Mac stopped dead in his tracks. Instinct kicked in, and he dove to the ground at the front of the patrol car. As he went down, he grabbed for his sidearm, cursing the jacket that got in his way.
Sinnott pulled off a shot, puncturing the front tire and hitting metal.
Mac made it to the opposite side of the car and, using it as a shield, took aim at Sinnott.
Sinnott fired again, the bullet deflecting off the patrol car’s hood.
Two shots came from the porch. Mac heard the thunk, thunk as they hit their target. Sinnott fired off one more shot into the grass before slumping to the ground.
Dewitt scrambled to his feet. “He said the cuffs were too tight; I was only trying to swap out the flex cuffs for my metal ones.” He ran both hands through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
Kevin checked Sinnott. “He’s dead.”
Mac managed to get up but leaned against the front of the car for support. The rookie mistake had cost them their prime murder suspect, but at least the kid was alive. Mac took a moment to thank God for that. The entire scene had gone down in less than ten seconds, but to Mac it had seemed a lifetime.
“You OK, Mac?” Dana hurried toward him.
“Yeah. Who got him?”
“Philly.”
Mac made his way back to the porch. Philly was handing his service weapon to Kevin.
“Thanks, buddy,” Mac said. “I owe you one.”
Philly patted him on the back. “You’d have done the same for me.”
Mac struggled to maintain his composure. “I should have seen that one coming. I shouldn’t have left the kid alone with a seasoned criminal.”
“It’s not your fault, Mac.” Dana gripped his shoulder. “Come on. Let these guys handle the details of the shooting. We’ve got a scene to process.”
Mac would find time to deal with what he had just witnessed later on, but Dana was right. They still had a job to do, and they had limited time to do it. They had both just witnessed a justifiable homicide and would be subject to lengthy interviews by detectives from out of the area. Mac wanted to get a look at Sinnott and gather as much evidence as possible before the captain yanked them all from the scene. Now they had the original murder investigation that was complicated by the officer-involved shooting. The only good thing that came from Philly killing Sinnott was the fact they didn’t have to do the reports.
Before Sinnott was taken to the morgue, Mac retrieved his digital camera from the van and snapped dozens of pictures of his hands, face, and torso. Mac hunkered down beside their suspect. “Take a look at this, Dana. On his face. Look like old scratch marks to you?”
“I’d say so. They’re healed now, but it looks like they were fairly deep.”
“I got some good photos. This will be excellent circumstantial evidence to go alongside the DNA recovery.”
“Sara Watson fought back, and the killer clipped her nails to remove evidence,” Dana said. The irony was not lost on the officers that a moment of bravery on Sara’s part may not have saved her life, but it provided crucial evidence to link Sinnott to the crime.
Mac mentioned the scratches to Kevin when he came over to them.
Kevin nodded. “I noticed that too. We got a lucky break this time, depending on how you want to look at it. I know you two are up to it, but I’m having Multnomah County Sheriff ’s Office investigate Sinnott’s death to keep things clean. The medical examiner gave us permission to remove the body, but that’s as far as we’re taking it. I want outside investigators with a clean plate to document his death.”
“Good call, Sarge,” Mac said, knowing his time at the crime scene was limited. Kevin was going through the paces, but he was cutting Mac and Dana a little slack to complete their parallel investigation. It was amazing how times like these could be considered normal, but everyone went about their business like this type of thing happened every day. “What about Dewitt?”
“I sent him home. He’ll go in for counseling, maybe take some time off. I think he’ll be OK.”
“I hope so.”
“In the meantime, we’ll count ourselves extremely fortunate to have found Sara Watson’s killer.”
“You’re right about that,” Mac said. The investigative process was exceptionally fragile on these crimes. If the body had not been discovered when it was, the fire would have charred the remains and destroyed the evidence. Sara could well have been labeled a missing person, her name forgotten by all except her family and friends. Such was the case with thousands of missing people. Law enforcement officers either didn’t get their lucky break or didn’t have the technology or the right detective to put the pieces together.
But, like Kevin had said, they had gotten lucky, and now it would be up to Mac and Dana to put together the pieces of Sara’s murder. Since a confession was not in the cards, they had to figure everything out on their own. There were still a lot of unanswered questions, and they needed to prove Sinnott’s guilt before they could put the case to rest.
