Fall of night, p.3
Fall of Night, page 3
Lou giggled, the joyous sound contained in the small kitchen. Married. Such a small word, and one she hadn’t expected to give her such happiness, not after years of living alone. Just a few more days and they’d be together again. Reaching the door, Lou slid off her jacket and hung it on the hook. If she got up by six, Lou thought, she could leave Waterton at seven. She’d be able to be on the outskirts of Lethbridge by—
Through the door’s narrow window, a silhouette caught her gaze. The hair rose on the back of her neck. In the darkness stood a man. He was at the end of her driveway less than fifty feet from her door.
Watching.
Chapter two
Lou’s heartbeat surged. With the streetlight behind the man, she couldn’t see his face… but she could feel him. A sliver of ice ran the length of her spine as a realization hit: The lights in the kitchen meant he almost certainly could see her.
Hands shaking, she turned the lock, bolting the door. She stepped sideways—her eyes tracking him—and fumbled blindly along the wall until she found the light panel. She flipped the switch. The room fell into velvety blackness and Lou bolted to the window above the sink.
She peeked out. From this angle, the man was closer, but with the screen of trees she could see fewer details. He hadn’t moved. His imagined gaze still rested on the door where she’d entered, his body postured toward the house, stance wide. Lou rubbed sweaty hands on the sides of her jeans. Had he been waiting there when she came inside? She didn’t know.
She needed to call the police.
Lou was leery to leave the window, but there was only one phone in the house. Terrified, she crept to the black rotary in the hallway and dialed. She stretched out the cord to tiptoe back to the window as it began to ring.
The man’s silhouette remained in place.
“Waterton police station. How may I direct your call?” a woman’s cheerful voice said.
“Liz, hi. It’s Louise Newman, over on Evergreen Avenue. I think I’ve got a prowler.”
“A prowler.” The woman’s tone changed abruptly. “Inside or outside of your house?”
“Outside. He’s watching the house, as far as I can tell, but he hasn’t moved in about five minutes. I don’t think he realizes I know he’s there.”
“I’ll send someone over right away. Just stay on the line while I contact Sadie and Jordan.” There was a pause and Lou heard Liz talking to someone. There was a mumbled answer, then: “WHERE outside the park?!” Another, muffled reply. Lou leaned toward the window. In the darkness a small red eye winked as a cigarette rose like a firefly to the man’s mouth. He breathed in and the ember flared. Lou leaned closer, trying to catch something—anything!—and the top of the phone’s receiver banged the window.
The man jerked at the sound, his gaze swiveling toward the panel of glass behind which Lou stood, phone in hand, heart beating its way through the cage of her chest. Before she could move, the man turned and jogged away in the direction of the downtown. In a heartbeat, he was gone.
“Lou? You still there, honey?” Liz’s exasperated voice returned.
“Still here,” she said, “but I should tell you—”
“Sadie and Jordan are out at a crime scene right now. I tried their radio, but they’re not answering. I’m going to call Constable Hycha for you. Oscar’s off-shift, but he should be able to get there in—”
“It’s okay, Liz. Forget about it. I’ll just swing by tomorrow and make the report. The guy’s gone.”
“But you said he was outside your—”
“He was. I saw him take off. I don’t know what he was doing here, but he’s gone now.”
“Lou, it’s really no trouble for Oscar to swing by,” Liz said. “He won’t mind.”
“I know he won’t, but I will.”
She sighed. With the figure gone, her anxiety faded like smoke. Lou had been on edge all week.
It could have been someone stopping for a cigarette, she thought. Rich being away was getting on her nerves.
“There’s nothing to see,” Lou said. “Honestly.”
“Well… if you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“You come by tomorrow and write up the report. Okay?”
“Got it,” Lou said.
“And I’ll mention it to Sadie and Jordan once they’re done with the crime scene. They could swing by your house then.”
“Sure. But honestly, it’s fine, Liz. I’m good.”
