A Trail of Vengeance, page 12
“What is it? What’s there?”
Courtney rose to her feet and staggered back to Jess. “Let’s get out of here now!” They were both on their feet. Courtney grabbed Jess with both hands on her shoulder. Her face was white as a sheet, her eyes wide open in distress. “There’s a body there, Jess. A dead woman. I think she was shot in the head. She was …. she looked like she was decomposing.”
“Oh my God Court! What are we going to do?”
“C’mon, let’s get back to the trail first, get away from that stench.” The two hiked back to the trail where they had first departed. They looked around — the forest lay as quiet as could be. Only a few songbirds could be heard. “That was the grossest thing I have ever seen in my life! I hope I never see anything like it again.”
“Well, thanks for not sharing.” Jessica tried to insert some humor to lighten the mood. Courtney wasn’t biting. “Kinda puts a damper on our little interlude.” Jessica still tried to lighten the mood.
“Believe me Jess. If you had seen what I saw, you’d be in no mood for sex.”
“Well, I’m not anymore. We need to call the police about this, don’t we?”
“We will, but I don’t want to deal with this tonight. Besides, by the time we could reach them and get back to the body, it will be after dark. And then they’ll probably want to take us to the station for a statement. Let’s just go back to the apartment and get drunk. That body isn’t going anywhere tonight. We’ll deal with it in the morning.”
******
At a quarter before noon the next morning, Ron received a call from the CPD. He perked up when he saw the number coming from Lieutenant Scott Pilson’s cell number. That usually meant a new tip or lead had been discovered.
“Scott, how the hell are you? I’m hoping you have something juicy for me this morning.”
“Morning Ron. It’s juicy alright. Juicy, and fermented, and decomposed. I think we have one of your OMP’s in the woods out here by the Little Miami.”
Ron jumped at the news and grabbed his pen and notepad. OMP stood for Open Missing Person. Immediately, Ron thought Josh and Missy had been found. “I’m all ears Scott. Who do you have?”
“It looks like we found a Shannon Dunlop.” Ron thought his eyes might literally pop out of his head. “Gunshot wound to the head. Appears to be self-inflicted. We have her wallet with ID, credit cards, and her cell phone.
Ron was thunderstruck. Shannon? Dead in the woods? Here in town? How could that be? “I’m floored Scott, she wasn’t who I expected to hear about. Let me know where you are — I’ll head straight over.”
“Bring your hiking shoes Ron. We’re about a mile into the woods here. Only access is the Little Miami trail. You know where the trailhead is, out on Highway 50, just past the brewery?”
Ron wasn’t big on hiking and didn’t exactly relish a mile-long hike with the temperature near eighty today. But finding one of my OMP’s! And Shannon! How in the hell? “Can’t say I’ve been there before Scott.”
“Take 50 east. About a quarter mile past the Fifty West Brewing Company, you’ll see a small parking lot on your right. I’ll have one my deputies meet you there. Like I said, it’s about a mile up the trail to the body. The young ladies who found her are here too.”
“Fantastic Scott. I’m on my way.”
******
One hour later, Ron approached the crime scene, sweating profusely. He didn’t have hiking shoes, didn’t even know what they were. His idea of a hike was climbing the flight of stairs to his desk at the precinct. He drove straight over to the park after his call with Scott and found the trailhead readily. That was the easy part. Walking the mile on the trail in his Dockersiders, khakis, and long sleeve button-down shirt took a great deal more effort. At least he left his tie and jacket in the car. As he approached the scene and saw Scott up ahead, Ron breathed some relief. The ‘about a mile’ felt more like five. The thought of having to do the same in reverse wasn’t particularly welcoming. He put the physical discomfort out of his mind. This would definitely be worth it. Ron smiled as he shook Scott’s hand.
“Sorry you had to get an extra dose of exercise today Ron. Body is off the trail about seventy-five yards this way.”
“No problem at all Scott. No problem at all,” Ron lied. Now he had to walk up a hill and off the trail! His curiosity burned in him. At about forty yards from the yellow tape surrounding a large oak tree, he began to smell the body. Ron took out the mask he knew he would need for the occasion and put it on. Didn’t help that he was already breathing hard. Scott accompanied him to the sight where he was introduced to the two ladies who discovered the body and the deputy who arrived first to the scene.