They started the search in the home in what appeared to be Sinnott’s bedroom. Inside the room, detectives located the typical items they would expect from a registered sex offender. Stacks of pornography littered the floor, along with user amounts of marijuana and what appeared to be crystal meth. Besides heaps of dirty laundry and fast-food bags, they didn’t find much more of evidentiary value. A lengthy search of the rest of the house yielded few additional results, taking them up to daybreak, when the search was complete.
Mornings on these all-nighters were the hardest time for Mac. Sunlight burned his eyes as he made his way from the house to the larger outbuilding. They had learned that the Buick was in the shop at the rear of the property and, although they planned to wait for the crime lab to process the vehicle for trace evidence, he wanted to have a look and take some photos.
A dayshift trooper arrived at sunup, offering to get some more coffee for everyone, but Mac declined. Sergeant Bledsoe, Philly, and Russ had all gone home to get some shuteye. They had all pulled their share of overtime, and it wouldn’t do the department any good if all the investigators were exhausted at the same time. This way, the other half of the unit would get some rest and be ready to return to work when Mac and Dana called it quits.
Mac wondered how Philly was handling the shooting. He’d have to go on administrative leave, and that would be tough for him. Even temporarily losing another detective, especially one as seasoned as Philly, would be hard for the entire department.
He and Dana needed to stay on duty until the crime lab responded to recover the car and the house was secured. Once they were done, they could have Sergeant Bledsoe return the warrant to the judge, which was required after the warrant had been served, with a complete list of evidence that had been seized.
“The lab will be here by eight,” Mac told Dana.
She was photographing the outside of the Buick with her digital camera. “Good, I’m dead on my feet. How long do you think it’ll take them to process?”
“Couple of hours, I suppose, unless they find an area they really want to dig into. I can hang out if you want to go back home and grab some sleep. We’ll need to let Sara’s family know about Sinnott and look for any connections there.”
Dana arched her back, placing her hands on her hips to stretch. The digital camera hung from her neck by a narrow strap. “Actually, that sounds pretty good. The only problem is I’m not leaving my partner behind while I go home to sleep.” She brought the camera to her face and continued with the photos. “Besides. We came together in the van, remember?”
Mac appreciated her dedication. He walked back to the van to let Lucy out, taking a few tosses with the tennis ball so she could stretch her legs. Then after putting her back into the vehicle, drove it up to the house and into the driveway. The blue crime lab pickup pulled up behind him. Mac got out and waved. Angela was sitting in the passenger seat, and the driver was a male lab technician who would act as her assistant while she processed the vehicle and whatever else Mac and Dana requested at the scene.
“Morning, Mac. Heard you got our guy.”Angela exited the truck with a cup of coffee in her hand. “Sorry it turned ugly in the end, but Sinnott probably saved us taxpayers hundreds of thousands of dollars by getting himself killed. I feel bad for the trooper; he must be kicking himself. At least Sinnott didn’t take one of you with him.”
“For sure.” He shook hands with her and then greeted the driver. “Thanks for coming out. I’m Mac.”
“Morning. I’m Richard Anderson.” The man shook Mac’s hand.
“What happened to the house?”
“We had a minor standoff with Mr. Sinnott, which took us into the wee morning hours. You can see the patch job we had to do on the front door after the V-150 came knocking.” Mac pointed to the front door. Uniformed troopers had covered the gaping hole left by the rammer bar with two plywood sheets and some two-by-fours to protect the integrity of the house.
“SWAT does tend to make a mess at a crime scene.”Angela took a sip of coffee from her lidded cup. “Almost as bad as firemen with their water hoses and axes.”
Mac laughed at the observation. “Sinnott kept us busy for a while, but we were able to perform a thorough search of the house.”
“Yield anything?” Angela asked.
“We didn’t find much in there, just some porn and a little dope in his bedroom. No smoking guns. Oh, before I forget,” Mac said. “Sinnott had what looks like three scratches on his face, consistent with our theory about Sara fighting with him when she received the DNA transfer under the fingernail.”
