| |
Darby
Pierce’s house was a log A-frame affair with a definite rustic feel. If I weren’t certain I was about an hour outside of Kansas City, I’d think I was near the mountains. Tall pine and spruce trees surrounded the house, making me believe it was intended to invoke a sense of the Rockies.
Unfortunately, the presence of the sheriff’s department and the Kansas Bureau of Investigation crime lab sent the vibe off.
I recognized Deputy Furlong when he stepped out onto the front deck. He was maybe five-ten, a little paunchy around the middle, but with sharp brown eyes and a military-style crew cut.
We shook hands when I reached him.
“Where’s Pierce?” I asked.
He waved his hand. “Through here.”
The A-frame had been divided into neat living sections on the main floor. Kitchen and dining in the back, along with what was likely storage and probable access to the basement, living area in the front. Furlong led me upstairs. The back side of the house was a master bedroom. The front, an office. Only a short hallway divided the two.
Pierce was still sprawled where I’d seen him in the call.
I rubbed a hand over my mouth. Seeing a dead body was one thing. It was entirely different when I’d spoken with the person a scarce twelve hours earlier.
“You friends with the deceased?”
I shook my head. “He was a suspect.”
“Looks like he’s off your list.”
I nodded. “Any chance you’d release him to Kansas City? I know it’s out of jurisdiction...”
Furlong frowned. “I don’t know...The K.B.I. is assisting, but it’s kind of their call. They’re the ones handling the autopsy. We don’t have that kind of facility here. We’re a small department.”
“I’ll put in the request. I do want our medical examiner to take a look. I’m no expert, but these wounds look identical to the ones on another body back in K.C.”
“You’ll have to talk to the K.B.I.”
“Who’s in charge?” I squatted next to Pierce, not touching him, but needing to get a closer look.
“I’m in charge for Osage County. Agent Jennison is heading up the K.B.I. folks.” He crouched next to me. “You sealed up, right?”
I nodded. “Before I got out of my car.”
Rick’s chest was a mess. My best guess was there were somewhere between twenty and thirty wounds. His hands showed some sign of a struggle. I’d hoped he’d fought.
“Where are his glasses?”
Furlong frowned. “Who wears glasses anymore?”
I nodded to Rick. “He does. His powers had to do with his sight. I’d presume he couldn’t risk having correction because it could affect it.”
“I’ll make sure we locate them.”
“Good. If I can bring him back, he’ll want them.”
Furlong cocked his head. “You’re seriously thinking you could bring him back?”
“If we find his killer.”
The deputy gave Rick’s body a long, hard look. “How do you know he’d want to?”
I pushed to my feet and dusted off my hands, even though I hadn’t touched anything. “I don’t. But I know he has people who care about him, and I’d bet they’d want it. Is Amanda O’Flannigan still here?”
He nodded. “Downstairs. I think we have her outside the house.”
“I’d like to talk to her. She may know something to help with my case.”
Furlong opened his mouth when we both turned and nearly ran into another, taller man wearing a K.B.I. jacket and hat. “Agent Jennison, this is—”
“I know Detective Shaw by reputation.” Jennison extended his hand. “Pleasure, ma’am.”
He squeezed hard, but I tried not to take offense. Men often over-squeezed my hand, especially in this profession. I said, “Agent. Deputy Furlong was going to escort me to speak with Amanda O’Flannigan.”
Jennison frowned, then pulled out his radio. “Ventura, hold O’Flannigan for a few minutes.”
“You were going to let her go?”
He shrugged. “She’s told us everything she can. What I want to know is why our victim was a part of an investigation in Kansas City.”
“I’m not comfortable discussing aspects of this case outside a safe environment.” I lowered my voice. “Have you swept this space for listening devices?”
He seemed taken aback. “Do your superiors allow you to get away with questioning their investigative abilities?”
“I’m not questioning your abilities, sir, but with all due respect, there are some aspects of this case you’re better off not knowing. It may be what got Richard killed.”
“You’re chummy with the victim?”
