Targeted (Callahan & McLane Book 4) (8 page)

“The guy,” Ava stated. “You say that like you know him.”

Brian shrugged. “I’ve seen him working in the yard pretty often during the day. I’ve never seen a woman or kids here. Does he have a family?”

“No kids,” said Ava. “Divorced.”

“That’s good. Well . . . not good. I’d worried that he had kids since there were so many Halloween decorations. I don’t like the thought of kids seeing him like that.” He shuddered.

Ava understood.

“So you stood at the end of the walkway,” prompted Zander. “What made you move closer?”

Brian squeezed his bottle. “I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right. As I got closer, I could see the blood on his shirt and the spikes in his wrists, but I kept telling myself it was fake. It wasn’t until I spotted the big tattoo on the inside of his forearm that I realized that was no mannequin.” He looked nauseated.

“That must have been horrible for you,” sympathized Ava. She’d been warned the body had been hung on the wall, but the sight had rattled her to the core. This was a scene that would be stored permanently in her memory banks.

“I can’t get it out of my head,” said Brian. “I banged on the window a few times and he didn’t move. I rang the doorbell and called 911. I finally tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. I stepped in the house and yelled to see if anyone else was in the house.”

“You didn’t worry for your own safety?” Nora asked.

Brian stared at her. “That wasn’t very smart of me, was it? I didn’t even consider that the person who’d done it could still be inside until
right this minute
.” He ran his hands over his face and bent over. “Holy shit. What the hell? I guess I’d assumed he’d done it himself.” He looked up at the investigators. “But no one could drive those posts into their own wrists.” He froze, leaped up, and then took large lunging steps toward a corner of the yard.

The investigators looked away at the sound of his retching. Ava picked up the bottle of water he’d dropped.

“Poor bastard,” Mason said in sympathy.

Brian returned after a few moments and sheepishly took the bottle Ava handed him. “It happens to all of us,” she told him as he rinsed his mouth and spit.

“Someone murdered him,” Brian said with a shudder. “Deep down I
knew
someone murdered him, but it didn’t hit home until just a minute ago.”

“It was your brain trying to cope and protect you from what you’d seen,” Zander pointed out. “You don’t expect to see something like that every day. Or any day.”

“Hell no,” said Brian. “Do you know who did it?”

“Not yet,” said Ava. “We’ll find him. Someone doesn’t create a scene like that without leaving a lot of evidence behind. Did you touch anything when you went in the house?”

He started to vehemently shake his head, but froze. “I was going to say no, but I did lift the mask because I was going to check for a pulse at his neck. Once I saw his neck had been slashed, I stopped. So my fingerprints are on the mask right at the bottom. Is that okay?
Shit.
I shouldn’t have touched that.”

“It’s expected that you would try to check for signs of life,” Nora said. “I’ll have one of the techs take your prints for comparables. Did you touch anything else?”

“Just the doorbell and the door handle. I backed out of the room once I saw he was dead.” He shook his head with a confused look on his face. “That mask is fucking creepy,” stated Brian. “Who does shit like that? It’s like a scene out of one of the
Scream
movies.”

Ava exchanged a look with the other investigators. “About the mask, we’re going to ask that you not share that detail with anyone . . . not your girlfriend or your mother or any reporter that contacts you. We’d like to keep that sort of unusual detail quiet to help weed out the liars who will call in trying to claim they did the murder.” It wasn’t the entire reason to keep it quiet, but it should be enough.

“You think reporters will contact me?” Brian asked, looking slightly stunned.

Ava was starting to think he wasn’t the sharpest tool on the Home Depot sales floor. But it was the middle of the night and the discovery of a violent death had probably muddled his brain a bit. Hers felt muddled. “I’d say yes. You don’t have to talk to them. It’s up to you, but I think it rarely does any good. They can come to us for an official statement.”

“I don’t want to talk to them,” said Brian. “I don’t need to talk about this ever again. I want this shit out of my brain as quickly as possible.”

“We’ll have you come in and deliver an official statement tomorrow—today, I mean,” said Nora. The sound of a car door slamming had them all turning to see who’d arrived.

“Seth Rutledge,” murmured Mason next to her.

Ava nodded, pleased to see the chief medical examiner of the state had personally responded to their case.

9

“We’ve been busy tonight,” Seth Rutledge said to the group of investigators. “Two drunk driving accidents and now this. As soon as I heard there was a trooper involved, I wanted to be here.”

Mason had worked with the medical examiner more times than he cared to remember. The man was good at his job.

Seth frowned as he realized Ava and Zander were present as investigators. “What’s pulled in the FBI?”

“You’re aware of the OSP captain who was murdered at the coast?” Nora asked. At Seth’s nod she went on. “He was found with a horror mask covering his face. This case also has a similar type of mask.”

