Grace parked in front of the Owens house, and Tag laughed at the old beater ahead of them on the street. “That car looks worse than AJ’s.” The man in the car adjusted his rearview mirror and checked them out.
“He knows we’re here. The chief posted a car last night.” Grace changed out of her heels into running shoes and pointed at the alley and clock tower. “That’s where the young boy, Kevin Owens, died, running from this house,” she said as she got out of the car.
Tag followed. Beautiful house and neighborhood. The hedge wrapped the lawn, and colorful flowers smelled spicy and earthy. She touched the soft grass with a smile and caught up with Grace, who was talking on her phone.
“AJ? The garage door is open at the house and the crime scene tape is down. Is the warrant good for this?” She was quiet, listening. “Okay. We’ll check it out.”
Tag started to move but froze at a distant sound, anxiously searching the sky. Ice ran through every nerve in her body. At that moment the local news helicopter passed over them and they both watched it. She startled when Grace touched her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Grace said with a puzzled expression.
“That damned sound…always stops me.”
Her face still concerned, Grace turned toward the house. “Come on. Let’s see if the door’s open.”
The back door was unlocked, and they stepped into a large kitchen.
Tag looked past Grace and saw two sleeping bags on the living room floor. Two military duffel bags leaned against the wall beside a pair of military-issued boots. Newspapers were stacked neatly, and a closed laptop sat on a box.
“Someone’s been here and picked the house up. We left it in a mess,” Grace said.
Tag moved around Grace. A room to their right had obviously been an office. Cords and plugs lay everywhere, but any computer or electronics had been confiscated by the police. There were three bedrooms down the hall, bare but for dirty mattresses on the floor. The house was quiet with a few dust motes floating in the sunlight.
“Seven rooms down here,” Grace said. “Let’s go upstairs.”
They found a long hallway at the top of the stairs, four rooms on each side, with more bare mattresses and another bathroom. There wasn’t a mattress in the first room. Just another military sleeping bag. Tag opened the closet. Men’s shirts and pants hung neatly inside, including a set of fatigues with “Owens” printed on the standard white tag. The single bathroom was amazingly clean. Shaving equipment neatly lined the sinks. No feminine products she noticed.
“Someone named Owens bunked in that first room, obviously in the military. There are fatigues in the closet, and look at this. The bathroom’s been cleaned.”
“Those mattresses are victims’ bedrooms,” Grace said. “This was cluttered and dirty when we were here.”
There was a sharp noise downstairs, and they took stairs two at a time, running through the living room, garage, and to the yard, but they found nothing. “This is crazy,” Grace said. They retraced their steps, took videos, and closed the doors behind them.
Tag studied the cement garage floor. “Fresh oil spots and tire marks. Something’s been parked here recently, and those are motorcycle tracks over there.” She looked back at the door. “What did you hear?”
“It sounded like a door slamming.” Grace holstered her weapon, turning in a slow circle. “There is no way John Owens would have lived in this house. It’s beneath him. Let’s check with the chief’s man on the street and see if he saw anything. We have to drive by some of the businesses we’ve connected to this house and then catch up with AJ at the police station.”
* * *
The chief called AJ as she left the Federal Building. She changed directions and then drove downtown to the police holding area. She parked and checked the area. The last thing she wanted was another shooting or car burning.
The chief handed her papers when she walked into the observation room. “Just talked to the Niagara Police. They have the ephedrine we saw on Jay Yardly’s video, but nothing from Clint Weeks. They didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.”
AJ scanned the papers he’d given her and began to go through the suspect’s wallet as Grace and Tag entered the room. “What’d you find at the house?”
“It looks like at least two, maybe three, people there, but let me tell you, John Owens would not have lived in that house. Not his style. Then, when we were upstairs, we thought we heard a door close downstairs. Chief, your guy saw an adult female running from the back of the house and caught them on video. The surveillance is a good idea. We drove by some of the businesses we’ve connected to the house and videoed that too. I sent you the tape since we’re not officially on this anymore.”
