Cold Justice (14 page)

He watched as Matty and Kyle kicked around a soccer ball on
the lawn. Matty was showing Kyle how to do a Hip Fake, a deft little move that
always seemed to fool his opponent. They practiced until Kyle had it right.

Jake was proud of Matty. He seemed to be pretty adept at
most sports. He took to it naturally, just like his father. Jake had been
mainly into football, though. His size had made him a formidable opponent. He
tried to pass his football skills on to Matty, but Matty had taken more to
soccer and baseball, and he seemed to be a natural at both.

The boys were tiring out and needed a rest. Matty skillfully
kicked the ball, spinning it through the air, up onto the deck. He followed
behind it, trudging up the steps. Kyle trailed, and they flopped, panting, into
a couple of lawn chairs beside Jake.

“Hey Dad.”

“Hi, Mr. Lincoln.”

“Hi guys,” Jake said, and then to Kyle, “Your footwork is
starting to look pretty good.”

Kyle grinned. “Matty’s a good teacher.”

“Keep at it, and you’ll both be stars.”

The boys laughed. Kyle gave Matty a shove and said, “Matty’s
already a star.”

Matty tapped Kyle playfully on the head. “I’ll make you a
star too. We’ll show everybody how it’s done.”

Jake grinned at them, and then asked, “So guys, how did it
go at school today? Did that Jordan kid give you any more headaches?”

Matty laughed. “I think he learned his lesson Dad. He wouldn’t
come near us today. At lunch break, I saw him standing across the yard with a
couple of other guys, watching Kyle and I, but he stayed plenty far enough
away.”

“Kyle and me.”

“What?”

“Kyle and me. You have to say, Kyle and me. Not Kyle and I.”

Matty gave his father a funny look. “You’re starting to
sound like Mom.”

Jake laughed. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Matty shrugged. “Guess not,” he said, and then, “You know I
had to slug Kevin, right Dad?”

Jake thought a minute before speaking carefully. “Sometimes
there are other ways.”

“Not this time. We tried other ways. We tried to just talk
to him, but sometimes talk isn’t enough. You know what Grandpa says, actions
speak louder than words.”

“Yeah, a lot of people say that,” Jake admitted. “And I
guess it’s true sometimes.”

Jake knew it first hand. In his pre-teen days he had been
fairly small, was picked on at times, and forced to defend himself physically.
He had endured a bit of torture from some of the bigger boys, but as he hit his
teen years, he began to sprout like a weed, and they stopped bothering him. He
didn’t seek revenge on his tormentors, and actually became good friends with a
couple of them eventually.

Jake added, “But just try to do whatever you can to avoid
fighting in the future, ok guys?”

“Sure, Dad. But what if he starts bugging Kyle again, and I’m
not there?” Matty asked.

Kyle looked at Matty. “Don’t worry Matt, I’ll just warn him
I will tell you. He won’t do anything.” Kyle grinned. “He’s scared of you now.”

Matty looked at Kyle, nodded slowly, and said seriously, “Yeah,
I guess you’re right, but I don’t want him to be afraid of me. Just respect us
and leave us alone.”

Jake listened to the wise words from his eight-year-old son
and felt even prouder.

Annie had returned home from her visit with Chrissy. She
stepped out onto the deck, sipping a coffee. “What are you guys talking about?”
she asked.

Jake looked up. “Just asking them how their day was. Matty
said the Jordan kid is staying away from them now.”

Annie looked at the boys. “Just be careful in the future,
ok?”

“Yes, Mom. Dad already lectured us,” Matty said, as he
turned to Kyle and slugged him on the arm. “Come on Kyle, let’s go.” He jumped
up, retrieved the soccer ball, and hit the lawn with a leap. Kyle stopped long
enough to mash a spider, and then was right behind him.

Annie sat in a deck chair and watched the boys for a moment
before turning to Jake. “I’ve been thinking about Philip Macy,” she said. “He
must be going through such a terrible time. First he loses a child, and now his
wife.” She sighed. “What’s the poor man going to do?”

Jake thought of his own family. Of Matty, and Annie. He
couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose them both, or even one of them.
He shook his head slowly and looked at his wife. He could tell she knew his
thoughts, and was probably thinking the same as him. “Yeah,” he said, and
sighed before adding, “It must be rough.”