“No sir.” I told him how I knew Pierce, and a bit of my suspicions.
“But he was a suspect?” Jennison said.
“Up until he ended up dead, yes.”
Jennison frowned. “I’d like to see your casefile.”
“Contact my captain. I can’t give authorization, especially considering the fact that there are some things I can’t put in my file.”
He narrowed his gaze, and if I’d still been a rookie, it would have been intimidating. I’d long gotten over other cops trying to dragoon me. “Maybe I’ll have you escorted from the scene if you’re not going to cooperate.”
“Agent,” I said, trying to keep my tone level. “We both have unsolved murders which appear to be related. It’s in our best interests for me to stay.”
His scowl deepened. “You have fifteen minutes, then you’re out.”
I decided to press a little further. “I would like to have Pierce’s body transferred to Kansas City to be examined by our M.E.”
He narrowed his eyes. If looks could kill, I’d be in a world of hurt. “Our people are more than capable of handling his autopsy.”
“There are special considerations if I’m to attempt a resuscitation. Dr. Holly Stack in Kansas City examined my victim, and she could corroborate whether it was the same killer who took Pierce’s life as took Prairie Rasmussen’s life.”
“Get out of my sight, Detective.”
* * *
FURLONG ESCORTED ME from the house. “Sorry about that, Detective. I don’t think Jennison is used to people standing up to him.”
I shook my head as the sun hit my skin. For a moment, I turned my face up to its heat.
“Not your fault, Deputy.” I had a few unkind things to say about Jennison’s pay grade and the information I knew being above his security level, but decided to check my mouth. “Where’s Amanda O’Flannigan?”
“This way, ma’am.”
A cluster of spruce trees stretched to at least ten meters tall, and behind the cluster stood another officer with K.B.I. gear and a tall, wispy woman with jet black hair reaching nearly to her waist. The shape of her eyes had me leaning toward Native ancestry, but her skin was incredibly pale and her eyes a brilliant green, almost the exact shade of Mark’s. She held her head proudly, but her eyes were red-rimmed. As I came closer, she took out a cloth handkerchief edged with what may have been Irish lace and blew her nose.
The K.B.I. officer came to attention when we approached, then settled when he saw us and apparently recognized my compadre. “Deputy, is this the detective from Kansas City?”
“I am,” I said before Furlong could reply. “I’d like a few minutes with Ms. O’Flannigan.”
“You’re free to go after she’s done, ma’am,” he said to the tall woman.
She nodded.
“Can we walk around the premises?” I asked.
The agent grunted. “Don’t wander too far.”
“Got it.” I motioned O’Flannigan to head toward the rear of the house. When we were out of earshot, I said, “I’m Detective—”
“I know who you are,” she said, focusing on the path. “Rick told me what happened the last couple days.”
“Right. What else do you know about what’s happened?”
“I know you accused him of murdering Prairie Rasmussen. I also know you were in a near-deadly wreck and your place was torn to smithereens.”
“That covers most of the bases. Were you aware of Rick’s relationship with Prairie? Or the nature of it?”
“Yes. She was giving him information, trying to figure out who was planning to put supers like you and him into camps.”
“You don’t believe the government would actually do that again, do you?” I stopped and waited for her to turn back. She did, about five feet away.
“You of all people should be the most willing to accept they would if they thought they could get away with it.”
I took a step closer. “It doesn’t mean I don’t think they may have wised up.”
She scoffed. “This is the government we’re talking about.”
“I can’t get past motivation. Why would they do something like that?”
“Because they can? Because they want to figure out either how to genetically modify people to make them supers, or change supers back to normal? You people are a danger, or didn’t you realize it?”
I ignored the dig. She could be excused, this time. “How long did you know about Rick and Prairie working together?”
“I was the one who vetted her for the project.”
“You’re not a super.”
“No, I’m not. But I’ve loved two men in my life who were, and God willing, you’ll be bringing one of them back to me.”
Two? That hadn’t been in the information I’d dug up. The girl in me was curious who the first super had been...and what had happened. But I had no time for that. Her boyfriend was dead less than a hundred meters away and I needed to figure out why.
