“Don’t, Zeke.” Julianne tightened her grip on her colleague’s arm. “It’s not Jake. Think about it, this body has obviously been here awhile.”
“But...” Zeke shook his head, unable to finish the thought.
“Come on, let’s get back to the cabin.” She tugged his arm, dragging him away from the body. She was only slightly aware of Brody being on the phone with Max, providing an update to their situation.
Zeke didn’t resist, following her as if in a daze. She knew he still believed the body belonged to his older half brother, but she wasn’t convinced. Still, she intended to use Thunder to prove him wrong.
“I have to find her,” Zeke mumbled.
“Who?” Julianne asked, confused.
Zeke stumbled into the clearing. “Jake’s girlfriend.”
Julianne froze, then came around to stand in front of Zeke. “What are you talking about? To our knowledge Jake didn’t have a girlfriend.”
Zeke dragged a hand over his face then grimaced. “Several months ago, before Jake was kidnapped he confided in me,” Zeke said in a dull voice. “He told me that he was seeing a woman and she’d gotten pregnant.”
Julianne sucked in a harsh breath. “Pregnant?” she repeated, wondering if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Who is she? Is she still pregnant or did she have the baby? Is it a boy or a girl?”
Zeke held up a hand. “Jake refused to tell me her name, although he did say she had the baby, a little boy.”
Jake had a son? “How long ago?”
Zeke shrugged. “I’m not sure. Jake mentioned the boy was about to celebrate his first birthday, but that was shortly before he disappeared. He didn’t like to talk about it, he seemed upset.”
“Upset?” Julianne frowned. “Why?”
“I have no idea,” Zeke admitted. “To be honest I wasn’t very happy to hear about it, myself. Jake should have known better than to put a woman in that position.” Zeke’s gaze darkened and he let out a heavy sigh. “Our dear old dad wasn’t the best example of what a father should be.”
Julianne tried to wrap her mind around this latest bit of news. “Jake must have given you some indication as to who she is or where she lives.”
Zeke drew a deep breath. “He mentioned she lives in Montana, not far from headquarters. But if that’s really Jake back there—I have to find her.”
“Yeah, okay, I get what you’re saying, but first of all, we don’t even have an ID on the dead body. I don’t believe it’s Jake, and you can’t act until we know for sure. In the meantime, you absolutely have to tell Max about Jake’s son.”
Zeke’s head snapped up, his gaze clashing with hers. “Tell Max?” He clearly wasn’t happy about that suggestion.
“If the Duprees find out Jake has a child they’ll use that information against him, forcing him to talk. That’s what this whole kidnapping thing is about, right? It’s not about a ransom demand or anything else for monetary gain. It’s about getting Jake to tell them what the FBI knows about the Duprees. Or worse, as a bargaining chip to convince us to release Reginald Dupree.”
Zeke’s mouth thinned. “Yeah, I can see your point. I don’t think Jake would ever give up the location of his child, but we can’t take any chances. I’ll let Max know.”
“You can trust him to keep the information confidential, Zeke,” she assured him. “Max is a good boss. He won’t get in your face about this.”
“I know.” He managed a crooked smile. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Julianne brushed away his gratitude. Then she frowned. “Hey, what size shoe does Jake wear?”
Zeke glanced down at his own feet, then back up at her. “Same as me, size twelve.”
“The shoe Cheetah found was smaller than that.” She looked around, finding the shoe where Cheetah had dropped it. Without picking it up, she turned it over with the toe of her shoe so that it was sitting flat on the ground. “Put your foot next to it.”
Zeke did, the toe of his shoe extending a good inch and more beyond the running shoe. “It’s not Jake’s?”
Julianne shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she admitted slowly. “And I can’t imagine it’s Clark’s, either. I’m not an expert, but I believe the body has been there for at least ten days, maybe longer. The ME will be able to tell us for sure.”
Zeke looked hopeful. “You’re right, it must be someone else. But who?”
She shook her head, battling a wave of helplessness. “I don’t know, but we need to find out as soon as possible.”
“The ME is on his way, along with a couple of my deputies,” Brody informed them, sliding his phone into his pocket. “And there’s Max and our witness now.”
Julianne hadn’t even noticed that Max and Frank had been down by the riverbank and were now hurrying toward them.
“Show me,” Max said in a curt tone. “Frank, you stay here.”