They were quiet for a moment, each with their own thoughts.
Finally Annie spoke, “We have to find out what happened to Abigail Macy. Philip
needs to know. If he’s left hanging, it will drive him crazy for the rest of
his life.”

“Like they say, he needs closure.” He shrugged. “I don’t
know what on earth closure is. Nothing’s going to bring her back, but at least
he needs to know why, and how.”

“And who,” Annie added.

Jake looked at her and cocked his head.

“Who,” she said. “He needs to know who killed her.”

“Yeah. That’s the big question.”

Jake’s iPhone buzzed. He kept it in a holder on his belt
now. A new purchase he found was a lot easier to use. He slipped it from the
holder.

“Jake here.”

“Jake, it’s Hank. I just got a call. It looks like they
found Vera Blackley. She’s dead. I’m on my way to the scene now. Apparently a
homeless guy found her in a bin behind Proper Shoes.”

Jake whistled and looked at Annie. “It’s Hank. They found
Vera Blackley.” Then he whispered, “Dead.”

Annie leaned forward as Jake put the phone on speaker.

Hank continued, “I haven’t talked to the homeless guy yet. I
thought you might want to be here when I take his statement. You know where
Proper Shoes is, right?”

“Yup, we were just there a couple of hours ago.”

“Go behind the building, in the service area.”

Jake and Annie were standing now.

“We’ll be right there,” Jake said, as he hung up and slipped
the phone back in its holder.

Annie reached out. “I need your phone for a second.”

Jake handed it to her. Annie dialed. One ring. Two.

“Hello?”

“Chrissy, it’s Annie. Can you watch Matty for a while? Jake
and I have a bit of an emergency.”

“Sure. What kind of emergency?”

“Remember I told you about Vera Blackley? They just found
her body.”

“Ohhh. Sounds exciting.”

Annie laughed and scolded her gently. “Chrissy, a woman is
dead.”

“Yeah, I know,” Chrissy said meekly, and then, “Send the
boys over.”

Annie hung up the phone and handed it back. She looked
toward the yard and called, “Matty, come here a minute please.”

Matty gave the ball a final kick across the yard, and ran
toward the deck. “What is it, Mom?”

“Your dad and I have to go out for a while. Can you guys run
next door until we get back? Let Chrissy know you’re there.”

“Sure Mom,” Matty said, as they sprinted across the lawn,
squeezed through the hedge, and ran into the back entrance of the house next
door.

Jake gulped the rest of his coffee and set the cup on the
table. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

Chapter 24

Thursday, August 18th, 5:15 PM

WHEN HANK pulled into the parking lot at the rear of the
building that housed Proper Shoes, the first responders, as well as the crime
scene investigators, had already arrived. He pulled up next to the forensic van
and climbed out. Officers were stretching yellow tape around the area, and
investigators were busy.

A group of four or five bystanders were watching from a
distance, undoubtedly curious.

Hank saw the lead crime scene investigator, Rod Jameson,
standing back a distance from the big green bin that was the center of
attention. He was busy giving orders, making sure the area was secure. Jameson
looked at Hank as he approached and nodded. “Afternoon, Hank.”

“Hey Rod, what can you tell me about this one?” Hank asked.

“The body has been here a while,” Jameson answered. He
pointed over to the side, behind the tape, where a man was sitting on a crate,
watching proceedings. “That’s Sammy Fisher. I asked him to stick around for a
while. He’s the one who discovered the body. You may want to talk to him.”

Hank glanced over briefly and nodded, and then asked, “How
do you know it’s Vera Blackley? Is there some ID on the body?”

“Nope. Apparently, the place wasn’t deserted yet. There were
still a couple of people inside the building, and I showed them a photo of her
face I snapped on my cell. One of them recognized her as Vera Blackley, the
wife of one of the people who works here.” He consulted a clipboard. “Anderson
Blackley, the husband.”

Hank thanked him, and moved in a little closer to the bin.
An unpleasant odor hit him. A police photographer had climbed up onto the bin
and was snapping pictures. Evidence markers had been placed in a few spots
around the bin, marking items that may be of interest.

