Fatal Forensic Investigation, page 7
Pounding feet shouted on the path, bringing her hope of rescue.
“Scarlet, where are you?”
Jace. Thank You, God.
Scarlet mustered strength and pulled her knee upward, hitting the person in the back.
The masked suspect yelped and rolled off her. Hopping to their feet, the attacker raced into the dense woods, disappearing into the fog.
“Over here!” Scarlet eased herself up, coughing and gasping for breath. She inhaled and exhaled.
The object on the ground caught her attention. A recorder. She took a tissue from her pocket, picked up the device and pressed Play.
A woman’s screams sounded.
A ruse to bring her to this trail. Which meant—
CLS had been watching and had tried to take her out again. She scampered to her feet, gasping for breath.
Jace appeared beside her. “Don’t leave my side again.” His nostrils flared.
The tension in his voice told her she’d scared him, but now wasn’t the time for regret or apologies. She only wanted them to catch the suspect.
“Masked person just escaped. Tried to strangle me.”
“What?” He brought her into his arms. “Are you okay?”
“Better now.” Her body went limp in his embrace, then she popped back and held up the recorder. “They used this to draw us down the path. Why weren’t you right behind me?” Her words came out in wheezing breaths. She rubbed her neck to soothe the pain from the attacker’s grip.
“Someone shoved a box of vegetables at me. I fell.”
Scarlet drew in a sharp inhale. “The suspect was trying to get me alone.” She played the recording again.
“Which way did they come from?”
She pointed toward the woods on the path.
“Let’s go!” He raised his sidearm and bolted into the brush.
She picked up her gun, shoved the recorder into her pocket, and followed him. Moments later, they emerged from the trail and into the back alley of the downtown core. Business owners were out gathering their garbage. A cable technician loaded equipment into her truck.
Jace stopped by her. “Kinsley, did you see a masked person run this way?”
The slender brunette shifted her ball cap and tucked her tool belt into the back of the van. “Hey, Jace. I didn’t see anyone.”
“Odd. They would have gone right by you. Scarlet, this is Kinsley Harrison, cable technician.” Jace addressed the other woman. “You’ve been in many homes with your job. Have you seen anything unusual lately?”
The young woman stepped backward, stumbling into her van. “Why? What have you heard?”
Scarlet and Jace exchanged glances.
The woman’s nervousness revealed something she didn’t want the officers to find out.
“Nothing. We’re investigating a case. What is it, Kinsley? What do you know?” Jace asked. “You can trust us.”
“No, I can’t. You’re cops. I gotta get to work.” She climbed into the van and sped away.
“Well, I wonder what that was about.” Scarlet twirled a hair strand around her finger. “She clearly knows something and doesn’t want to tell us.”
Jace surveyed the back streets. “Whoever stalked you is long gone now.”
Scarlet massaged her neck. A bruise would no doubt materialize any time. Even though weariness plagued her, she had to press onward. Perhaps caffeine would help. “I’d like a latte. How about a midafternoon break?”
He scrunched his nose. “Latte? No, thanks. But yes, I’ll have some tea. Let’s go.”
Did he know how adorable he was with that expression?
She ignored the feelings creeping up on her and followed him to the front of the shops. Scarlet couldn’t let any romantic thoughts sway her away from solving the case and regaining her lost past. Even if the temptation hit her over the head with a proverbial two-by-four.
Scarlet sprinted to catch up to his long strides.
Tires screeching caught her attention.
Scarlet and Jace whirled around.
A black F-150 jumped the curb and pulled onto the sidewalk, careening toward the duo. Her brazen attacker had returned to finish the job. Would CLS’s relentless pursuit ever end?
Could they escape the driver’s deadly path before it was too late?
SEVEN
Jace thrust his arms around Scarlet’s waist and propelled them both toward the coffee shop, away from the truck’s trajectory. They landed against the weathered door. Hard. The force of their combined bodies burst the glass, sending slivers into their skin. Cuts stung his arms and face, but he ignored the pain. Lord, protect Scarlet’s head from further harm.