“Well, call if anything changes,” Liz said. “Oscar’s just a phone call away. You know that, right?”
“I do. And thanks.”
“Not a problem. G’night, Lou.”
“’Night, Liz.”
For the second time that night, Lou hung up the phone and went to the door. She double-checked the lock. She checked the windows and doors in the rest of the house, then flicked on the outdoor porch light before heading upstairs. When she glanced out the window just before she crawled into bed, the street was empty.
***
The sky had darkened to slate gray by the time Constable Black Plume and Constable Wyatt reached the parking area next to the Buffalo Paddocks. Sadie parked their vehicle in front of a line of sandstone slabs, pocketed her keys and climbed out. The rocks were the park’s way of preventing people from driving onto parkland and while Sadie appreciated the environmental approach, she was also annoyed that they couldn’t drive the rest of the way.
There was a body to deal with.
Constable Ben Grayden from the Pincher Creek police service waited at the far end of the line of vehicles. He looked up as Sadie stepped from the car. He was auburn haired, his nose freckled and peeling, and he had the same tall, raw-boned physique of the ranchers who lived in the area.
He strode to Sadie’s side and stopped, grinning. “Constable Black Plume?”
She nodded. “That’s me.”
“Thanks for coming out. I know it’s not ideal timing,” he said, waving at the darkening sky, “but I didn’t want to waste any time. Body’s got to be moved before the animals get to it.”
“Appreciate you calling us,” she said, then glanced to where Jordan was pulling the camera and evidence kit from the back of the police vehicle. “Hey, Jordan. While you’re back there, can you grab a couple spare pairs of gloves?”
“You got it, Sadie.”
She turned back to Constable Grayden. Behind him, an ambulance waited alongside a police cruiser labeled “Pincher Creek Police.”
“I’m Ben, by the way.” The officer offered his hand and Sadie shook it. His fingers were warm despite the chill, his grip strong but not crushing. “I was friends with Jim Gladstone back when we were in school,” he added.
Jim’s name was a kick in the gut. Sadie jerked her hand back, smile disappearing. “Right.”
“You used to work with Jim, right?”
Sadie gritted her teeth and nodded.
Ben rocked on his heels. “I was sorry to hear about—”
“So where’s this body at anyhow?” she interrupted. “I want to get started.”
“Over there at the edge of the foothills.” Ben pointed. “Where the slope starts to rise.”
“That’d be Indian Springs,” Jordan said. Sadie nodded as he came forward, the camera bouncing on his chest, both arms full of equipment. “It’s a little lake on the edge of the park. Some drought years it dries up entirely.”
“Interesting.” Sadie took the evidence kit and turned to Ben. “You ready to go, Constable Grayden?”
“Ben, please.”
She stared at him for a second. “Okay, Ben,” she said. “You ready?”
“You bet. I’ll tell the EMTs to grab their gear and follow us. They can take the body into Lethbridge for an autopsy once you’re done.”
“Thanks.” Sadie scanned the horizon. The mountains were black shapes against the dulled silver of the sky. Night was falling. Even with the lights they carried, they’d soon be wandering around in the dark. “Better get moving,” she said. “Want to get as much of the scene tagged as we can before we lose the light.”
They walked for a few minutes in silence before Sadie said: “We’ll need to mark off the entire area, Jordan. Block off the whole lake from hikers.”
“Oh, my team already secured the perimeter,” Ben said.
Sadie frowned. “You did what?”
“Wanted to secure it in case anyone else saw our lights and came to snoop around, but… I figured you’d want to do your own assessment too.”
“It’s our jurisdiction,” she said. “Something gets missed, it’s my ass on the line. Not yours.”
“Uh… yeah.” Ben laughed nervously, then fell silent.
Jordan, two steps behind them, said nothing.
“The light’s almost gone. We can discuss this later,” she grumbled and then sped up again.