AJ pointed at the suspect in the box on the other side of the window and continued through Owens’s wallet. “As you verified this morning, that’s another Owens brother, Robert, three months out of the army. Our victim, Kevin, apparently had two older brothers, both of them in jail at the moment. Look at this receipt. It gives his address as that house, but his driver’s license says La Crosse. Here’s his army ID, Tag. Think you can get some information out of him and calm him down? All he’ll say is name, rank, number, and honorably discharged.”
“What about my clothes?” Tag gestured at her faded jeans, worn boots, and army T-shirt.
“He won’t even notice. Remember how it is when you come home? Like everyone speaks a different language?”
Inside the box, Tag put her hand on Robert’s shoulder and asked about his service in Afghanistan.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and straightened. “I served in Kabul for two years.”
AJ saw that Tag had done this before. They said a few more words, and Tag offered soda or coffee. He nodded and she got up.
“Do we have coffee?” Tag leaned into the room. “Anyone want to go in with me?”
AJ shook her head. Every time she looked at Robert Owens she thought of Katie last night. “Grace, you go in.”
When they began to talk to the suspect AJ realized it had been a good decision. Grace’s easy smile complemented Tag’s firm words.
Owens’s eyes shifted back and forth, and his body moved constantly. He said he was here to find work, his words spilling out too fast. AJ straightened. If she’d been on the street she’d have thought he was on drugs.
“Look at his teeth and skin.” She turned to the chief. “Did we get a blood sample from him for drugs?”
“We should have the results soon. I want to know about the motorcycle,” the chief said and went in, taking a seat. “That’s a beautiful bike you have, Robert.”
“My brother John has worked on that for years. You people better take good care of it because he’ll kill me if anything happens to it.”
“We don’t want anything to happen to that bike or you,” the chief said.
“How long are you going to keep me?” Owens scraped his chair back with an obvious look at the chief’s uniform, then turned to Grace. “Why are you here? He’s police and I understand about the lady last night, but what’s this about? You’re ATF?”
“We’re assisting Chief Whiteaker,” Grace said. “Was the victim, Kevin Owens, a relative?”
“My little brother.” He shoved forward, defensive. “Granddad gave me permission to stay at that house until I find a job. My older brother, John, owns the place, but look what he did.” He made a disgusted sound. “Some kind of sex thing, and now he’s in jail and Kevin’s dead.” He cleared his throat. “He was the coolest little kid. I taught him how to swim, and we played baseball when he got older.” His voice wavered a little.
“We were with Kevin in the alley,” Grace said gently. “The autopsy said he was sick, but apparently it was untreated.”
His eyes skittered away from her. “I don’t know anything about that. Don’t I get a lawyer?”
“We haven’t charged you.” The chief stood. “Who is at the house with you?”
“A couple of army buddies, just passing through.”
Tag smiled at him and leaned back in her chair. “This is like the army. Hurry up and wait. Let’s have more coffee. Maybe we can help.”
Grace followed the chief back into observation and they watched Tag string the kid along.
“Look at him. The color and marks on the skin aren’t acne, and you know what, Chief? You now have a witness to what went on in the house. The only charges we have are the damage to Katie’s car and resisting arrest, but now you can use him against his brother about the kids. If it’s drugs, let’s turn him over to Jock. He’d salivate over this guy, and that would free us up.” AJ shot him a grim look.
“You’re right, and I see where you’re going with Jock. I’ll call Charles.”
AJ mulled that over in her mind. If Owens had shot at her, how had he missed the first time and done so little damage the second? It could be that the people who’d paid Frog had paid him. She stared at the man, trying to make sense out of him. Why had he keyed Katie’s car?
Owens’s body was still in constant motion. “I have a handgun, a Glock .22, at the house, but only for protection.”
AJ frowned at the mention of the gun. No way was he the shooter. He was too strung out and looked like he’d been that way quite a while.
A minute later, Tag came inside. “How could this kid miss, even with a pistol? I know what he did over there. Those guys don’t miss, and what the hell’s wrong with him?”
“Did you notice his face? He’s only twenty-four but looks a lot older.”
“Yeah, and that’s some acne he’s dealing with. His teeth need work too.”