Screams erupted inside the establishment at their sudden appearance. People scrambled from their tables, sending dishes crashing to the hardwood floor.
Jace struggled to stand, forcing strength into his limbs. “You okay?”
“Yes!” she yelled, holding on to a bleeding cut on her arm. “Go get that maniac.”
He unholstered his Glock and ran out the broken door, raising his weapon.
The truck had plowed into a fire hydrant, letting loose a water spout that rained down on anyone in its path.
A woman and a teenage boy were sprawled out on the sidewalk. The driver had injured more than their intended target. Jace gripped his weapon tighter. What kind of person would try to run down innocent people?
They both moved, indicating they were alive. Thank You, Lord.
Jace hit his radio button. “Officer in need of assistance. Roll an ambulance and backup.” He spieled off the address and inched toward the driver’s door. “Police. Come out with your hands raised.”
The driver stepped on the gas and drove over the curb, speeding down the street.
Jace memorized the license plate.
Scarlet stumbled from the coffee shop. Blood dripped down her arm and face. She swatted it from her eye and scurried to the people on the ground. “Are you hurt?”
Jace holstered his gun. “I’ve called for an ambulance. Did the truck hit you?”
The young woman rubbed her shin. “Just grazed me, but I hit my kneecap hard on the sidewalk.”
“Same here,” the wiry-haired teen boy said. “That dude sure was in a hurry.”
“It was a man?” Jace asked.
The boy scratched his head. “Not sure. They wore a hoodie. Just assumed a guy.”
Scarlet grimaced. “Same person who tried to strangle me.”
“They were stalking you.” Jace eyed her. “You’re bleeding, and now there’s a bruise.”
Her hand flew to her neck. “I’m fine. Minor wound.”
Sirens wailed in the distance and grew louder as they approached. An ambulance and police cruiser parked alongside the curb in front of them.
Chief Constable Carter hopped from the vehicle. “Allen, you guys okay?”
Jace eased into a standing position. “Minor cuts and bruises, but fine. Attacker tried to strangle Scarlet.”
The chief cussed.
A male and female paramedic unloaded their medical bags from the vehicle.
Jace waved them over. “This is Maya Oliver and Nathan Ellis.”
Nathan knelt beside the woman and the teenager, pulling the strap of his bag off his shoulder. He addressed the boy. “Tell me where you’re hurting.”
“My knee,” the boy said. “Whacked it hard.”
Nathan examined both victims.
Maya inspected Jace’s cuts, letting her hand linger a little too long. “Your wound may need stitches. Let me clean it up and take a closer look.”
Jace winced and pulled his hand back. He despised the woman’s flirty attitude. “Check Scarlet first. I’m good. Someone tried to strangle her.” He wouldn’t let them ignore the constable beside him.
Fifteen minutes later, Maya and Nathan whisked the woman and boy to the hospital. Jace had promised them he and Scarlet would follow to let the doctors look at their injuries closer.
Jace addressed Scarlet. “I need to talk to the chief for a minute. Then we’ll go to the hospital.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to draw the scene.” She sat on the bench and brought out her sketch pad.
He approached Chief Carter. “Can I have a word?”
The older policeman adjusted his hat. “About?”
“Constable Taylor is being rude to Scarlet, and you need to get her to stop. Now.” His words came out harsh, but he intended to make his request heard.
Carter pursed his lips. “She didn’t like that I tasked her to guard Scarlet.”
Jace shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m tired of Taylor’s attitude. We’ve butted heads ever since she came onto the team. I have no idea what I’ve done to warrant her wrath, but Scarlet doesn’t deserve to be treated this way.”
Carter raised his hands in a surrender position. “Don’t take your frustration out on me. Taylor has always been jealous of your policing skills. However, she’s been going through a rough patch lately. Boyfriend dumped her. Cut her some slack.” Carter adjusted his service belt. “Anything you can tell me about the driver?”
