Grave Christmas Secrets, page 6
The pain of losing his stepsister drove a spear through his heart.
He’d failed again.
* * *
Taya’s heart wrenched at Keegan’s brokenness. He’d shed no tears, never uttered laments, yet his sorrow was evident. She couldn’t help but wonder, had Patrice been more than a coworker and friend? Had they been romantically involved?
She paused, conflicted as her normal air of suspicion shifted to compassion for the distraught man kneeling beside Patrice’s empty grave. Leonardo da Vinci’s quote sprang to mind and she mouthed the words, The deeper the feeling, the greater the pain.
Taya’s disdain for injustice squelched what remained of her disbelief in Keegan’s real identity. Would the loss of a DEA agent devastate a criminal? The sudden urge to defend him and recover Patrice’s body rose within her. They had the same mission. And the same enemies.
The bright LED lights advertised their location. They needed to find the card and get out of Ashfall before the criminals returned.
She placed her hand on Keegan’s shoulder and spoke softly, loath to interrupt his mourning. “Keegan. We should begin searching.”
He jerked to look at her.
“What if Skull stole the body?”
Keegan shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible but since Skull and I weren’t aware of the remains, I doubt it.”
“Right. I guess we should begin searching for the card, then.” She stepped over to the lamp and lifted it. The light fluctuated, consuming the grave in darkness again.
Keegan trekked beside her in preoccupied, robotic steps, ascending the path to her Minnie Winnie.
With a last glance over her shoulder, she pulled open the door hanging by one hinge and stepped inside. The mess halted Taya in place and sucked the air from her lungs. She lingered at the top of the step well.
He leaned around her. “Taya, I’m so sorry.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” She hoped her forced nonchalance concealed her distress.
Her gaze roamed the disarray. Every cabinet stood open, and her laptop lay on the floor in scattered, small, irreparable pieces. Someone had ripped all the bedding from the mattress. They’d demolished her camera and shattered the screen. Mixed emotions swirled as she knelt and gathered the device. The perpetrators had removed her SIM card, and it lay broken beneath the camera. All of the crime scene photos destroyed. Gratitude for removing Patrice’s SIM card—though it was missing now—helped with the shock of the devastation.
Did the person who’d done this know about the video? Focusing on the dinette, she searched for where Patrice’s butterfly ring had been earlier.
Gone.
Had the intruders taken it?
Taya stepped over the debris, renewed by the mission. She ducked under the dinette, beckoned by the shimmer of silver. “Aha!” She snagged the plastic bag and backed out in an awkward crawl. “Not yet.”
Keegan helped her stand, and she passed him the evidence bag containing Patrice’s ring. “Where was it?”
“Wedged in the far corner between the base of the floor and the seat. It fell off the table when I tried to grab it earlier. Whoever did this damage must have missed it.”
He inspected the contents, then pocketed the bag in his coat.
Taya shook her head and held out her hand. “You can’t keep that.”
“Just for now.”
She relented and retrieved a flashlight from the floor beside the kitchen counter. “Let’s find the card.”
A fresh gust of wind met them outside, forcing Taya to zip up her parka while Keegan jogged to his SUV. He emerged, holding a flashlight. Together they used the grid pattern common to law enforcement, moving in synchronization and methodically scanning the ground from left to right.
“The card is bronze but it’s contained in a small plastic case so it might blend in with the dirt,” she advised, undeterred by the weather elements. “Please God. Please God.” The mantra propelled her down the hill toward the grave.
The deep rumble of Keegan’s whispers drew her attention and she studied him but dared not interrupt. He prayed, too?
Lord, bring justice for Patrice or whoever was buried here. Taya surveyed the area and a fresh rush of anger coursed through her at the crude disruption. The gaping hole ripped wide spoke of a quick excavation with no respect to the person or the evidence they’d destroyed. She peered inside and an object caught her attention. Taya knelt and dug out the partially exposed bullet casing.
“What’d you find?” Keegan dropped beside her.
She held up the casing and his jaw tightened.
“They shot her?”
“Yes,” she said, omitting details in a compassionate effort to cushion news. She’d not officially confirmed a gunshot wound as the cause of death, but that was the awful reality. As a law enforcement professional, he’d piece it together, though nothing lessened the hurt regarding the crucial evidence.
“Why steal the body and leave the casing?” Keegan asked.
Taya sighed, conceding to give him more information. “I don’t believe the thief realized it remained lodged inside the skull.”
Keegan winced. “I’ll get it to the ATF ballistics lab when we meet with Hawk.”
She nodded and pocketed the casing. “Allow me to log the evidence first,” she reminded him.
“Right.”
Taya closed her eyes for a two-minute reprieve, battling exhaustion as she entered her twenty-fourth hour of being awake. The mini respite helped, and she appreciated Keegan watching over her. There was comfort in his protective presence, though she’d not admit it to anyone, especially him.
She focused again on the scene and scanned the area with her flashlight, illuminating a footprint.
“Find something?” Keegan asked.
“Give me a second. Keep searching.”