“I knew it.” Angela slapped the hood of the truck. “Good for you, Sara. At least you hurt him.”
Mac nodded toward the back yard. “We found the Buick he’d listed on his registration form in a pole barn at the back of the property. We haven’t gone through it yet, just photographed the outside. I have a key, and we’d like you two to give it the once-over if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, glad to. Anything concrete that tells us Sara was transported in the car?”
“If Sinnott worked alone, this was probably his only means of transportation. As you know, Kristen is thinking the cause of death is asphyxiation. There were ligature marks on her neck and some bruising. Also, there’s an indication he used duct tape to restrain her. I’m not expecting a big pool of blood or anything, but we are still looking for any connection between Sinnott and Sara. And the Indian reservation. I’d like to know why he stuffed that bag and stone into her mouth.” It still bothered Mac that there had been no prints at the crime scene, but a seasoned criminal like Owen Sinnott had probably used gloves.
“Right. That is bizarre. Wonder what the connection is.”
“The jury’s still out. We were thinking a connection to the Indian casino or the Warm Springs Reservation because of some other evidence, but this really throws me for a loop. There’s no obvious connection with Owen Sinnott and the tribe or with Senator Wilde. On the other hand, Sinnott claims to be of Native American descent. Every indication is that this guy is a predatory sex offender who raped and killed Sara and then got rid of the evidence. It may be as simple and horrible as that. But why bury her that far east? And why stuff a carved stone and beaded leather pouch in her mouth as if he were making a statement? I don’t see a guy like Sinnott taking up the plight of the tribe or being politically motivated. He strikes me more as the type who’s only in it for himself. You should have seen him last night—pure arrogance.”
She glanced at the house. “All right, what say we get started, Richard?”
Richard and Angela pulled their truck around and then opened the canopy to access their tools. Both applied latex gloves and grabbed separate tool kits from the back of the car and followed Mac to the barn.
While Angela dusted for prints on the exterior, Richard took a second set of photographs, far more detailed than the set Dana had taken. He would photograph every inch of the car, giving special detail to the tire tread and the areas where Angela was able to lift prints. Once the car was released and the warrant returned, their authority to search the vehicle would end, so they took meticulous care to capture all the evidence they might need.
They started by processing the driver compartment of the vehicle. The interior of the car was a mess, fast-food wrappers and want ads tossed in the backseat. There was so much filth in the car that fruit-fly-type bugs were swarming all over the vehicle. Apparently, Sinnott had created his own ecosystem in his grandmother’s car by failing to throw out his refuse. Richard and Angela donned masks in an attempt to cover the sickening smell of the garbage.
While Angela was printing the front passenger area of the car, Richard began examining each item of garbage in the backseat. “This is why we get the big bucks,” he muttered under his respiratory mask as he searched through the trash.
Angela printed the front driver and passenger portion of the car, then began vacuuming the area with a special tool that gathered the collected items in a receptacle for future examination. Angela maintained DNA and hair samples from Sara Watson back at the lab, so finding evidence in Sinnott’s car that matched Sara’s would put the nail in the coffin and they could officially close the case.
When Angela turned off the vacuum, Richard emerged from the backseat. “I think I’ve found something.” He pulled the mask down and lifted up a torn paper bag with a half-eaten corn dog inside, garnished with hardened mustard.
“A corn dog?” Dana asked.
“Not the corn dog, the receipt that was inside the bag. Look at the date on the receipt. He got ten bucks in gas, a forty-ounce Coors, a lotto ticket, and two corn dogs,” Richard read from the receipt before handing it to Dana.
“It’s dated the day after Sara was reported missing,” Dana said. “At eight in the evening from the Summit Chevron.”
“Isn’t that the gas station between Government Camp and the reservation?” Angela asked. “The stop-and-rob place that looks like it’s in the middle of nowhere along Highway 26?”
“That’s the one,” Richard said. “I always stop there for a Big Gulp when I’m heading to Bend.”
“Right, and it’s only about twenty miles from where Sara’s body was dumped. Good job, Richard.” Mac slapped the young tech on the back. “This will be one more piece of circumstantial evidence to close out this case. We’d better take a trip up to the Summit Chevron tomorrow, Dana. In fact, we should get a trooper up there in case there are some surveillance tapes we want to check out.”