Julianne led the way through the trees to the location of the body. The wind shifted and the smell was suddenly rancid, forcing her to breathe through her mouth.
“Unbelievable,” Max said in a low tone. “Who do you think it is?”
Julianne filled him in on the shoe Cheetah found. “A better question is who it’s not. I don’t believe the body is Jake or Clark.”
Brody joined them. “It could be someone from Nate’s drug/prostitute business,” he said. “Maybe someone who tried to get away.”
“But finding the orange string and the fact that Thunder alerted on Nate’s scent indicates he was here after the jailbreak, not before,” she argued.
“Doesn’t mean that someone working for him didn’t dump a body here,” Brody countered.
He was right, but she was frustrated to have so many holes in their theory, along with too many pieces to the puzzle that didn’t fit.
“We won’t know this person’s identity anytime soon,” Max said. “I doubt there will be usable fingerprints or any other convenient way to identify the body, which leaves dental records. And to do that, we need to have some idea who this person is. Unfortunately, we can’t search and match dental records in ViCAP.”
ViCAP was the acronym for Violent Criminal Apprehension Program, the FBI’s largest criminal database. There was a gold mine of information in there, a myriad of details related to criminals and their patterns or modi operandi. But unless their victim also happened to be a criminal, they were stuck investigating the old-fashioned way.
Painfully unearthing one clue at a time.
* * *
Brody couldn’t get the image of the dead body out of his head. He felt certain the victim was linked to Nate Otwell’s crimes, despite the fact that it could just as easily be connected to the Duprees.
“Julianne, see if Thunder can pick up Jake’s scent out here,” Max instructed. “I know the running shoe isn’t the right size, but I’d like to be sure.”
“Okay, but understand that the level of decomposition will make picking up Jake’s scent more difficult,” Julianne pointed out.
Max nodded. “I know, but there could be other bits of clothing scattered around as well.”
Brody watched as Julianne took Thunder back toward the cabin. She re-established Jake’s scent, then pointed toward the wooded area. “Find.”
Thunder went to work and no one spoke, not even Frank, as the dog checked out the area. After twenty minutes, he alerted on Jake’s scent down by the river, but not on anything near or around the area containing the dead body.
“Okay, then,” Max said. “It appears Jake was here and was likely escorted to the river and taken away via a boat of some sort.”
Brody glanced at Max. “I can have my deputies question the folks living along the river, see if they’ve noticed anything unusual.”
Max lifted a brow. “Do you have any deputies to spare?”
Good point. “It will take some time,” he acknowledged. “First we’ll have to work this crime scene, see if we can prove the victim was killed here, or if this is a dump site. After that...” His voice trailed off. It would take several hours to clear the area. The questioning would have to wait until tomorrow.
“We could ask the Houston team to work this site,” Julianne spoke up.
Max hesitated. “I’ve already called in several favors to the SAC in Houston. Not sure how many more I want to pile on,” he admitted. “Especially when we don’t know that this body is linked to our investigation and the Duprees. In fact, it seems more likely that it isn’t.”
“But we’ve been using them to help process the other crime scenes,” she protested. “Why is this any different?”
Brody understood Max’s concern. “Because of the timing. We’re actively looking for Nate who disappeared two days ago. A body from over a week ago could mean anything.”
When Julianne opened her mouth to argue further, Max held up his hand. “Let’s wait for the ME to get here, okay? We’ll decide what our next steps are once we have a better idea of the cause of death and the length of time we’re looking at. There’s no use continuing to speculate.”
Zeke cleared his throat. “Boss? I’d like to speak to you for a moment.” He glanced at Brody before adding, “In private.”
“Sure.” Max gave his dog Opal a hand signal, bringing the boxer to his side. Zeke and Cheetah fell in step beside him as they walked toward the river.
Brody couldn’t help wondering what was up, and why whatever needed to be said couldn’t be discussed in front of him.
“Don’t worry, it doesn’t have anything to do with Nate or the gunman,” Julianne said as if reading his mind.
Brody shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Not my business.” Except that it was. Not just because the Duprees had a hideout in his county, but because he’d been assisting the feds with working the case.
And truthfully? He didn’t appreciate being treated as an outsider.
“Is that the ME?” Julianne asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“Yes, that’s Dr. Lincoln Andrews,” he said, gesturing toward the man who jumped out from behind the wheel of a battered pickup truck. “Doc Andrews runs a private practice here with his wife, and also functions as our medical examiner.”