“Ron, this is Deputy Wilson, first officer on the scene. And these young ladies are Jessica Davis and Courtney Walters. Courtney is the one who made the discovery.” Ron shook their hands and introduced himself. The girls were dressed in shorts and looked a lot more physically comfortable than he was. Their emotional disposition, however, was a different story. They both looked like they wished they were anywhere else but there.
“Courtney, I’ll have a few questions for you after I inspect the scene. Then you’ll be free to go. I’m sure this has been traumatic for you both.”
“Yes sir it has,” replied Courtney. She had her arm around Jess and was holding her tight to her side.
Ron moved on to the oak tree and looked at the dead woman. Significant decay had already occurred. At first take, it wasn’t evident if she was Shannon or not. “Murrey,” Ron asked Murrey Wiseman, the city’s Medical Examiner, “what do you have so far?”
“Cause of death appears to be a single point-blank gunshot wound to the side of the head. Could be suicide or murder execution style. I’m estimating time of death in the six-to-eight-week range. I’ll narrow it down after autopsy.”
“Thanks, that’s what I was predicting. Mrs. Dunlop disappeared on March 30, so that’s five and a half weeks ago from today.” Ron pulled out the photo he had of Shannon and showed it to Murrey. “What do you think? This her?”
“Let me see.” Murrey took the picture and knelt down next to the body. Meanwhile, Ron examined the other evidence. The .38 Special was still in the right hand of the victim. Unusual in suicides, but not unheard of in Ron’s experience. Of course, it could also have been easily placed there. Then there was the purse. Ron looked up at Scott, and the deputy anticipated his question.
“Ron, the purse hasn’t been moved. All we did was reach in and remove the wallet. Everything else is exactly as it was found.” The purse still hung over the victim’s shoulder. That’s strange, thought Ron, why would someone kill themselves with their purse still on their shoulder? The victim wore jeans and a sweater, some jewelry — a necklace, couple of rings, including a wedding ring. Ron remembered seeing a framed wedding photo of Josh and Shannon in their house. Should be able to see if the ring matched the one in the picture. Clothes seemed to match the style Shannon wore based on what he remembered seeing in her closet.
“Let me take a look at the wallet,” Ron directed Scott. It was Shannon’s alright. Ohio Driver’s license, Visa and Master Card in her name. Twenty-five dollars in cash. Various other credit cards and insurance cards, all in Shannon’s name. Ron looked back at the Medical Examiner. “Well, Murrey, what do you think?”
Murrey stood up and gave the photo back to Ron. “To be honest with you Ron, it may be her, and it may not be. Height and weight seem to be close. What does it say on the driver’s license?”
“Five foot five, 105 pounds. Hair black, eyes green.”
“I’d put the height and weight dead close. Hair is obviously black and is a close match in length and style. Green eyes would have been a good clue — a very rare combination, but the squirrels and birds feasted on them some time ago. It’s the facial structure that has me a little off. It’s close, but the victim’s cheeks seem a little lower and jaw a little squarer than Mrs. Dunlop’s. Again, I’ll get a better idea during the autopsy. But DNA is going to be your best shot in this case.”
“I agree Murrey, thanks and I’ll look forward to your report.”
“Should have it by the end of the week.”
Ron turned back to Scott. “I think I’m done here Scott. Get our victim to autopsy and bag all the evidence. I’m going to put in an expedited request to the lab for the DNA analysis. They owe me one.”
“Do you have a family member to match?” Scott asked the Detective.
Ron smiled, “I do, and I intend to secure one by the end of the day.” He turned and walked back to the two coeds.
“Ladies, I know you’ve already given your statement to the deputy, so forgive me if I ask the same questions. It’s standard procedure. Tell me again why you were here and how you found the body.”