“I can’t do it alone, Amanda,” I said. “I need to know what you guys know.”
She shook her head and turned away. “Rick told you everything on Wednesday. Or as much as he could with the time you had.”
“What else was there to tell?”
She stared up at the house, and a tear cascading down her cheek. She wiped at it. A ring not unlike a wedding band with a Celtic knot pattern encircled her ring finger. “Maybe he was scared beyond belief someone would find out. He was afraid he’d be the next person killed. Because of what he and Prairie had managed to unearth, what they were planning to do with the information.”
“What exactly was that?”
She turned back, and her green eyes pleaded with me to believe her. “I was going to write an exposé, one showing what the DSHA were doing. We were going to put pressure on them to clean house, to return the properties they’d snatched up for camps to their former owners. They have locations in twenty states, you know?”
I took a step back.
“Oh, you didn’t know? I guess Rick wasn’t able to tell you as much as I thought.”
“Amanda, there will be a time and place for everything to be revealed. But I need to know: do you or did Rick know who killed Prairie? Are you aware of who might have killed him? I can’t do anything to save his life if I can’t catch his killer.”
She mopped at her tears again. “No. He may have had some really good guesses, but he never told me. He wanted to protect me.”
I took a step closer and put my hand on her arm. Something akin to the electricity I shared with Mark fired, but it was much different, more like a low buzz, like when you hit your funny bone squarely, though without the pain.
Strange.
She must not have noticed it. I chose to ignore it, too.
“Amanda, do you have someplace safe to stay?”
She shook her head. “If I’m a target, I don’t want to bring that onto my dad, my friends.”
“What about boarding a flight? Surely you could use a vacation. Somewhere warm? I’ve heard Fiji’s nice this time of year.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to leave, not when Rick’s headed for the morgue.”
I mulled over the resources we had back in the city. “Where’s your place?”
“I live in the next county, near Ottawa.”
On the way back to Kansas City. Convenient. “I’d like to offer you protection until Richard’s killer has been caught. It would have to be in the city. We don’t contract with Franklin County or Ottawa PD.”
She frowned. “Do you think I may need it?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But you know more than anyone, and I’d hate to lose you because I didn’t offer it. We don’t know what the limits are to my abilities and the most victims I’ve ever resuscitated at once was two. I don’t know if I’d be able to bring back a third.”
“If you catch Rick’s...Will I be able to be there when you bring him back?” Her eyes had a distant, pained look. Grief. And a shade of hope.
“It would depend on what goes down between now and then.”
She bit her lip. “Okay. I’ll allow it. But I’m bringing my own guns. I’m not some delicate wallflower, and I damn well know how to protect myself.”
I raised my eyebrow. “I don’t think we normally arm people in protective custody.”
“That’s the deal. I’m almost good enough to compete. I’m not doing this unarmed.”
Oh, the captain was going to love this.
“Two sidearms, and my people have to check them out, make sure they’re legal.”
She rolled her eyes, but nodded.
“Now, some follow-up questions, then we’ll get out of here. When was the last time you spoke with Rick?”
She took a deep breath. “Last night. We fought. I can’t believe the last things we may have said to each other were in anger.”
“What did you fight about?”
She snorted. “The time he was spending with Genova. They have a history.”
My stomach turned. “You were jealous?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“How would you characterize your relationship with Rick?”
Another snort. “On-again, off-again.”
“How long have you known him?”
“Since we were young enough to think boys and girls were icky.”
Well before he found out he was a super. “And how long have you been romantically involved?”
“What’s this have to do with his murder?” Her emerald gaze flashed, and I could see the journalist fire to life.
“Trying to get background.”
“Off and on since my husband—his best friend—died a few years ago.”
I hadn’t read it in their dossiers, but it wasn’t necessarily something that would show up. “So you spoke to him last night, and it was heated?”
Her eyes tried to swim again. “I regretted it, so I came over this morning. He wouldn’t answer his comm, so I thought he was being stubborn and still pissed. I figured I’d come over, fix him breakfast, try to smooth things over.”