“Hey, uh, Sheriff?” Frank’s voice drew his attention. “Do ya need anything more from me? Or can I head home?”
Brody glanced at Julianne who nodded. “I’m fine with him leaving,” she said in response to his unspoken question. “We have his name and contact information if anything else comes up.”
“You’re free to go, Frank,” Brody told him. “If you see anything else, or remember something, please let us know.”
“Ah, sure thing.” Frank bobbed his head and then strode quickly past the doc’s truck and the two deputies to head toward the road.
“That was strange,” Julianne said in a low voice.
Brody nodded. “Apparently Frank doesn’t get along with our local doctor.” He stepped forward to shake Dr. Andrews’s hand. “Doc, sorry to drag you out here like this.”
“Sheriff.” Lincoln Andrews clasped his hand, then turned toward Julianne.
“Agent Martinez,” she said, shaking his hand as she introduced herself. “One of our K-9 officers found the body.”
Doc Andrews arched a brow. “Really? That’s a new one.”
“They’re impressive,” Brody added. He waited for the deputies to catch up. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”
Despite being in his early sixties, the doc was still in good shape, easily following Brody’s pace as he navigated through the trees to the area in question. The deputies spread out on either side of the site, beginning the tedious task of searching for clues. Doc Andrews set his bag on the ground at the base of a tree, pulled on a pair of gloves and went to work.
They spent hours at the crime scene, but eventually their persistence yielded results. Rick Meyers found the other running shoe, and Dan Hanson located part of a blue T-shirt and amazingly they could read the size imprinted on the back collar as being medium.
“Can you tell us anything about the body?” Brody asked Doc Andrews. “Even a rough age would help.”
The ME let out a sigh. “Based on the bone structure and what’s left of some of the skin and muscle, I’d say we’re dealing with a young male, could be anywhere from thirteen to twenty years of age. I’ll know more when I get what’s left of this victim to the lab.”
A sick feeling settled in Brody’s gut at the idea that their victim was a teenager, rather than a grown man. For a moment his memory flashed back to that fateful night he’d followed Nate to the spot where he’d held five people hostage, ready to sell them to the highest bidder.
Each and every one of them had been younger than twenty-one years of age.
He stumbled backward, suddenly needing to get away from the body that was likely one of Nate’s victims. Possibly from before he’d gotten arrested.
Bending over at the waist, he braced his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths in an effort to keep his breakfast in his belly.
“Brody? Are you okay?”
Julianne’s voice was like a balm soothing his frayed nerves. He couldn’t force words past his constricted throat, so he tried to nod.
“It’s not your fault,” she said softly, wrapping her arm around his back and holding onto him as if she were afraid he’d tumble over. “You don’t know for sure this victim is linked to Nate’s crimes. His death could easily be the result of two kids fighting over the same girl, drugs, anything.”
After two more deep breaths, he forced himself upright. “You’re wrong,” he rasped. “I’m certain this kid is Nate’s victim. He preyed on kids from broken families, kids that wouldn’t be reported missing, or if they were, no one would think twice about the fact that they’d taken off on their own to find someplace better.”
Like Lilly Ramos, he thought dully. Although he still didn’t believe Lilly was dead, there was no denying that she fit the profile—her father had a heavy hand when he was drinking but her mother always bailed him out of trouble. But Lilly’s parents had been convinced she had taken off on her own, searching for a job in Houston. They’d even shown computer searches that backed up their story.
Brody still believed Lilly ran away on her own. He and Nate had spent hours looking for her, checking with bus stops, taxi drivers, anyone who may have seen her. Nate had wanted to keep searching but as the weeks turned into months, even Brody was forced to admit the trail had gone cold.
This young man was different. He must have disappeared more recently, and to Brody’s knowledge there hadn’t been any reports of runaways or missing teens in the past year or so.
“Even if it is linked to Nate, it’s not your fault,” Julianne insisted. “He chose to go back to his life of crime.”
Brody shook his head in disgust. “Logically I know you’re right, but deep down, I can’t help but think that I’m responsible. That if I hadn’t joined the army, none of this would have happened.”
She linked her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she cajoled. “Put your faith in God’s plan.”
He gathered her close, pressing his lips to her temple. She was right, he’d lost sight of his faith and it was well past time to get back on track. Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer for courage, wisdom and strength to find Nate before anyone else was harmed. When he finished, his entire body felt lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“Um, hate to interrupt,” Max said. “But Zeke and I are ready to head out.”