Seth didn’t move. “Captain Schefte’s autopsy was finished late yesterday afternoon. I got a quick briefing from one of my examiners, Dr. Trask. She didn’t mention the mask. She primarily described the injury to the neck. I assume the mask is in her full report, which I’ll receive tomorrow.” He paused. “But we had another case last week where a horror mask was involved.” His face was deadly serious. “He was an FBI agent.”

“Vance Weldon,” Nora said. “We’re aware and have gone through your autopsy notes already. You were confident he was a suicide?”

“I’m glad you’re aware of the case and have already reviewed it. Vance Weldon was a tough one, but I never assign a classification unless I’m comfortable with it.”

“What made it tough?” Mason asked.

“We have to classify deaths as homicide, suicide, natural, or undetermined. Weldon clearly was not natural or undetermined—he died from strangulation by hanging. I went with suicide based on the position in which he was found, a statement from his wife about his past attempt, his medications, and how she described his recent state of mind. I didn’t see anything that indicated murder. His wrists were clear of the abrasions I’d expect if someone had bound his hands to hang him. Maybe I rushed to judgment on that one, but it felt right at the time. I won’t claim to be perfect. I’ve made classification errors before. Now I want to review it again.”

“Based on what you knew, you made the right determination,” stated Zander. “I’ve been through your notes and most of the investigator notes from the case, and it all points at suicide. The masks are the only thing making us take a look to see if he should be grouped with Denny Schefte and now Louis Samuelson.”

“The second two are OSP,” Seth pointed out. “Why include an FBI agent?”

“That’s what we’re hoping to find out,” said Ava.

Seth looked at the house. “I’ll get started right away. Let’s nail the bastard who’s doing this.”

“Amen,” muttered Mason.

They followed the medical examiner into the house. The crime scene techs were still working in the bloody kitchen. Nora told Seth they’d finished taking pictures of the body in its current position. Seth studied the body, looking at it from all angles. He moved one of the hands, peering at the spike in the right wrist. “That’s a new one for me,” he said softly. He pushed the shirt out of the way to get a clear view of one of the spikes under the armpit. “It was nailed in at a downward angle. Someone knew they’d have to do it that way to keep the body in place.” He reached up and rapped across the wall with his knuckles. “The bugger even checked for the position of the stud in the wall. He knew driving the spikes into the drywall might not hold the man’s weight.”

“How hard would it be to drive a spike of that width into a stud?” asked Ava. “That doesn’t sound like something I could do with a hammer.”

“It’d take a lot of force,” said Zander. “Probably a larger mallet of some sort and a lot of muscle and swing.”

“A sledgehammer?” Ava suggested. “Or would that be overkill?” She grimaced at her poor choice of words.

“We’ll run some tests to find out,” said Nora grimly. “Someone thought through every aspect of this scene before they got here.”

Premeditated.

Dr. Rutledge removed the mask, studied it, and dropped it into the paper bag that Nora held out. “Never watched those movies,” he commented.

Mason was starting to wonder who had watched them. Maybe he simply didn’t hang around with any horror movie watchers.

“Help me lift him down,” Seth said. Mason and Zander stepped forward and each grabbed a shoulder and upper arm as Seth grabbed hold of the man’s shirtfront. Mason held his breath as they lifted Samuelson off the spikes and laid him on the material Seth had spread out on the floor.

“Rigor is absent,” the medical examiner commented. “You said he was discovered at one? I can still feel warmth in his torso. I’ll say he was killed not long before that, but I’ll run some tests for a more definite time.”

“His socks are filthy with barkdust and dirt,” commented Ava. “The floors of this house are pretty clean for a guy who lives alone . . . at least from what I’ve seen on this floor. It looks like he went outside wearing his socks and actually walked in the dirt.”

“Possibly our killer drew him out of the house?” Mason asked.

“Who here would walk in barkdust in socks?” Ava asked. No one responded. “Right. No one walks in the dirt unless you’re not thinking or don’t have a choice. The kitchen sink and counters are clean. I glanced in the powder room, and it’s very clean. I think he had no choice but to walk in the dirt or he was in a big hurry.”

“Let’s find the dirt,” Mason said.

“Shit. I’ve got a search going on in both yards,” said Nora. “They probably trampled all over the footprints.”

“Not if they did it right,” pointed out Zander.

The medical examiner crouched next to Louis Samuelson. He’d taken a good look at the socks when Ava spoke up and was now palpating the victim’s skull. “He’s got a serious dent on the back of the head,” Seth said. He lifted his gloved hand from the skull and showed the sticky drying blood on his hand. “It cracked his skull. I’ll know more after I x-ray it, but it’s a wide one and would have been seriously debilitating. I assume no baseball bat or the like has turned up?”

“Denny had the same head injury,” Mason pointed out.

