Read Marcie's Murder Online

Authors: Michael J. McCann

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Maraya21

Marcie's Murder (47 page)

“You talked to him, didn’t you?”
Muncy
prompted. “Where is he? What’d he say?”

Morley looked around at the circle of faces and sagged.
“He
went
home. He

s getting a few things and he

s going to go away for a while.”

“Where?” Muncy demanded. “Where’s he going?”

“I don’t know.” Morley chewed on her bottom lip. “Meese showed up before he could tell me. He had to end the call to get rid of her.”

“Meese?” Karen repeated. “Rachel Meese
is
there? At Morris’s house?”

“Where
does
he live?” Hank asked.

“Route 784,” Hall piped up. “
Civic number 16232. It’s a dead end
road
at the foot of
the
m
ountain.”

“What the hell are we waiting for?” Karen
asked
.

The deputies bundled Morley into the back of their cruiser and everyone piled into their vehicles, Hall squeezing reluctantly into the back of the
Fire
bird.
As Karen burned rubber leaving the parking lot, she directed Hall to reach down behind Hank’s seat for the dual strobe light
.
He handed it to
Hank
,
who
clipped
it
onto his sun visor and plugged
it
into the cigarette lighter.
Strobes flashing, they hurried
down
several blocks
to the ramp onto Highway 460
.
Karen floored it as they kept pace with Muncy’s unmarked
gray
Impala
along the highway. Eventually they reached
the
off-ramp leading to Route 784.

A
few minutes
later
they found themselves
at
Morris’s
property
. The road ended in a loop that allowed vehicles to escape the dead end. Morris’s house sat at two o’clock on the loop, a nice two-story frame
structure
with a short driveway leading up to the garage.
It was the only house
at this end of the road.

A black Lexus sat in the driveway closest to the garage. The driver’s side door
of the Lexus
was open. Behind the Lexus was Rachel Meese’s smart car, unoccupied.
In the loop, blocking the driveway b
ehind the smart car
,
was
the Harmony PD cruiser that Officer Brooks had driv
en
, and behind the cruiser was Muncy’s Impala. Karen
pulled over onto the shoulder of the loop close to
the Impala. She and Hank piled out, leaving Hall to fend for himself in the back seat.

Officer Louden stood next to the open door of the Lexus with his sidearm drawn. A chime was sounding inside the car. “It’s out of gas,” he said to Karen. “Key’s in the ignition, that’s why you hear it dinging, but it died in Park.”

“Some fugitive,” Karen said. “Runs out of gas in his own driveway.”

“Guess he didn’t check the gauge until it was too late,” Hank said.

“Or was too scared to stop
between the college and here in case we caught him right away.” Louden pointed at the house
with his weapon
. “The others are inside.”

“Do me a favor,” Karen asked him.

“Sure.”

She
gestured
at his Beretta.
“Holster that thing before you hurt
someone
with it. Either take better care of it or get a new one.”

Louden looked crestfallen. It was obvious he had a crush on her and was devastated by her criticism, but she was having none of it. “Take a course or something, for chrissakes. It’s disgraceful.”

“Yes, m’am.”

Karen and Hank went up the three steps onto the small porch and through the open front door
of Morris’s house
.
In the hallway
Officer Brooks turned at the sound of their footsteps. “Looks like he’s gone.”

Karen’s eyes shot to the staircase
on the left
leading
to the second floor
, where they could hear the room-to-room search in progress.

A
s
heriff’s
d
eputy appeared in the doorway on the right that led into the living room. His name tag
said
Charleton
. “Nobody on the main floor.”

They could hear sirens approaching in the distance.

“What about the basement?” Hank asked.

Charleton
shook his head. “Haven’t gotten there yet. My partner’
s checking the garage
.
I just finished the kitchen.

Hank nodded at Karen. “Let’s go.” He squeezed between Brooks and
Charleton
. There was a door just before the entrance to the kitchen. He drew his gun and glanced over his shoulder. Karen was there, her S
IG
held at high ready. She gave him a look
, wanting to precede him, but he
shook his head
and
opened the door. The stairs leading down were dark. There was a switch on the right. He flicked the lights on.

“Police!” He called
out
. “Show yourself at the bottom of the stairs with your hands on top of your head! Now!”

He waited a beat; heard nothing.

“Police, Morris!” he called out again. “We’re coming down
!
Place your hands on top of your head and keep them there
!