“Good street lesson here, Tag. I’d bet meth. I agree about the gun. He’s not the shooter.”
“AJ,” Jock said, walking into the room. “Got something for me?”
She handed him the paperwork and indicated Owens with her chin. “That’s the brother of the victim, the kid in the alley, from the trafficking house that the chief took down.”
He looked up quickly. “This guy’s your shooter?”
“I don’t think so, but he just said he has a Glock .22 at that house. Have ballistics check it. Tag and Grace did a quick run-through of that house but didn’t run find a gun. He’s staying there. His brother, the primary suspect, owns the place.”
Jock watched young Owens. “He’s on something, isn’t he? Charles said you did a lab test.” He looked at the chief. “How do you want to handle this?”
“We haven’t said anything about the shootings or drugs. We waited for you,” AJ said, glancing at Tag behind them. Jock had ignored her.
“And I have his brother John locked up. The Milwaukee task force will go after him,” the chief added.
Jock blew out a breath and rubbed his short hair. “This guy keyed Katie’s car last night? That was stupid, but it also means he has her name.” He turned back to AJ. “Why don’t I take it from here? I’ll let you know what I find.”
“There’s a laptop in the living room at that house,” Tag added from behind, but Jock never acknowledged her words.
AJ could see the wheels turning, exactly what she’d hoped for. “Jock, this is me, sharing, and the chief has Grace’s video from that house. Both the garage and back door were open and the crime scene tape was down. They thought someone was in the house while they were there, and the chief’s guy has video of an adult female running from the house.”
Jock jammed the papers in his back pocket. “You have people there, Chief?”
“Just one guy hanging out in a car on the street.”
“Why don’t you two work out something. We’ll be out of town for a while, but Bonnie and the chief will be here,” AJ said.
Jock entered the interrogation room, introduced himself, and placed his badge on the table. Robert Owens surveyed the mountain of a man in front of him and muttered something under his breath. AJ was sure Owens was tweaking.
“Wait.” AJ stopped Tag and Grace as they started to leave. “Margaret Hershey, the FBI-DHS coordinator, is picking me up for lunch tomorrow, and I’d like you to meet her. She might have another member for our team, so watch for her email. The agent’s name is Sam Mullins.”
“Margaret Hershey?” Tag turned, hand on the door. “Maddie, right? She did a tour, didn’t like it, and went home. Got married.”
“She said she knew you,” AJ said. “Get Bonnie home safely. Good job today.”
The chief and AJ turned back to the window and watched Jock intimidate young Owens for a bit longer. “What about those guys in our parking lot at work?”
“We’re still working on it.”
“I could swear they were at Jimmy’s last night beside an old pickup. Katie said Robert Owens handed them some takeout. I couldn’t see their faces, but same body type and height.” He nodded. “Watch over Jock for me, will you? Owens has Katie’s name, and even though I don’t think he’s the shooter—”
The chief held up his hand, but AJ pushed on.
“This is different from the mess with Michael.” She took a big breath. “And this task force up north feels wrong. You know it does.”
“Trust Bonnie and me. I’ll walk you to your car.” The chief steered her out of the room. “John Owens is in Interrogation, two doors down with the Milwaukee task force. I don’t want you in there. He’ll know you from the meet you had with him in the gym. Tell me what Margaret Hershey had to say.”
Both searched the area and her vehicle again as they walked through the parking lot and talked about working with the FBI in northern Wisconsin. She also mentioned Maddie’s comment about “Clint Weeks and his good friend, Lawrence Kelly.” The chief laughed when she said they called her Lightning.
“You know about Pete and Margaret?” he said at their vehicles.
“That was surprising, but the energy crackles around her, like…lightning.” They both grinned. “How did you know?”
“I’m there so often that sometimes I forget I’m Milwaukee Police. It’s one big rumor mill and a fight to see who can get what.” He unlocked his vehicle. “Where are you headed?”
“Home to change clothes. If it wasn’t for Frog, I’d fight this task force. My worst fear is that someone paid her to go up there to make sure we cooperated. The meeting with Maddie Hershey tomorrow may change everything.”
“If I know Maddie, count on it,” the chief said.