“His hands are clean,” observed Seth. “He didn’t touch his head or his neck injury. The blow to the head definitely knocked him out. It might have been enough to kill him.”

“I wonder if he was hit in the yard,” Ava said. “There would be some sort of drag trail. I think we need to talk to the guys searching the backyard.” Nora was already headed toward the back door, and Mason immediately followed.

They stepped through the door onto a small wooden deck with a huge barbecue and two deck chairs. The backyard of the home was enclosed by a high fence. Mason approved, liking the privacy. It wasn’t one of those fences that gave glimpses into the neighbor’s yard if you stood at the right angle. This one was a good foot higher than the standard fence and impossible to see through. Two large bright lights shone from the back of the house, lighting up the entire yard. Again Mason approved, and wondered if they were motion detectors. If anyone tried to sneak close to the house, there was no place to hide from the light.

Three patrol officers were at the far end of the yard, slowly sweeping the grass with their flashlights.

“Good. I told them to start at the far end so they haven’t gotten very far,” Nora said. “Hey, guys!” she yelled. “Hold up a moment. Stay in your positions, please.”

The yard was 90 percent grass. No one had put any effort into fancy landscaping. It was a simple layout. Grass in the center, a wide strip of barkdust along the fences and around the wooden deck. Pulling out his tiny LED flashlight, Mason stepped to the edge of the deck and shone his light on the barkdust around the deck. The deck stood about two feet off the ground. There was no railing, but at the center of the farthest edge, a few wooden steps led to the grass.

“There’s a large flattened area in the barkdust here,” said Mason. “What’s the weather been doing for the last five days?” He knew it’d been cloudy and damp at the coast, but the Willamette Valley weather was always different.

“We haven’t had rain in over a week,” said Ava.

“Things should be dry,” said Nora. “No mud.”

They stepped close and studied the impression from the deck. To Mason it looked about the size of a male torso, as if someone had lain in the dirt.

Samuelson’s shirt had been clean of barkdust. Front and back.

Something or someone else had rested here. Had it been their killer as he waited for Louis?

Footprints dotted the area around the larger impression. Mason walked the edge of the deck, checking the rest of the barkdust area. Nothing jumped out at him.

“Scan this part of the barkdust carefully,” Nora shouted at the cops who were waiting patiently at the end of the yard. “We’re looking for footprints, a sharp weapon, and something solid and large that could be used to hit someone in the head. Keep your eye out for anything that could hold fingerprints.” A chorus of acknowledgments came from the men.

A light came on in the backyard of a home two houses over. Mason could see the roofline of the home, but not the backyard or people. They were waking up the neighborhood. “You’ll need a canvass of the neighborhood first thing in the morning,” he said under his breath to Nora.

She nodded. “On my list.”

Not wanting to step off the deck, Zander shone his flashlight at the barkdust along the fence. Mason noticed a tall gate where the fence met the house on the west side of the home. He walked to the other side of the deck and checked the east side of the home. No gate.

“I’ll tell the techs to check the gate latch for prints,” said Nora. “Let’s check on the guys out front.” The group followed her back through the house. The medical examiner was instructing the crime scene techs about additional photos of the body, and several cops stood around watching. “Outside, please, guys,” Nora ordered. “Let’s give him some respect.”

The cops silently filed out the front door and joined two others who’d just finished the search of the front yard. One stepped up to Nora. “We didn’t find anything in the yard that wasn’t a Halloween decoration. There’re tons of footprints everywhere, especially around the gravestones and other stuff, that I’d assume the victim made while he was placing them.” Mason wasn’t surprised.

“Did you see any large items that could be used as a weapon?” Nora asked. “Something to hit a guy in the head and take him down?”

The two cops exchanged a look. “Some of those gravestones are heavy,” said one. “I’d assumed they were Styrofoam or a light plaster, but they’re really solid. They’d kill a guy if you swung one at his head with enough force.”

Death by gravestone?

That would be a new one for Mason.

“We need more light,” said Nora. “We’ll have to study them closer in the morning.”

“Wonder if you’ll find one with some real blood on it,” said Mason. “Although I think this guy is a planner. He would have brought his own weapon, not relied on finding something handy.”

Seth Rutledge stepped out the front door and joined the four investigators. “I’m going home to bed,” he stated. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, but I want to shut my eyes for a while.”

“No fair,” muttered Ava jokingly.

Seth smiled at her, his eyes bloodshot. “Trust me. I get called out in the middle of the night a lot more than you do.”

“You’re the boss,” said Mason. “I’d think you’d be able to pull rank and hand off the on-call night shifts.”

“I do,” said Seth. “But I’ve always felt I should cover a few nights here and there. Keeps my head in the game. My predecessor did it until he retired. I guess he had the same philosophy.”

“Anything else we need to immediately know?” Zander asked.

The ME shook his head. “I’ll have a report for you this evening.”