Julianne lifted her head and subtly pulled from his embrace. Reluctantly, he let her go. “Is there something more that you need from me and Thunder?”
“No, we’re going to grab a bite to eat and see if we can’t get some information on this newest lead,” Max said cryptically. “Are you both sticking around?”
“Yes,” Julianne answered before Brody could say anything. “We’ll touch base later.”
“You don’t have to stay,” Brody told her. “This is my mess to worry about, not yours.”
A flicker of hurt darkened her eyes, but then it was gone. “We’re working together as a team, at least until we find Nate or the gunman. Unless you don’t trust me?”
He was shocked by her statement. “Of course I trust you. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Boss?” Rick Meyers interrupted them by bringing over something in a plastic evidence bag. “Look.”
He eyed the item in the bag. “A key chain? Where did you find it?”
“Front pocket of the vic’s jeans. Doc Andrews has the body completely uncovered now, we’re just waiting for a gurney to cart him out of here.”
Brody took the bag so he could examine the key chain more closely. There was a square with an S etched on the face and a small chain attached to a key ring. There were only two keys, one bulky key looking to belong to a car or a truck. “Did either you or Hanson recognize it?”
“Not me.” Rick glanced over his shoulder at his fellow deputy who was approaching more slowly. “Dan, does this keychain look familiar to you?”
The older deputy shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve seen several like it. They sell them at the Gas N Go. We could ask for the list of customers, see if anyone purchased the letter S key chain in the past few months.”
Brody wondered if the kid had bought the key ring because he’d just gotten his first car. Nausea swished in his belly and he swallowed hard. “Do that,” he said. “Let me know what you find out.”
“Sure.” Deputy Hanson didn’t spare Julianne a second glance and Brody could tell the guy’s attitude bothered her. But she didn’t say anything as the deputies returned to the crime scene.
Thirty minutes later, two EMTs arrived to get what was left of the body on the gurney. They wheeled it toward their ambulance and Brody knew they’d deliver it directly to Doc Andrews’s lab. When they were alone, he turned to Julianne. “Guess we need to find a new place to stay.”
“Yeah.” They walked down the path to the spot where they’d left their vehicle. “I have to say, it’s bothering me the way the gunman keeps finding us.”
“I know. It bugs me, too.” Brody couldn’t figure out how Nate and the gunman had the time or the technological resources to keep tracking them. “But I have another place in mind, a motel that’s located on the opposite side of the town.”
Julianne’s smile was weary. “As long as it’s not on the same level as the Broke Spoke, it works for me.”
“It’s a step up,” he assured her. “A place called the Sunflower Motel, and they’re pet-friendly.”
“Sounds good to me, even though Thunder is a trained officer, not a pet.”
“I know that, Julianne, but the people running a motel might not see the distinction.”
“Speaking of which, we need to replace Thunder’s dog dishes, food and other equipment.”
“Okay. We’ll stop at the same place we used earlier.”
An hour later they were settled into adjoining rooms. They’d stopped for food, but thanks to the gruesome crime scene, neither one of them was very hungry.
Brody recalled how Julianne had asked about the other kids he and Nate had hung around with at the detention center. He hadn’t wanted to accuse an innocent person of a horrible crime, or waste time chasing a dead end, but that was before they’d discovered the corpse.
He forced himself to write down the names of the boys he remembered. Then he headed over to the motel’s small business center to borrow the computer. It wasn’t easy, but he eventually found what he was looking for, an old photo on the juvie center’s website. He printed it and took it back to Julianne.
“Do any of these guys look familiar?”
She carefully studied the photograph. “Maybe this guy on the end,” she finally said, tapping the picture. “The facial structure looks right, as does the scar at the corner of his mouth. We’d need age progression to be sure. What’s his name?”
“Kurt Royce, he was a year younger than me and Nate.” For a moment he stared at the picture. “I’d forgotten about Kurt’s scar—he was cut with a knife during the first week of juvie.”
“Do you know where Kurt is now?” she asked.
“No, but we may be able to find out if we head down to my office. There could be a recent mug shot of him on file.”
“Let’s go.”
He nodded, shooting up to his feet. If Julianne was right and Royce was the gunman, it would be the biggest break so far in their case.
And his biggest personal failure for not figuring it out sooner.