Page 54 of Buried Too Deep

In return, Burke’s group helped the cop solve cases that NOPD couldn’t. Theirs was a symbiotic relationship. More importantly, Phin trusted the man.

Stepping behind the car, he placed the call to André first and brought him up to speed. André was on desk duty for a few more weeks, still recovering from a recent injury.

“You guys,” André said with a sigh. “Never a dull moment. Antoine’s with you?”

“Yes. He was the one who traced the stolen laptops.”

“I figured. I’ll call it in. You guys sit tight. Stay away from the victim.”

“I’m not touching him,” Phin declared.

André sighed again. “But you can’t make promises for Burke.”

It was the truth. “Sorry, André. Listen, I checked into the dead guy on our way over and he has a wife. There’s another car in the garage, so she might be inside the house. Just so you know.”

“Thanks, Phin. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Uniforms should be there in less than five. I’ll let Detective Clancy know, too.”

Phin ended the call. “André’s calling it in. He’ll be here in ten, uniforms in five. You okay, Burke?”

Burke was still staring inside the car, his brow furrowed. “Why is he wearing a glove? And why just one? His other hand is bare.”

Phin felt like he should look because the others were looking, and he didn’t want to seem squeamish or…broken. But SodaPop whined again, and Phin listened to her, taking another step back.

Don’t push it. Better to be a little squeamish and broken than totally nonfunctional.

“Why did he shoot himself?” Antoine asked, wearing an equally puzzled expression. “I made sure that everything was wiped from the laptops. Was he so afraid of whoever hired him that he killed himself rather than take whatever punishment his boss would dish out?”

Phin kept his gaze on the back of the car, knowing that if he stared at the blood too long, he’d slip. Blood and bone and gore were all serious triggers for him. But as he stared at the car, his mind cleared and his gaze zeroed in on what he’d thought was a mud stain.

It didn’t look right. It was thinner than mud would be. But it was just thin enough to be a smear of blood.

He pulled the flashlight from the carabiner clip on his belt and shone the light at the car. Yep. That was blood. It wasn’t enough blood to trigger him, and it wasn’t on his hands. Those were the things he had to watch for.

“Burke? Come and look at this.”

Burke immediately jogged around the victim’s sedan. “Shit. Either he cut himself before he blew his brains out or…”

Antoine joined them. “Or that’s no suicide.”

“Still doesn’t explain the one glove,” Burke grumbled. “Let’s wait by the curb. We’ve contaminated the scene enough.”

Phin backed away, turning to walk down the driveway, flashlight still in hand. He kept the beam at his feet, not wanting to step on evidence by mistake.

He saw no more blood, but his light did pick up on something else. Something dark, down on the curb behind Burke’s SUV. It looked like a backpack.

Abandoned backpacks had the potential of being very dangerous. Something else Phin had learned the hard way. He opened the SUV’s door and patted the seat. “SodaPop, in.” Because there was no way he was endangering the life of his dog. She jumped in obediently. “Good girl. Hey, Burke, Antoine, look at this.”

Both men followed him to the dark object, which was indeed a bag of some kind. Phin shone his light on the bag, stopping when he got to a logo that he recognized.

“Holy shit,” Antoine breathed. “That’s a Faraday bag. I have several from this same company. What do you want to bet that our laptops were in that bag?”

“Sucker bet,” Burke said. “But why is the bag here? Did it get dropped by Medford Hughes? Or by whoever killed him?”

Antoine crouched beside it, using his phone to snap a photo. “And is there still something in it? I want to check it so bad.”

Burke’s chuckle was a welcome sound. “Sorry, Antoine. Hopefully André will pass us some information.”

“For now, step away from it,” Phin said quietly. “It could be harmful.”

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