“Good idea. I’ll get on it right now.” Dana pulled her cell phone from her vest to call dispatch and make the request for a Government Camp trooper to contact the store manager. They would still have to make a personal visit to the location, but they didn’t want to find out the owner had recycled the videotape. Five weeks—almost six weeks now—was a long time. They would also have to make sure the receipts the cash register was issuing had the correct time and date.
After Richard and Angela completed their search of the backseat garbage, Angela vacuumed the floor like she had done with the front seat area to collect trace materials like crumbs and hairs. There was so much debris, she filled up three of the hockey-puck-sized canisters before completing the task. Most of it would be plain old filth, but there may be a hair or two belonging to Sara. For this hope, Angela would assign a scientist the painstaking task of searching through all three canisters for trace evidence. Once the vacuuming was complete, they photographed the vehicle in a cleaner state before returning all the non-evidence items to the backseat.
All that remained now was the trunk of the car, which Mac thought bore the greatest potential of holding evidence. He popped the trunk after ensuring that Angela had completed her search for latent prints. After turning the key and lifting the trunk lid, Mac peered inside. “The trunk looks pretty clean.” A spare tire sat in the back, along with a set of jumper cables and some motor oil. Off to one side, Mac spotted a roll of duct tape and pointed it out to Angela, who took photographs and bagged it. They also found some dirt. Mac stepped back to let Angela complete her forensic examination.
She pushed the trunk lid all the way up, lifting her camera to photograph the top. “Whoa. What do we have here?”
Mac and Richard leaned forward. “What is it, where?” Richard asked.
“On the trunk lid.” Angela bit into her bottom lip.
Richard shined his flashlight to highlight several scratch marks. The scratch marks had gone through the paint, in parallel patterns of three or four scratches.
Angela grimaced. “These were made by human fingernails, guys.”
Mac whistled. “If these were made by Sara Watson, she was still alive when he transported her.”
He looked around for Dana and found her just outside, taking pictures of a flower garden.
“What are you doing?” Mac asked. “Find something?”
“I don’t know.” Dana pointed to the flowers. “I was admiring Alma’s flowers and noticed that all the beds were overgrown except for this one. Look how the soil has been disturbed.”
“Maybe Sinnott was getting the yard in shape so he could sell the place.” Mac doubted that was the case.
Dana shook her head. “Beautification would start in front of the house. Sinnott doesn’t strike me as the type to care about the flowerbeds in front or back for any reason.”
“You’re right about that. Do you suppose he’s buried something there?”
“Like bloody clothes?” Dana looked hopeful.
“We’d better have a look. I’ll go back to the van and get a shovel. Say, Angela,” he stepped back into the barn. “Dana might have something. Someone’s been digging in the flowerbed. Disturbed soil in this guy’s yard is mighty suspicious.” He glanced at the smaller shed. “Maybe we’d better take a look at the shed. Confiscate any shovels we might find. We should do a soil analysis of those as well as the dirt we found in the trunk. We might be able to put one of his shovels at the body dump.”
“Good thinking, Mac.” Dana took several more photos of the flowerbed. “There’s a good shoe print here. Let’s capture that too.”
“Will do,” Angela said. “We’ll finish up the car first. You guys can do the print if you want.”
Dana photographed the print, exchanging her digital camera for a 35 mm in their crime-scene kit so she could photograph in black and white. The black-and-white film was always the best for tire tracks and footprints, almost bringing a 3D appearance to the image. Mac mixed up some plaster from a box of the powder in his kit, applying the sticky solution to the ground on and around the print. After it dried, they would be able to lift a plaster cast of the print for future analysis.
“You ready for Big Foot now?” Dana joked as Mac stood up to admire his handiwork.
“I’ve wanted to try this out for some time; it looks easier in training class. I’ve never done it at a real scene, because the prints have never been in good soil like this. They’re always in sawdust or mud or something.”
Mac got a shovel from the van, while Dana grabbed the supplies needed to secure the shoe print cast after the plaster dried. Once they’d salvaged the print and gotten a soil sample, Mac started moving the soil. In less than five minutes, he had unearthed a human hand.