“What time was that?”
“I got here around seven.”
“You knew he was expected in Kansas City this morning?”
She shook her head, lifting a hand to her forehead and rubbing hard. It left a mark. “No. You were going to interrogate him again?”
I nodded. “What did you do when you got here?”
“I checked his garage first.” She pointed back to a large metal building I hadn’t noticed until now, nestled among oak, elm, and cottonwood trees. “Sometimes, when he’s upset, he tinkers. But he wasn’t there. So I went in the house. I knew he was here because all his cars were still in the garage.”
“And how long did it take you to find him?”
She frowned. “I don’t know, maybe ten minutes. I started fixing some food, thinking he’d taken a walk since the front door was unlocked. Then I wondered if he was being stubborn, so I went upstairs to check.” A sob popped out of her mouth, and she quickly put a hand up. “Sorry. I know, I shouldn’t cry.”
I put my hand on her arm again. “It’s okay. If someone I knew was killed, even though I know there’s a chance I could bring them back, I’d be a mess too.”
She gave me a watery smile. “You’re not like most cops, Detective.”
I chuckled. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Today, it’s good.”
Before I could stop her, she was hugging me, and that weird electricity popped again. What the hell?
She finally pulled away and wiped at her tears. “Sorry. I’m a hugger. Can’t help it, always have been.”
“No problem.” I cleared my throat and took a half-step back. “You know I have to ask, I’m sure.”
“Where was I last night and this morning?”
I nodded.
She blew out a breath. “I’ve been trying to get some answers for another story I’m working on, so I was actually meeting one of my sources. I was in Kansas City.”
“Where?”
She winced. “I can’t tell you.”
“Okay, who were you with?”
“I can’t tell you. But my GPS in my car will confirm I was in the city. I parked at a public park in Shawnee, met my sources, and they drove us around the city for two hours while we talked. I didn’t get home until nearly midnight. Fought with Rick over the comm on the way back.”
“And you went to bed after that?”
“I wish. Insomnia. Something horrible.”
I smiled. I could commiserate.
“I was actually up doing some work until about two. Got up around five-thirty, went for a walk with my dog, got back, showered, and started calling Rick. Decided to come over around seven.”
Seemed reasonable. Not sure about corroboration, but the lab techs could pull the GPS and verify her car at the least. “What about Sunday night between six and midnight?”
She put her hand to her forehead again. “Prairie’s murder?”
“Yes.”
“Got out of church around six-thirty, had dinner in Ottawa with some friends. After I went home, I turned on the screen for a while.”
“Did you see Rick?”
She shook her head. “He was busy with his car, something about the carburetor being off. I think. I’m so bad with cars, I’m not sure what he was doing, honestly.”
“What about the rest of the night? Did you talk to anyone? Go out again?”
“Detective, I live in the country. I don’t make runs to town for the hell of it. Besides, everything shuts down except a handful of restaurants by five P.M. on a Sunday night. I was tired, and I think I tried to go to bed around eleven. Called Rick before I did, we talked for a few minutes, but he was distracted with his car.”
“Do you think he was working on his car the entire evening?”
“It’s very likely. He’s done it many, many times, sometimes when I’m there.”
“And how would you describe the nature of his work?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Vital. He helps protect the rights of supers like you every day. It’s what gets him out of bed.”
“Why is that?”
“Besides the fact that he’s a super?”
I nodded.
She turned away and stared at her boyfriend’s house. “Three years ago, his best friend was murdered. A group who hates supers kidnapped him and tortured Geoff for three days before they killed him. All because he was a super. That is why Rick and I do what we do.”
A chill raced up my spine. “I’m so sorry.”
She nodded. “I’ve made my peace, so has Rick. But we both work to make sure it never happens again, not to him, not to you, not to any other superhuman.” She turned back and stared me down. “That’s why you need to make sure you catch his killer. You resuscitating Rick means more than just bringing back a man I love. It means helping other supers and their families. It means stopping groups like the one who killed Geoff.”