Falling Into Place (12 page)

“Possibly. I can’t be sure without further analysis, but any drug or other chemical would leave traces in the body and the blood. All I can say with certainty is that these disorders were not naturally occurring in her circulatory system. I assume Dr. Mooney didn’t find any hypodermic marks or she would have mentioned it. It’s entirely possible the wound that caused the victim’s death was meant to obscure the injection site.” Dr. Miller turned and saw the pain on Jeff Mancini’s face. For the first time, she softened slightly.

“I apologize, Detective. Caroline told me of your relationship with the deceased. I didn’t mean to upset you.” she said. She took a half step toward him but hesitated and retreated back to her original position. It was almost as if she understood the emotions she was supposed to feel – sympathy or compassion – but couldn’t access them properly. Mancini had never met a more repressed or closed- off woman in his life. He wondered how long she’d been this way and just for a second, he wondered what her smile looked like.

Crawley put his arm around Mancini’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about ol’ Jeff, Doc. He’s made of sterner stuff than that.”

“Yes, it’s fine Dr. Miller,” Jeff said, removing his partner’s arm and walking toward Rebecca. “I appreciate your help in this matter. If you discover anything else, please feel free to call me, day or night. My cell is on the back.” Mancini handed her his business card. “Thank you again.”

His hand lingered on hers as she took the card and their eyes met. “Yes, of course. I will do my best,” she managed to say, but he could see the physical contact was making her agitated and uncomfortable. He quickly broke contact, turned and walked toward the door.

“And if you ever need anyone to heat up your freezer on a dark and lonely night, love... give me a jingle,” Crawley said quietly so his partner wouldn’t hear, putting his card on the counter before jogging to catch up with Mancini.

Dr. Miller stared at the two business cards for a long while. Then she took Crawley’s card and threw it in the trash can. With a small grin, she then placed Detective Mancini’s business card in the left side pocket of her lab coat and gave it a little pat.

At 10:23 p.m. that evening, Emily Sheppard’s car was found less than one hundred yards from where her body had been discovered. Mancini was on his way to Kurt’s house when he got the call. As much as he wanted to check on his friend, this could be the break they were both waiting for, so he headed directly over to the scene. Kevin Crawley, along with the forensics unit, was already there when he arrived.

“Thought you were done for the night!” Crawley shouted from fifty yards away.

“I just heard so I came right over. Which officer found it?” Mancini asked.

“You’re lookin’ at him, buddy,” Crawley replied with a Cheshire-cat grin.

“You?” Mancini said, incredulously. “How the hell did
that
happen?”

“After we split up, I went for a couple of beers, but something stuck in my craw. Why here? Why was her body left here? I couldn’t shake the feeling that the location meant something, so I drove down here to think,” Crawley replied. “You know how I sometimes like to sit at a crime scene and let my subconscious wander; maybe see something I’m missing? Like on the Delgado case?”

“Yeah, you’re a regular mind freak,” Mancini joked.

“Whatever, dude. Well, I drive down here and first thing I see is the car. I run the tags and boom! Emily’s car,” Crawley said, puffing out his chest in victory. “Whoever our perp is, I think he’s playing games. No reason to dump the body and car separately otherwise. At least not in the same fuckin’ place.”

Mancini nodded in agreement before asking, hopefully, “CSU find anything?”

“Let’s find out, partner,” Crawley said.

The Crime Scene Unit was scouring the immediate area looking for any new evidence that might have been left when the car was dumped. Various technicians moved in ever-widening concentric circles from the car wearing their wind breakers and pale blue gloves as Jeff and Kevin crossed over to Emily’s Green Ford Focus. Mancini already knew they were in a dead zone as far as traffic or other cameras, so there’d be no footage of the car dump. As he looked over the car, there didn’t seem to be any exterior damage and no signs of a struggle. The officer in charge, Sasha Montgomery, was going through the trunk when the two homicide detectives reached the car.

Montgomery had worked with the Crime Scene Unit for the past 8 years, ever since graduating from the academy. She is a petite woman, no more than 5’3” with a take-charge attitude and an eye for detail. Sasha was always easy to spot with her short, cropped fiery red hair, large black glasses and wide smile, not to mention her bottom-heavy figure. She always joked about being shaped like a bowling pin, small on top but big on the bottom. What Mancini always noticed was how she frequently changed the jewelry in the 7 piercings adorning her left ear, but always wore the same hoop in the one piercing in her right ear. The detective in him wanted to hear the story behind that, but now was neither the time nor the place. Truth be told, he liked and respected Sasha Montgomery as both a police officer and a human being.