Without waiting for his response, she scoured the earth, excitement building, as she made her way up the hill, then back to Keegan.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“See this?” She pointed to the first footprint.
“Yeah...”
“I inspected the grounds, paying special attention to places marked by the impressions of footwear. I’ve discovered five shoe imprints.”
“Indicating five different people.”
“Exactly. However, we need to factor in our own footprints.”
Keegan stepped to the side and she knelt, studying his impression.
“See here? Your boots leave linear wiggly marks, which eliminates you from the group. Mine are smaller. Notice the triangular pattern in the center?” She pointed to the dirt. “I also walk on the balls of my feet.”
“That’s solid evidence of three other intruders on the grounds.”
“Right. One of which includes Officer Folze.”
“The devastation inside your motor home resulted from a struggle. Folze could’ve scared off the intruders.”
Taya guffawed and stood, meeting his eyes. “I think the greater likelihood is Officer Folze arrived, saw I was gone and assumed I left for the weekend. He pushed me to go home, whining about his holiday plans. He doesn’t understand how exhumations work.”
Keegan faced the motor home. “But he couldn’t have ignored the mess. And if he showed up when Skull was unconscious, why didn’t he call it in? Or arrest Skull?”
Taya grunted. “From the little I know about Officer Folze, he doesn’t strike me as an incognito warrior. Furthermore, he doesn’t relish hard work. If he arrived here after my motor home’s decimation, he most likely fled in fear. Plus, in his laziness, he wouldn’t want to fill out an incident report.”
“Well, that explains a lot. Just a guess here, but I take it you don’t have a favorable view of Officer Folze?”
She shrugged. “His behavior is nothing if not consistent in our interactions. Even if I’ve judged him incorrectly, he’d be in trouble for leaving the site unsecured.”
“Good point.”
Taya knelt beside a boot impression. “Based on the depth and size, I’d say this belongs to Folze. He’s a large man and I recall him wearing cowboy boots.”
She paused and studied Keegan’s response. Was she stating the obvious? Did he view her assessment as an insult or an attempt at flaunting her knowledge? No. He’d learned these factors in his academy training. He didn’t appear offended and he didn’t stop her.
Was it possible he valued her opinion? That would be a new development.
“What else?”
“Unfortunately, the impressions end here because the ground slopes into long grass and small patches of cracked and frozen snow.”
Scanning the grave, she felt her heart sink again. She stood and continued toward the valley.
“I’m not sure it’s safe for us to—”
“We’re not done looking,” Taya interrupted, resuming the same careful grid pattern across the frozen land to where they’d driven off in Skull’s car earlier.
Neither spoke as they trekked back toward the motor home and Taya’s determination waned. The card was gone. Either discovered, stolen or buried under careless footprints. She leaned against the Winnebago. “It didn’t disappear. Did the intruders know about the video?”
Keegan turned off his flashlight. “Where’d you say you found it?”
“Near the thoracic vertebrae.”
He quirked a brow.
“Sorry, near her ribs,” Taya clarified. “She’d hidden the card in a balloon and swallowed it.”
Keegan nodded. “Latex doesn’t break down with stomach acids so she’d knew it’d be safe there.”
“Exactly. Whoever did this might’ve stumbled upon the card I’d dropped out here. If they watched the footage, even the small portion I viewed, they’d know her real identity.”
“Or the killer’s identity.” Keegan turned and faced her. “Let’s check inside once more. Maybe you lost it when I tried to pull you through the window.”
She led the way into the Winnebago, moving straight to the sleeping quarters where he’d shattered her window. Her foot crunched on something. She knelt and lifted her phone lying beside a chunk of broken glass. “Found my cell.”
“Does it still work?”
Taya held it up for him. “Doubtful. They smashed it beyond repair.” She dropped the device on the bed and moved to gather an evidence bag for the bullet casing. She logged and pocketed it. “What do we do now?”
Keegan shook his head and swiped a hand over the back of his neck. Palming his cell phone, he glanced down. “Pray.”
“Okay.”
Trepidation hung in his next words. “I have to report the theft of the body to Hawkins and deal with the consequences.”
FIVE
Keegan’s finger hovered over Hawk’s contact icon.
“I’ll keep looking while you make your call,” Taya said, slipping out the door.
Doubtful she’d find anything, but her unrelenting attitude was admirable. He moved to the doorway, keeping Taya in his visual and did what he dreaded most.
Hawk answered on the second ring. “Stryker.”
“Sir, we have a major problem.”
“Yes, we do.” His CO’s voice was thick with a no-nonsense edge.
Keegan rushed on. “We’re at Ashfall. Someone stole the body. Please question Skull to see if he did it.”
Hawk spouted a creative word that would’ve sent Grandma Stryker reaching for a bar of soap. “I thought you said the game and parks officer provided twenty-four-hour security.”
“Apparently, Gunner Folze has fallen short on the job. Or he’s missing, too.”
“Fantastic. This night just keeps getting better.”
Keegan paused, confused. “Sir?”
“My contact discovered Skull in the bathroom as you said.”
Keegan exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “That’s the first good news I’ve heard—”
“Dead.”