Jess and Court looked at each other tentatively. Courtney would be the one to answer, as usual. “Like I told the officer over there, we were out for a hike yesterday after a couple of beers at the brewery down the street. We smelled something bad, so I decided to check it out. Jess stayed on the trail. When I saw the body I kind of freaked out. Jess never saw it. I didn’t call yesterday because it was already after five when we found it and there’s no cell service out here. I figured by the time we walked back, called, and waited for the police to arrive, it would be after dark. Besides which, we were pretty freaked out at the time.”
“I bet you were,” replied Ron with whatever empathy he could muster. “But I’m confused about one part of your statement. You claimed you smelled the body from the trail. But, when I came up I didn’t detect an odor until maybe thirty yards from here. That’s still well off the trail. You sure you weren’t off the trail when you smelled the body?” Jess and Court looked again at each other; this time Ron detected real anxiety, especially with Jess. He waited patiently for an answer. Jessica gave Courtney a look that implied ‘go ahead’. Court shook her head slightly. Ron knew what was going on, but he needed them to say it themselves. “Look, I can let you girls go right now if you level with me. Or I can take you down to the station for a more formal statement if I think you’re hiding something. So, what’s it going to be?”
Courtney’s expression changed from resistance to resignation upon hearing this news. “Look Detective. You’re right. I didn’t smell it from the trail. Jess and I went off the trail for some privacy, OK? Do you understand what I’m telling you? We were going to lay down in that grassy area over there. That’s when I smelled the body. OK? Just two horny lesbians. Is that what you’re going to put in your report?” Courtney’s face turned red, from embarrassment, or exasperation — Ron couldn’t tell. But he’d heard what he needed to.
“No Miss Walters, I am not. But I did need to hear the truth. You two are both free to go. If we need anything else, we’ll be in touch. Thank you again for coming forward.”
Courtney grabbed Jessica’s hand and turned their backs on Ron. “Come on Jess, you heard the detective. Let’s get out of here.” The two quickly disappeared back to the trail.
******
The hike back to the trailhead was worse than the hike in — much worse. Ron cursed himself for not stopping at the house to change before heading over, for drinking too much, for smoking way too much, and for the general carelessness he paid to his physical condition. By the time he reached his car, he was soaked through and through. His feet hurt, his legs ached, and his lungs begged for mercy. And he cursed Shannon. Whether she was dead in the woods, and sending him on a wild goose chase, or if she wasn’t dead, and had killed someone who had more than a mild resemblance to her, he was going to get answers one way or another — and soon.
Ron called Shannon’s dad and told him he needed to see him as soon as possible — today. He made his way home, showered, changed, downed three Extra Strength Tylenol, then headed straight out the door to Dayton. He last talked to Douglas a week ago. A routine check in. He hadn’t seen Shannon’s father since the initial meeting three and a half weeks ago. On the phone, Douglas sounded eager to hear what new information the detective had to share. He was alone when Ron rang the choral sounding door chime and graciously invited him in.
“Coffee with sugar only, if I remember correctly Detective?” Douglas asked his guest.
“Yes, please. Thank you.” Ron recalled the blend he was served last month. It tasted exceptionally good, compared with the swill they made at the station. “What kind of coffee was it you served me the last visit? It was really good.”
“It’s a special roast I import from Costa Rica and grind in the Bunn. I only drink coffee at its freshest,” Douglas answered with more than a little glibness. Of course, thought Ron, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Douglas brought Ron his sweetened cup and his own mug of black coffee and they sat down in his lavish living room.
“So, tell me Detective, what news do you have about my daughter to bring you out here on this fine afternoon? I cut short my golf round today after receiving your call.”
Ron went straight to the point. “Mr. McKay, as you know, your daughter Shannon and her husband have been missing for almost six weeks now. Last week I received information that her car had been sold in Knoxville, Tennessee on April 1, two days after Shannon and Josh were last seen.” Ron examined Douglas’s face for any reaction. He didn’t see any. “The man who bought Shannon’s Nissan Altima paid cash. Then she bought a late model Mercedes C300 that same day. We assumed it was Shannon who made the transaction, until earlier today.” Ron paused for effect and took another sip of coffee. Douglas’s face intensely focused on him. “This morning I received news that a deceased woman matching Shannon’s description was found in the woods out by the Little Miami River Park, east of Cincinnati. She had been shot in the head. I hiked out there earlier today, about a mile from the trail head. Our Medical Examiner estimated the date of death to be six to eight weeks ago. It was made to look like a suicide, but it’s not conclusive. Point is Mr. McKay, Shannon’s purse was found on the body, along with her wallet, and identification.” Ron stopped there. Douglas shook his head in bewilderment.