On they walked; Sadie, Ben, and then Jordan. A few steps behind, the EMTs followed, a stretcher and body bag in hand. An uneasy silence pressed down on the small group, the hush of the night air and darkness pushing aside any conversation.
Twenty minutes in and Sadie’s back was slick with sweat, her neck itchy. The small group was surrounded by flying, biting insects, and she swatted them as she trudged through the overgrown grass. Mosquitoes whined in her ear. Ben should have contacted them the minute he got the call about the body, she thought. She didn’t want to be out there, running around in the dark. And then, almost as quickly, Sadie thought of Jim, her one-time partner. Even now, years after his death, he popped to mind on a daily basis. She knew what he’d say in this situation: Relax, Sadie. You’re just worried because it’s a body.
And she was.
Probably nothing to it, Jim would tell her if he was here. Some outback hiker who got lost and died of exposure.
That was entirely possible. It had happened in Waterton before. But another, less confident voice niggled at the back of her mind. The voice of doubt. What if that wasn’t what happened? What if this wasn’t an accident? Then she and Jordan—a kid just three years out of the academy—had a murder to investigate and she’d done too many of those in the last few years.
Sadie wiped a line of sweat from her brow as a small lake—a pond, really—finally came into view.
“How’d the hunters find the body?” she panted. “They would have had to hike past the park boundary even to see her out here. If they were hunting, they shouldn’t have been inside the park.”
“They say they saw the body through their rifle sights,” Ben said.
“And you believe them?”
“They’re a couple of kids from Hill Spring,” he said. “Never been in any trouble before. Never stepped out of line.”
“You interviewed them both?” she asked.
“I did.”
“Anything seem strange? Anything that didn’t add up?”
Ben frowned. “Nothing. They were out together when they saw the body through the scopes. They had their hunting licenses, and they were out following a herd of deer.” Ben shrugged. “Good kids. Respectful. They’d even asked permission to cross the Durnerin ranch to reach the forest reserve.”
Sadie pursed her lips. “So you believe them?”
“I’ve no reason not to believe them. Like I said, good kids.”
Sadie shook her head. She knew too well how the people who hid in plain sight were the most dangerous. “Not sure I have your confidence,” she said. “Still seems pretty suspicious to me.”
“At least they called in the body,” Jordan said. “If they hadn’t, well…”
He left the thought hanging like a thread between the three of them. Sadie’s gaze flicked back to the flat shimmer of the pond. It was hidden in the elbow of the mountains on the park’s east side, completely separate from any roads. Barring this overgrown trail, there was no access. No way to even get here.
“If those hunters hadn’t called,” Sadie said. “No one would have found the body until spring.”
“Except the bears,” Ben said. “We’re deep in grizzly territory here. Ranchers are riled up this time of year, ’cause the bears are taking their cattle. But they’ll feed on anything they can find, dead or alive. If those hunters hadn’t called, well, I doubt there’d be anything to find come spring.”
“Right.” Her feet slowed as they neared the boggy edge of the lake. The scent of water-logged carrion rose in a wave. Sadie swallowed hard and began to breathe through her mouth. Behind her, she heard Jordan gag.
Ben cleared his throat. “C’mon,” he said. “The guys and I made note of a few things, but, uh…” He ducked his chin. “Like you said, Constable Black Plume, you’ll want to check it yourself.”
“Thanks.” She flicked her braids back behind her shoulders. “So Jordan, you want to document the scene or tag?”
“I, uh…” His gaze moved skittishly to the body and then away again. Even in the half-darkness, he looked green. “I’ll handle the camera, if that’s okay with you.”
“Fine with me,” Sadie said. “Let’s start with the body then. We can check the trees tomorrow when its light, but we should get the body out of here before anything else finds it.”
“Right.” Jordan lifted the camera. “You tell me what to take.”
Sadie nodded. She walked slowly to the body, forcing her mind into that white space she went to when she needed to deal with a gruesome crime scene. Like the day that Jim had been killed and she and Jordan had responded. Her mind took in the pond and the dead girl with a lack of emotion, her clarity hatched out of the horror she analyzed.