Redirection. “No identity or idea whether it was a male or female.” Jace snapped his fingers and opened his notepad. “I just remembered. I memorized the license plate. Hard to say if we’ll get anything from it. Probably stolen.” He jotted it down and passed the paper to Carter.
“I’ll run it and let you know.”
Scarlet approached and handed the chief the recorder the assailant had dropped. She explained what happened. “Maybe there’s something Forensics can get off it.”
“Good work. I’ve got this. Go get checked at the hospital. That’s an order.” Carter walked into the coffee shop.
Jace prayed the license plate or the recorder would at least give them a lead.
They needed one badly. Not only for the women on Vancouver Island, but for the raven-haired beauty with the lost memories. The fact that CLS had almost gotten to her—on Jace’s watch—sent thundered tremors cording his muscles and a thought crashing through his brain.
It was only a matter of time before the Coastline Strangler struck again.
* * *
An hour after getting their cuts checked and stitched, Scarlet mustered up every ounce of strength after the multiple attempts on her life and willed her legs to follow Jace into the police station. The chief had tracked down the F-150’s owner—Ian Miller, the letter carrier. Police had him in custody, but Ian would only speak to Jace. Scarlet noted her college friend’s body language had switched from easygoing to a weakened and agitated state. She guessed the driver’s targeted hit had taken more out of him than he admitted.
Plus, Jace had been shocked at the news of Ian being brought in for questioning, as he shared Ian was a gentle-spoken man and normally drove a Dodge. The pieces didn’t fit.
However, Scarlet’s first impression of Ian contradicted Jace’s assessment. The man had been evasive, as if he was hiding important information or protecting someone.
Chief Constable Carter met them outside the interrogation room. “Not sure why he will only talk to you, Allen. Don’t disappoint me.” The man’s stern voice boomed in the corridor as he walked away.
“Oh boy. Something has him riled.” Jace twisted the doorknob, and they walked into the room.
The letter carrier fiddled with his ball cap. After they entered, he dropped the hat like he’d been burned and rubbed his bald head. Odd. What had him so scared?
Scarlet withdrew her sketch pad and leaned against the wall. Drawing the scene had been a natural action for her earlier, so she would try again. Perhaps it would stimulate her mind to remember something. Anything.
Hopefully.
“Jace, I did nothing wrong. Why am I here?” Ian picked up his hat again and stuffed it onto his head.
Jace took out his notepad. “Do you own a black F-150?”
“I do. Just bought it last week. Why?”
“Where were you two hours ago?” Scarlet asked.
“I’ve been on my mail route.” He glared at Scarlet. “All day.”
“Then who was driving your truck that almost ran us over downtown and hit innocent bystanders?”
Ian yelped and slouched back in his chair. “The last I checked, my F-150 was at the postal depot, where I switched to my mail truck. If it was used to run you down, someone stole it.” He looked away.
Scarlet sketched the man’s face. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Ian slammed his hand down. “I. Did. Not. Do. This. It’s obvious someone is framing me and stole my vehicle to hurt you. Call my boss. He’ll confirm I have been working all day.”
“We will, but why would someone target you?” Jace keyed on his cell phone. “Have you gotten into something illegal?”
Ian’s eyes bulged, and he looked down.
Bingo. Was Jace correct and this man was CLS’s helper?
Scarlet drew the man’s rigid body, bringing their interrogation to life on paper. “Are you helping CLS?”
“Who?”
“The Coastline Strangler.” Jace circled the table. “Ian, CLS is in the news, so there’s no way you’ve never heard of the serial killer who has taken six women’s lives. You’re keeping something from us. What?”
“They’ll find out,” the man whispered. “They’re watching.”
“What are you talking about?” Jace halted and pressed his hands on the table, leaning close to Ian. “We can protect you. Tell me what’s going on.”