“Anything good, Gum?” Crawley asked, using his own personal nickname for the CSU officer.

“Nothing yet, Creepy,” Sasha responded without looking up, smiling at the use of her own nickname for Crawley. “In fact, this is the cleanest car I’ve ever seen.”

“Emily
was
something of a neat freak, Montgomery,” Mancini offered.

Sasha Montgomery looked up from the trunk. “Not tidy, Jeff. Clean. No particulates, no fingerprints, no DNA. There is no evidence of any kind in this vehicle,” she said, exasperated.

“How is that possible?” Mancini asked.

“It’s like someone knew exactly how to get rid of every piece of forensic evidence. It’s uncanny,” Montgomery countered. “But don’t worry. No one can hide everything from me. I’ve yet to roll up my sleeves and dig deep. Once I get this car back to the lab, I’ll go over it with the finest of fine tooth combs. We’ll nail this bastard.” She placed her hand on Mancini’s shoulder for emphasis.

“Thanks, Sasha. I know you’ll do what you can,” Jeff said.

After a few hours assisting the Crime Scene Unit, and despite his growing exhaustion, Jeff Mancini headed back to his original destination for the evening: the home of Kurt Sheppard. The detective knew he was pushing himself too hard and eventually the lack of sleep would catch up with him. He hoped to bring Emily’s killer to justice before it became a problem, because whenever he thought about sleep, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down, choosing to go over the case one more time instead. Still, he understood that his growing exhaustion, the grief he was compartmentalizing and the conflicting emotions coursing through his mind were a bad combination. Sooner or later, he’d get sloppy, start making mistakes, and pay the price.

As he approached his destination, the fatigued officer spotted someone near the side door of the Sheppard home. He caught a glimpse of a white shirt or nightgown before it disappeared behind a tree. Instinctively, Jeff turned off his lights and engine so he could silently coast to a stop before the hedges that separated his friend’s house from its neighbor. He was out of his car in an instant, drawing his weapon and freeing the mini flashlight from its compartment on his belt without turning it on. It was a cloudy night with no moonlight to illuminate the grounds, so his visibility was sorely limited. Silently, he approached the side of the house, stopping every 3 or 4 steps to strain his hearing for any signs of trespassers. Suddenly, the detective spotted something in his peripheral vision and spun toward it, turning on the flashlight at the same time.

“Whoa! What the hell!” Kurt Sheppard screamed, jumping back as he shielded his eyes with his arms.

“Kurt! Geez, man! You scared the shit out of me!” Mancini said in a quiet voice, turning off the flashlight and lowering his weapon. “I thought there was someone out here when I pulled up. I was just taking a look around. Let me check it out. Stay behind me.”

Kurt fell in behind the police detective as he headed toward the backyard. They both strained their eyes against the darkness, searching for any sign of an intruder. Just as they got past the side entrance, the wind whipped up and Jeff saw something to his left. Once again, he switched on the light as he whirled to face his attacker. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. He began to laugh. It was a white bed sheet, caught on the branches of the tree that separated the Sheppard home from the Capriati house next door.

“Shit! I almost shot a sheet!” Jeff said, still chuckling and shaking his head as he holstered his weapon. “I must be more tired than I thought, buddy.”

Jeff turned toward Kurt, keeping the flashlight down so as not to blind his friend again. Kurt’s face was dimly lit by the reflected light and he looked pale and gaunt; like a desperate soul searching for salvation. Kurt looked up at the sky and placed his hands on his head, shaking it back and forth.

“I really don’t think it was a sheet. I think there
was
someone out here, Jeff,” Kurt muttered softly. “I was sleeping when I heard someone call my name. I swear...it-it sounded like Emily. I could’ve swore it was her.” When he lowered his head to face Mancini again, tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“Oh, Kurt, buddy. Don’t do this to yourself,” Jeff said sympathetically.

“I’d do anything to get her back.” Kurt sobbed. “Anything to have just one more day with her. Oh God, please...please, I’ll do anything.”

