Later that morning, after the field of battle had been cleared of smoke and combatants, two squad cars from the sheriff’s department were parked off to the side at the construction site. Several carpenters and electricians stood in small groups, smoking cigarettes and making idle conversation in low tones. Their pickup trucks and cars had been parked randomly above the construction area. The security guard’s car was in the same spot as the night before; sitting next to it was a company car, with the company logo emblazoned across the driver’s door.
The security guard himself, with his supervisor at his side, was talking to one of the deputies.
“You say you didn’t get a good look at the car?”
The security guard, who normally would have been home and asleep by now, had a Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. He tried to stifle a yawn.
“It was dark. It was a newer sports car, one of them really beefy kind. I don’t think it was a Corvette, though.” He sucked deeply on the cigarette and gingerly sipped the hot coffee, then continued. “I think it was black. But it’s not like we stopped to chat about it, ya know what I mean? She got me working on the tire right away.”
“And you didn’t get a good look at her?”
“She had a hood over her head. She was a blonde and had on a lotta makeup. But it’s not like I shined my flashlight right in her face, though, you know what I mean?”
“How tall was she?”
The security guard took another healing drag on the cigarette and blew smoke into the morning air. Drinking more of the coffee, he said, “About my height.”
“Weight?”
“She definitely didn’t have a weight problem,” the guard replied smilingly.
The officer looked at the security guard’s supervisor as though wondering if he believed the man’s story. But the supervisor kept his expression impassive and noncommittal.
The officer turned back to the guard. “If we showed you pictures of different modern sports cars, do you think you could identify it?”
The guard shrugged. “I could try,” he said. “I can’t promise.”
A second deputy walked up. He had been talking to some of the workmen and had a notebook in his hand. “What do you think, Jack,” he asked his partner.
“It sounds like a lot of planning went into it. I think that means we can rule out vandalism. Somebody had a different motive altogether.”
“Maybe somebody just doesn’t like condominiums, or development out in this area. Possibly an environmental group.”
“Could be.”
The first deputy turned back to the guard. “Stick around awhile…I’ll wanna get a formal report. In the meantime, see if you can remember anything else.”
“Man, I need to get cleaned up. I had a rough night.”
“It won’t be too long.”
The supervisor put his hand on the guard’s shoulder, and they walked away. The two deputies waited until they were out of hearing range; then the second deputy asked: “Was he any help?”
“I’m not sure the guy would know which direction to go if a fire broke out in front of him. But, yeah, the little bit he gave us is something to go on. Maybe after he’s had a chance to recover, he can come up with more details.”
“How long did he say he was tied up?”
“Close to five hours.”
“No shit!”
“Yeah.”
“Poor bastard. They oughta give him a bonus.”
“More ’n likely, they’ll fire the poor bastard for leaving his post.”
Both deputies laughed.
“Let’s take a look around,” the one called Jack said.
The two deputies walked over to the far side of the site. They surveyed the damage that had been done to the structure’s framework and with their eyes followed the tracks left by the bulldozer. Jack noticed something in the set of tracks made just as Carlos had put the machine in motion to ram the structure broadside.
“Look at the ridges and the dirt in between,” he said. “See how it’s been disturbed?”
The second deputy knelt down to get a closer look. He could see imprints left by several sets of shoes. Most of the patterns had been distorted by people milling about, but enough of each remained to infer the presence of more than three or four individuals.
“I’d say maybe half a dozen people altogether,” he said, standing up.
His partner nodded and looked at the partially destroyed framework.
“You know, the thing I don’t get is why he didn’t finish the job. He started it, knocked out both corners, lined up the cat to finish the job, then just quit. What do you make of that?”
“Maybe something happened. Maybe they got scared away.”
“Yeah, something like that. You think we can get a set of prints off the cat?”
“Should be able to.”
The second deputy walked up to the side of the dozer where the accident had happened. He spent a moment scrutinizing the area in front of the operator’s seat and noted the different controls.
“He had to handle more than one of these levers, and unless he wore gloves, I’d say we can get a damn good set.”
“It’d be a damn good start if we can,” Jack said.
Jack noticed something between the inside of the bulldozer’s track and a back panel.
“What’s this?”
His partner looked. “Motor oil?” He grinned.
“Not very damn likely,” Jack said. “And those flies don’t think so, either.”
“Yeah, if that’s not blood, I’ll turn in my badge.”
“And something else mixed in with it, huh?”
“Yeah, it looks like hair…and a few pieces of flesh…”
“A real mess…”
Together, the two deputies peered at what increasingly resembled leavings from the floor of a butcher’s shop before being swept clean. The first deputy picked up a dime-size piece of flesh and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger.
“It’s still moist,” he said.
The conclusion came to both men at once.
“We got a little more here than we thought, don’t we, Jack?”
“I think maybe you’re right.”
Both men gazed about, noting how the ground near the track had been disturbed. Jack knelt down and took a closer look. Here and there, he saw what he thought were discernible patterns in the dirt. Some of them resembled the telltale swirl of the underside of a running shoe, and others, the more symmetrical imprint of a cleated hiking boot. In places, they had been almost obliterated by the concentration of several feet in one area, but there were enough impressions to signify that several individuals had indeed been gathered close to the bulldozer.
“It looks to me like they go off in that direction, toward the woods,” Jack said after another moment of studying the prints.
“Yeah, and it looks like something was dragged or carried that way, too,” his partner agreed. “What do you think?”
“I think we better check out the woods…”
The two deputies picked up an obvious line of travel and walked along it. The combination of footprints and the visible track of something being dragged in the dirt took them away from the construction area and right up to where the line of trees and waist-high undergrowth began. Some of the undergrowth had been turned aside enough to make it evident that someone had entered the woods where they now stood.
“What have we got, Jack?”
His partner grinned. “I don’t know. But let’s find out.”
The deputies stepped into the gap and, two or three yards in, found themselves under two trees where the brush had obviously been trampled down. Whit’s body was against one of the trees where it had been left, but had fallen to one side so that now it resembled a slumped-over, skid-row drunk. One side of his head had been almost flattened, and part of his face had been crushed in. His left shoulder and his left arm both showed signs of having been torn and chewed up.
“Well, well, well, lookee here.” Jack said.
“Yeah—ain’t this a bitch!”
“Big time!”
“Poor fucker got caught on the inside of the track.”
“Yeah, just about pulverized him. A real restoration project for some funeral home.”
“I’ll say.”
A short while later, the first deputy was back at his squad car, radioing in the latest development. Jack, his partner, was addressing the workmen, who had been standing around for the better part of two hours.
“For the time being, this is an official crime scene, gentlemen, so you may as well go home and stay there until further notice…probably a day or two, anyway. We’ve got a body over there in the woods, and as soon as our colleagues get here, we’ll be doing an investigation.”
He handed a clipboard to the nearest man. “I’d like all of you to fill in your name, address, and phone number, in case we need to question anyone.”
He turned to the security guard. “I’ll need your help with a composite sketch of the woman. Do you suppose you can do that?”
The guard smiled haplessly. “I’ll do my best. But like I said, it was dark and she had a hood up over her head. All I could see was that she was blonde, with a lotta makeup.”
“And she was about your height?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, this is more than just a run-of-the-mill case now, so whatever you can do to help is really important. Understand?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good. Just hang out, for now.”
The security guard and his supervisor returned to their cars, and the deputy went over to his partner’s car.
“Roy,” he said, “I got my own theory about what happened here, but I’m gonna let homicide work it out. That’s what they get paid for.”
“You’re right about that, Jack. Let them handle it. Say, did you bring any coffee with you?”
“And donuts.”
“That’s why you’re my partner!”