“I’m not following you Detective. First you say my daughter sold her car and bought another one in Tennessee. Then you tell me she may be dead from a gunshot wound, in the woods outside Cincinnati. So, which is it?”
“At this point sir, we don’t know.” Ron proceeded to share further details of what he knew about the auto transactions and the deceased woman, currently being filed as a Jane Doe in the Cincinnati morgue. He purposely left out, for the time being, any mention of Missy Tiegen and her relationship with Josh Dunlop. He’d save that card for later. Douglas listened to Ron’s story intently. Ron finished his brief. “The point is, Mr. McKay, with Shannon’s husband still missing, things do not look good for her. I have two possible theories. First, your daughter is dead from either suicide or murder and someone resembling her took her car to Knoxville. Or she is a possible suspect in the murder of an unknown women, made to look like a suicide, and is on the run as we speak.”
At that point Douglas became visibly upset. He rose and paced the living room floor. “Detective Dempsey, whatever has happened, I can assure you my daughter is no murderer. Shannon has had a difficult life, and has had her share of struggles, like any young person this day and age. But to suggest she is involved in a murder is preposterous. I suggest you look somewhere else for a suspect — like perhaps finding that husband of hers. Where is he?”
Ron again tossed around the wisdom of sharing with this man what he knew of Shannon’s husband. How he had been detected setting out on a romantic rendezvous with a sixteen-year-old girl the day he disappeared. And how he had been tailed by someone driving his daughter’s car. Sit on it, just sit on it. “We don’t know sir. We simply do not know. Look, Mr. McKay, I am not drawing any conclusions at this point. For all I know Shannon or Josh could show up at any point in time with a logical explanation. The girl in the woods could simply be a suicide by someone we may never know. But first and foremost we need to know if she is your daughter. That’s the reason I’m here today. To collect a DNA sample from you.”
“Yes, yes of course,” now Douglas realized the real intent of Ron’s visit. “That makes perfect sense. I’m sorry I jumped on you Detective. This is all quite unsettling for me.”
“I understand sir.” Ron replied as he removed the swab test from the sample kit. “I just need a good saliva sample from the inside of your mouth. Then put it into this bag.” Douglas did as instructed, then handed the sealed bag back to Ron. “That’s all I’m going to need today Mr. McKay. I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear from the lab. I have an expedited request on this, so I should hear something perhaps as soon as Wednesday.” Ron proceeded to the front door while Douglas followed him. The man looked dazed and confused.
“Thank you Detective, I’ll be sitting on pins and needles in the meantime.”
Yeah, I bet you will be. “And Mr. McKay — depending on the results, I may be interested in hearing more of what you mentioned earlier — about the struggles Shannon has had in her past. It may be relevant to the case.” The two men stared at each other. Douglas’s expression hardened immediately. Ron tried to decipher McKay’s look. Fear? Defiance? Determination? He couldn’t tell. But he certainly looked like he didn’t want that can of worms opened.
“Of course Detective. Of course,” Douglas said tersely. Ron walked out the front door, which closed quickly behind him.
CHAPTER 10
On Tuesday, Ron itched for more progress on his OMP’s, but it became apparent by midafternoon nothing was going to break that day. Any hope of getting the Jane Doe DNA results today were extinguished when his third call to the lab ended with a ‘Don’t Call Us, We’ll Call You’ final statement. Ron apologized for his impatience and reminded himself not to burn crucial bridges. Maybe tomorrow — maybe, was how they left it. He received another dead end when Jane Doe’s fingerprints did not match any in the national database. It was a long shot, plus, he was fairly sure Shannon didn’t have a record where her prints would be on file. He made a call to Lampton, checking in to make sure they hadn’t heard from Josh — they hadn’t, but Calvin was definitely surprised to hear about Shannon’s possible suicide.
