbled as he stepped over the door and waved me to the porch. “Come outside, Jesse. We can think better where there’s fresh air.”