Jeff Mancini’s heart broke seeing his best friend like this. He was worried Kurt might be losing his grip on reality. The detective hugged his friend and led him back inside. They talked for a few hours on the living room sofa where they’d shared so many good memories with Emily: holidays, movie nights, football games and other joyous events. Eventually, Kurt fell asleep, emotionally spent. The police detective placed a blanket over his friend, watching him sleep for a bit before nodding off himself.

On his way to the precinct less than three hours later, Jeff felt his phone vibrate. He noticed he had two missed calls. He put it on speaker and placed the cell on the seat next to him, turning the volume down on his police radio so he could hear the messages.

“You have two new messages. To play your messa-” Mancini pushed 1 on his keypad as he drove past the basketball courts where he and Kurt used to play pick-up games when they were teenagers. The messages began to play:

“Beep. Mancini, Montgomery in CSU. Need you down here ASAP. Got something for you. Something weird.”

Maybe I finally caught a break
, Jeff thought to himself.

“Next message.”

“Beep. Helloooo, Detective Mancini. This is Rebecca Miller calling but you can call me Becca if you want. Do you? Do you want? Hee hee hee. Anyway, how
are
you?” Dr. Miller spoke in a soft tone, almost a whisper. “I have some information for you. I think you’ll like it very, very much. I
need
to see you as soon as possible. Come see me day or night. I’m always here for you, Jeff Mancini. You know what I mean. Byeeee.”

“To replay this message, press-” Jeff hung up the call and smiled. Did the stoic and ultra-professional Dr. Miller just drunk dial him? He wasn’t sure since her words weren’t slurred and there was no sign of impairment in her speech patterns. Mancini didn’t know the good doctor very well, but that call definitely seemed out of character. She sounded like one of the women on those phone sex commercials they played late at night. He chuckled at that thought and made a mental note to definitely return that call after stopping in to see Sgt. Montgomery in CSU.

After a quick stop at his desk to check messages and see if Crawley was in yet, Jeff headed down to CSU. Sasha Montgomery was sitting at her desk, bleary eyed but working.

“What do you have, Sasha? Something to help me nail this bastard?” Jeff asked, purposely repeating her words from the night before.

“You’re the detective. I supply the info, you figure out what it all means.” Montgomery said, yawning and stretching. “Where’s ‘creepy Crawly?’ Usually you two are attached at the hip.”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t in yet but he had a late night,” Mancini replied. “I’ll get him up to speed whenever he wanders in.”

Montgomery shrugged. “Hey, it’s not like I miss him. His act gets old after a while and sometimes he hits on me so hard, he leaves bruises.”

“He’s harmless. You know that,” Jeff said, settling onto a stool near Sasha’s desk. “Let’s get to it so you can eventually get some sleep.”

“From your lips...” Sasha said as she walked over to her computer. A few keystrokes later she’d brought up her report on the vehicle. “Like I said last night, this car is unusually clean, but whoever wiped it didn’t reckon with my skills.”

The sheer data on the screen overwhelmed Mancini but Sasha was right at home, shifting the charts, graphs and lists with the skill of a virtuoso musician. When she had them in the order she wanted, she began.

“At first glance, it seemed like the vehicle had no story to tell but after I scraped the treads and inner wheel wells, it told quite a fascinating little tale,” Sergeant Montgomery said. “There was trace residue from several different plants, trees and other flora as well as insect larvae and animal droppings. I ran them through the mass spectrometer and the most prominent residue came from the vaccinium corymbosom or High Bush Blueberry, a shrub whose fruit attracts various forms of wildlife, which explains the droppings. These particular pellets came from the procyon lotor, more commonly known as the raccoon. There was also a prominent amount of Quercus Coccinea or Scarlet Oak residue. I’ve already got Officer Nieves cross referencing for any location in the tri-state area where both types of plant life and raccoons would be present. So far he’s come up with 208 such spots.” She sighed.

Mancini made a face and Montgomery cut him off before he could say anything.

“I’m not done. I believe we can narrow it down even further. There were trace amounts of some form of petroleum within the mud I found in the tire treads. Once, I get the trimethylpentane and n-heptane ratio, I’ll be able to tell exactly where the petroleum was produced. I’m currently waiting for the results, but I should be able to at least give you a smaller search grid.” Sasha turned to Mancini with a hopeful look. “What do you think, Jeff?”