Look at the pieces, she remembered Jim telling her the first time they’d analyzed a crime scene. Don’t let yourself look at it all. Just go bit by bit. Look—really look!—at what you already have rather than searching for something else.
She reached the edge of the pond where the body lay. The mud was churned with footprints, but they’d been worn down to pockets of undefined mud by the rain of the last days. This isn’t an accident. Seeing a single line of prints—a police officer’s shoes, if she had to guess—her lip curled. She glanced back over her shoulder. “You guys look for any footprints before you walked up?”
“We did.” Constable Grayden nodded. “Took photos too,” he said. “I’ll get them to you.” He stepped up to her. “These two sets here,” he said, pointing down at the clean-edged prints in the mud. “Those ones are us. The rest are left over from whoever brought her here.”
Sadie’s gaze drifted to the others. They were lumpy and indistinct, blurred away by the passage of time. She swore under her breath. “I was hoping we’d have something a bit clearer.”
“I figure the girl’s been here a few days at least,” Ben said. “Might be closer to a week.”
“The rain last week must have blurred the prints.”
“Uh-huh.” Ben took a step closer to the body. “It’s shit like this that makes me hate my job.”
It was an unexpected comment—something Jim might’ve said—and the words unsettled Sadie. She forced a tight smile.
“Well, someone’s got to do it. Right?”
“Guess so. Just wish…” He sighed. “People can do some pretty fucked up stuff.”
“Yeah. They can.”
For a split-second, Sadie was standing in Susan’s kitchen, stinking of burned eggs and blood, as she stared down at Jim’s body. The image seared. She shook her head to dislodge it.
“Night’s falling,” she said. “I better get on with this.” Sadie peeked over her shoulder. “Jordan, photograph the girl just as she was found. Then I’ll check for evidence.”
“Got it,” he said, and the snap-flash of the camera began.
Sadie slid on a pair of latex gloves and shook out an evidence bag. She waited until Jordan had taken photographs from all sides before she moved toward the body.
“I’ll get you some light, Constable Black Plume,” Ben said.
“Thanks.” She looked up. “And it’s Sadie.”
He jogged away from her, returning a few minutes later with a large police light. It shone a wide beam over the corpse, lighting the twilight scene with the intensity of a movie set.
“I appreciate that,” Sadie said as she leaned in. The smell of rot rose to her nostrils and she swallowed bile.
“Tell me if you need it pointed somewhere else,” Ben said.
“That’s fine.”
The dead girl was small-framed and wore a pair of black jeans, Calvin Klein label, a pair of short mid-heeled boots, the name Leboutin embossed on the red-soled undersides, and a black cashmere sweater over a pale pink camisole. She lay on her side, half in and half out of the water, a long swath of dark hair covering a pale face. Even with autumn weather, the body was swollen and bloated. Waves of noxious miasma rose to Sadie’s nose as she checked the girl, her gloved hands prodding her in search of clues. Sadie tipped the body sideways and a sickening gurgle rose from the girl’s throat. Sadie fought the urge to vomit.
Stay focused. See the crime. See the details. Nothing else.
The white room in her mind reappeared.
The body had already started to rot. The girl’s limbs were loose, rigor mortis gone. It had been more than eighteen hours but otherwise it was hard to tell how long she’d been there. Sadie checked the front pockets but there was no wallet, no I.D. The young woman wasn’t dressed like a hiker, which dimmed the possibility of a hiker gone missing. Her boots, though low-heeled, were not hiking gear. Her clothing was all neatly zipped, and her camisole still tucked into the waist of her jeans, which suggested that she hadn’t been raped. Rapist-murderers, Sadie knew, were not known for tidying the body afterwards. In fact, this girl looked like she had just stepped off a runway. Her clothes were too nice for the area where she’d been found. Her hair—though matted—was free of debris.