The medical examiner, Nancy Pietek, had just arrived. Hank
watched as she approached the bin and talked to the photographer who now seemed
to have taken all the pictures he needed. He jumped down and helped her climb
the bin, and she dropped carefully inside.

Hank turned as he heard the rumble of a familiar car
approaching. It was Jake’s Firebird. He grinned as he saw the car. He dipped
under the yellow tape, which officers had finished putting in place, and
approached the vehicle. Jake and Annie climbed out and came toward him.

Jake slapped him on the back. “What’s up, Hank.”

“Hey Jake,” Hank said, and then looked at Annie and smiled
hello, before pointing to the bin. “She’s in there.”

Jake followed his gaze and whistled. “Thrown away, just like
trash.”

The M.E. was being helped from the bin. Jake and Annie
followed Hank as he walked back to the taped off area and motioned her over.

Nancy Pietek gave a wave of recognition and came to where
they were standing. She smiled grimly. “I didn’t expect to see you again so
soon, Hank.”

“Hi Nancy,” he said. “It’s always nice to see you.”

She greeted Jake and Annie and turned back to Hank. “Looks
like she was strangled. The body is almost naked, so there may have been a
rape, or some other sexual abuse involved. I’ll know more after I do a complete
examination, but right now, I’d say the cause of death is definitely asphyxia
caused by strangulation.”

“How long has she been dead?” Hank asked.

Nancy thought a moment. “I’d say about four days at the
most.”

Hank did the math. “That would make it Sunday,” he said, and
then asked, “Any defensive wounds?”

“Sure is. Not hard to see, considering the lack of clothing.
It won’t take me too long to do the report once they get her back to the lab.
Things aren’t so busy right now, fortunately.”

Hank heard the crunching of tires on gravel. He turned and
frowned, and shook his head in disgust as he saw the van for Channel 7 Action
News pull up. The local newspapers and TV stations monitored the police bands,
and were always quick to respond to anything sensational that would boost their
ratings. Channel 7 was the first to arrive.

The van screeched to a quick stop near where they were
standing. The doors opened. The driver jumped out, slipped open the side door,
and in a moment reappeared with a camera. He slung it on his shoulder and
chased after the passenger, a woman, who had already shot from the van and was
heading toward Hank.

Hank knew exactly who she was. Lisa Krunk considered herself
to be a world-class reporter, destined some day to win a Pulitzer. But Hank
knew better. They had had some recent run-ins with her, and he knew her as
someone who would do just about anything to get a story.

“Come on Don,” Lisa Krunk said, beckoning impatiently at the
cameraman.

Don hustled behind her, flicking his camera on. A red light
glowed, and the camera was aimed toward the action around the bin, panning,
zooming, humming.

Nancy saw them coming. She knew Lisa Krunk well, and she
spun around and left in a hurry, back to the crime scene.

Lisa reached Hank and shoved a microphone at him. The camera
swung his way. Lisa said, “Detective Corning, I understand the body of a woman
was found here.” Her extra wide mouth flapped as she continued, “What can you
tell me about this situation?”

The city would see this, so Hank had to hold back his
disdain for Lisa. “We don’t know much at this point,” he said politely, and
pointed toward the bin. “The body of a woman was reported to have been found in
that bin. We don’t know any more, as the investigators are still working the
scene.”

“Do you know who the woman is?”

“Not at this point.” Hank wasn’t about to release the name
of the victim until they were certain who it was, and her husband, Anderson
Blackley, had been notified.

“Was it a murder?”

“We think so, but that hasn’t been determined for certain
yet.”

“Can you tell the viewers anything else?”

“No. Nothing more at this point.”

The microphone was withdrawn, and poked at Annie. The camera
followed. “Annie Lincoln,” Lisa said. “We know you and your husband are private
investigators. Can you tell us why you are here?”

Annie hesitated. “All I can say is this may be related to
something we are currently involved in.”

Lisa Krunk looked down her thin, sharp nose. “Did you know
the victim?”

Annie shook her head. “The victim hasn’t been identified
yet.”

The coroner’s van was backed up close to the bin. The back
doors were open and a gurney was being removed from the vehicle, ready to be
put to use.

Lisa pulled he microphone back and pointed to the bin. Don
swiveled and the camera zoomed to catch the action.