“What?” Keegan pressed the phone tighter against his ear. His eyes remained on Taya actively searching the grounds.
“DOA. Hog-tied with a single gunshot wound to the back of the head. Execution style. I don’t have to explain why that’s a problem, Stryker.”
Keegan paced in front of the Winnebago door, never losing visual of Taya. “Whoa. No way. I never hog-tied Skull. I told you, I knocked him out, restrained and locked him in the bathroom. If I’d shot him, I would’ve said so. He was alive and unconscious when we left.”
“Did you fire your weapon?”
Keegan squeezed the skin at the base of his head, replaying the events in his mind. “Yes, but only to create the bullet hole in Taya’s clothing for the sake of the picture. Skull fired several shots at us, though.”
“Then they’ll find GSR on his person.”
Gunshot residue. And on mine. “Why would someone kill him?”
Did Skull’s phone send the pictures and text message even after he had destroyed it? Did Brando know they’d faked her death? If so, how? The deceit placed Keegan on Brando’s kill list. If the traffickers were onto him, he was a dead man. But if the pictures didn’t send, there was only one way to know for sure. The meeting was his last chance to identify Brando.
Hawk continued, interrupting Keegan’s thoughts. “I don’t doubt you, but this is a huge problem. You know the procedures. Surrender your firearm for ballistics testing and come in for questioning. The evidence doesn’t lie.”
The same thing he’d said about the evidence against Patrice. But sometimes, evidence did lie.
Keegan ran his hand over his hair and paced a deeper path in front of the lingering Winnebago door.
“Stryker, the evidence isn’t in your favor. A self-defense shot is justifiable but an execution-style murder...not so much.”
“Why do I need a defense? I’m telling you, I left Skull alive and unconscious.” Keegan mentally inventoried the last couple of hours. Hadn’t he grabbed all of his guns before leaving the safe house? Hadn’t he grabbed Skull’s 1911, too?
He rushed to his SUV, throwing open the rear door and searching for the weapons. “Sir, I have all my firearms and Skull’s.”
“They found the murder weapon at the scene. If your fingerprints are on it—”
“Anything they found was planted by the killer.”
“Stryker, we’ll sort out the details later.”
“I didn’t do it!”
Taya spun to look at him, eyes wide. He held up his hand so she wouldn’t rush back to him.
Once he submitted to questioning, she’d be an open target. Even if they put her into protective custody, Brando would never stop hunting her. He had to finish this for both their sakes. “Let me meet with Brando first.”
Hawk sighed into the phone. “Turn yourself in or I’m coming for you.”
“I’m only asking for a little more time. Brando’s trying to frame me or flush me out.”
“Then you’d best stay under the radar. You’ve got one day.”
Keegan understood. Hawk had to arrest him. “I’ll keep Dr. McGill safe until after the meeting.” He’d find a way, whatever it took.
“Do you want Dr. McGill’s blood on your hands? You can’t keep her with you. It’s too risky.”
“You’re right. I’ll handle it.” Just not the way you want. Keegan had no intention of passing Taya off to someone else, and he didn’t have time to argue with Hawk.
“Good. We never had this conversation.”
“Yes, sir.” Keegan walked toward Taya.
“Get out of there. If the thieves return, you can’t risk Dr. McGill’s safety.”
“Affirmative.” Should he tell Hawk about the video?
As if he heard Keegan’s internal question, Hawk asked, “What lead are you following?”
Keegan neared the emptied grave site where the tarp flapped wildly. He glanced down, enraged. Until he had more information, he wouldn’t release the details about the card. “I thought we might find an answer to why Brando wants McGill dead. Maybe something about the body’s identification, but I didn’t find anything helpful.” No lie there.
“Make the best use of the time you’ve got left. At the moment, your alias, Raptor, is the prime suspect in Skull’s murder.”
Keegan faced an impossible choice. Normal department protocol required he undergo an internal investigation to prove the shot was necessary. No execution-style kill was justified, which meant disciplinary action and possible jail time. If he remained undercover, he’d be charged as an ex-con with a parole violation and incarcerated to keep in character with his role. Either way, they’d remove him from the case and he’d lose the opportunity to identify Brando. Worse, he’d never find Patrice’s killer. “I understand.” The only words he could form.
Hawk disconnected.
Keegan studied the cavernous hole beside him. How many times could he fail Patrice?
In life.
In death.
Taya touched his arm. “Did your boss take care of Skull?”
“He didn’t get the opportunity.”
Her eyes widened, and she frantically looked around. “He got away?” She surveyed the countryside past Keegan, no doubt fearful she’d spot the tattooed criminal storming them any second. No worries there.
“Worse. Hawkins found Skull—”
“Oh, that’s good news.” Her shoulders relaxed.
“—dead.”
Taya gasped. “But I saw you. You rendered him unconscious. Didn’t you? You didn’t kill him. He was alive, correct? Or did you—”
Keegan shook his head. “I only knocked him out, but he had a fatal gunshot wound when Hawk found him.”
She blinked several times. “You never fired your pistol!”