Scarlet noted the shift in Ian’s eyes from anxious to forlorn. Something saddened and scared him—or was it someone? She held her breath in anticipation of how he would answer Jace’s question.
The letter carrier bit his lip.
The room silenced.
Ian shifted in his chair. “You have to promise—”
The door opened, and a man dressed in a suit stomped through, slamming his briefcase on the table. He waggled his finger at Ian. “Don’t say another word.”
Ian flinched at the lawyer’s sudden appearance before his gaze moved to Jace, then Scarlet. Sweat beaded his forehead.
The counselor’s presence frightened Ian.
Why?
Jace stood beside the man, his nose crinkled in disgust. Jace’s six-one frame shrank in comparison to the lawyer’s towering stature. “Brody Kellogg. Who called you here? I thought you only represented business clients.”
What was this man’s story that hardened Jace’s expression? Scarlet once again let her pencil fly across the page, sketching Ian’s counsel. She wanted to capture everything.
“None of your concern, Constable Allen. Unless you’re charging him, I’m taking my client with me.” A pause. “Are you?”
Jace retreated and gestured for Ian to follow his lawyer. “You’re free to go, but don’t leave town. We’re not done with you.”
Ian hesitated, once again gnawing his lip. He stood slowly but kept his distance. The man’s repelled body movements toward his supposed defender revealed more than words.
The overpowering Brody Kellogg scared him and, obviously, the letter carrier didn’t want to leave with him.
Jace moved to the doorway. “Ian, remember what we said, okay?”
Brody seized Ian’s arm but kept his gaze focused on Jace. “Stay away from my client if you know what’s good for you. Or else.”
Jace matched the man’s stance. “Are you threatening a police officer, Counselor?”
Brody’s eyes flashed fire. “Take it how you want.” He hauled Ian from the room.
“What was that all about?” Scarlet asked. “You two have a history?”
“You could say that. Went to high school together. He’s the mayor’s son and has gotten away with everything his entire life.” Jace rubbed his forehead. “He assaulted a female classmate, but when I convinced her to charge him, his politician father stepped in and the police backed down. He’s never forgotten that, and we butt heads constantly.”
“How does this all tie to CLS?” Scarlet closed her sketchbook. “It’s obvious Ian is scared about something. What?”
“All good questions.” Jace glanced at his watch. “It’s the end of my shift, and you need rest after today’s events. Let’s pick this up tomorrow. Maybe it will make sense then.”
Scarlet gathered her portfolio bag and followed Jace from the room.
Chief Carter greeted them in the corridor. “Sorry about Brody. He blindsided me with all his legal mumbo jumbo. Got your text and called Miller’s boss. He confirmed Ian checked in with him at the same time as the truck tried to run you down. Also, he walked out to the parking lot. Miller’s truck is gone, and there’s glass on the pavement.”
“Someone stole it. Why didn’t anyone hear that?” Jace asked.
“Lots of noise inside a place of business. Printers, mail-sorting machines, air conditioners, people on phones.” He turned to Scarlet. “Any recollections of CLS’s face?”
Her shoulders slumped, anticipating the man’s disappointment. Getting on his good side was vital, and remembering CLS would definitely accomplish the task. “None. I’m sorry.”
“I’m confident they will return when you least expect them.” The chief’s cell phone buzzed, and he checked his screen. “Lewis reporting they found the truck torched outside Coral Bay. Forensics will do a thorough sweep, but it’s doubtful they’ll find anything. See you both in the morning. 0800 hours. Your sister will give us her profile.” He walked away.
“Supper at my place?” Jace asked. “Charlie’s been asking for you.”
The idea of spending more time with him and his sweet son piqued her interest, but her weary body only wanted rest and solitude tonight. She rubbed her neck. It had been a long day. Plus, she wanted to reflect. Perhaps that would help her remember everything she’d forgotten.