He went down the stairs cautiously, and as soon as possible he squatted and
peeked. No
one
. He went down two more steps and squatted again. Nothing. He could hear the sirens outside grow loud and then stop. He
went
to the bottom and surveyed the basement, his gun following his eyes. Karen came down behind him and moved across the floor on his right.

The basement was small and unfinished. They saw a water heater, a stack of plastic storage tubs, cardboard boxes, a rocking chair with a broken arm, a washer and dryer, but nothing to hide behind and no one in sight. They headed back upstairs.


B
asement
’s clear
,” Hank called out as he approached the
top of the stairs
. “We’re coming up
.

Charleton
eyed them as they emerged in
to
the hallway. “Not in the garage. My partner’s outside briefing the
s
taties. It’s
getting
crowded
out there
.”

“Let’s go see,” Hank suggested, holstering his gun.

Muncy thundered down the stairs. “We’re setting up a command post outside.” He gestured at Karen. “
Branham
’s upstairs; there’s something he wants you to look at.”

“Sure.” She holstered her weapon
and went upstairs as Hank followed Muncy outside
.

“Stainer?” Branham called out. “That you?”

“Where are you?”

“In here.”

She followed his voice into
a
room at the end
of the hall
that faced out on the front of the house. It was fixed up as a study with a glass-and-aluminum desk
holding
a computer and printer
,
a bookshelf holding catalogs
and
text books,
a green filing cabinet
,
and a metal gun cabinet, the door of which stood open. Branham stood in front of the gun cabinet with his arms folded
. H
e turned around and
raised
an
eyebrow
.

“Take a look.”

“It’s empty,” Karen said.

“It is. Also expensive. A Browning gun safe; costs more than a grand. Combination lock, optional dehumidifier, optional pistol rack. My brother-in-law bought one like this to reward himself for making it to forty in one piece.”

Karen stepped up next to him for a
closer
look.
There were wire fixtures o
n the inside of the safe door
intended to
h
o
ld long guns
. They were empty. The interior of the safe was divided into slots on the right to store two more long guns
–empty–and
shallow shelves on the left to store ammunition, binoculars
,
or other such items
–also
empty. At the top was a shelf that held the optional pistol rack. Empty.
“So what do you figure was in here?”

“Hard to say for sure
but
maybe you can tell
,” Branham replied,
pointing behind the desk.
“Look.”

Karen
crouched down
to look at
several rifle rounds
on the floor
.
Morris had evidently
dropped the box,
spilling the rounds on the floor
, grabbed most of them
,
and
left
the rest
. She pointed at one of the cartridges. “Three-seventy-f
i
ve Remington
U
ltra
M
ag. Nasty.”

They heard several more vehicles arrive outside.
Branham folded his arms across his chest.
“For
big
game
, right
?

Karen looked at him. “
You could stop an elephant with
one
, if you
were
brainless enough to want to do that kind of shit
.”


All right
. You’re the expert. What
kind of rifle does he have
?”


I don’t know, but there aren’t a lot of
possibilities
.
Remington or Savage
, basically
. The Remington 700 XCR. That’s a center fire bolt action extreme condition rifle.
Helluva recoil
.

“I don’t know much about long guns,” Branham said, “but I
figured
you would.”

“I’m into handguns,” Karen said, “but my brother Delbert’s a hunting
nut and
t
he XCR’s on his Christmas list
.

“What kind of range are we talking about?”

Karen
stood up. “
Everything else here looks high end, so he’s probably got a high-end scope, too.
Range?
At
two hundred
yards
the .375’s
like you just fired it
.
At t
hree
hundred yards
, with a
real
good shooter,
still
no problem
for accuracy or punching power
. A great shooter?
F
arther.

Branham grimaced. “Let’s go downstairs. We need to
know
where he’s gone.”

“Maybe the cavalry’s already got it figured out for us.”

Outside they found the loop crammed with vehicles.
A f
olding table had been set up on Morris’s front lawn
. A
crowd stood around
it
as someone unrolled full-sized topographical maps.

Karen found Hank and rapped his elbow. “When did the circus hit town?”

“Sheriff Steele’s been working the phones
.
” Hank glanc
ed
at Branham. “Called everybody except the Navy.” He
gestured
at a van and trailer
nearest
to them on the loop. “State
p
olice
t
actical
o
perations
t
eam
.

They watched an all-terrain vehicle back out of the trailer. “They brought a canine unit with them
, too
.
They

re
behind the house
checking the shed. The other van and trailer
are
from the Forest Service. That’s the woman with the maps.
Her partner’s bringing out their ATV.

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