Page 20 of I'm Watching You

‘Don’t underestimate a victim. They know how to survive. They’ve learned how to walk on eggshells.’

‘This really sucks, Lindsay.’

‘Jen, I’ve been down this road too many times. Just pray that she finds the courage to leave. Or better – that bastard husband of hers drops dead.’

The humidity and temperature had risen the heat to an almost unbearable level. Black thunderclouds thickened in the western skies.

Zack and several of the uniforms, including a canine unit, had combed every inch of the shelter’s backyard and thesurrounding yards for Turner’s hand, the murder weapon, or anything that might connect to the murder. They’d found nothing.

Sara had photographed the crime scene from every angle and sketched it. She and her assistant had collected hair and fiber samples from the corpse and then given the go-ahead for the body removal company to take Turner to the medical examiner’s office.

Zack and Sara had watched as officers had lifted the dead man into the body bag. After zipping the bag closed, Sara had sealed the zipper with a plastic tie. The seal wouldn’t be broken until the corpse arrived downtown at the state medical examiner’s office on Jackson Street.

The attendants now placed the body bag on the gurney as Sara glanced at the dark sky. ‘I’m going to keep working the scene until the weather forces me out.’

‘Good. You don’t have much time.’ Zack followed the gurney around the side of the house to the hearse waiting in the driveway.

A dozen neighbors, most of them retirees and stay-at-home moms pushing strollers, had gathered near the front yard, which he’d also taped off. Three television news trucks were now parked in the street with reporters lingering close by. Soon the rain would drive them all back inside their homes and vans, but for now he had to contend with an audience.

Zack eyed the crowd, paying close attention to the people’s expressions. Killers sometimes returned to the scene to witness the chaos created by their handiwork.

As the body was wheeled through the privacy fence gate, everyone’s gaze shifted toward it. Film camerasstarted taping and following the body. Even some neighbors snapped photos. By this evening, the area would be crawling with curiosity seekers.

Zack had spoken to the police department’s public relations officer and told him to ask the press to keep the address and location of Sanctuary a secret. For now, the reporters had agreed. If he could close this case sooner than later, the press would move on to their next story and Sanctuary would be forgotten.

He wanted to protect the shelter. Not only would it be a shame to lose it as a resource, but the place meant so much to Lindsay. When they’d been together, she’d just received the grant application to purchase the property. She had been so excited and had spent long days fixing up the place and transforming it from a run-down rental property into a place that felt like a real home. A month after she’d opened the place, they’d separated and he’d not seen the house since then.

Now, looking at this place, he could see how much work she’d done. She’d had the exterior repainted and she’d replanted the yard, which had been a dust bowl when she’d bought the property. There were traces of her everywhere. The brightly painted walls inside, the potted plants on the porch, the manicured lawn, and a collection of toys in the backyard testified to her commitment.

Too bad she couldn’t have invested the same time and energy into their marriage.

An unmarked Crown Vic pulled up in front of the house. In the front seat sat Zack’s boss, Captain David Ayden, and Zack’s partner, Jacob Warwick.

Annoyed, Zack checked his watch. It had taken Ayden two hours to track Warwick down. Warwick had been on the State Police force for thirteen years, before taking a job with the county’s homicide division two years ago. Ayden had paired Zack with Warwick, believing the two would make a good team. Professionally, they did just fine, but personally, they’d not hit it off at all.

Somehow Warwick had found out about Zack’s drinking problem and had made it clear he didn’t think drunks stayed sober long. Zack could be a hothead who had no trouble sharing his thoughts. But this time he had swallowed his frustration. His drinking had caused a lot of damage, and he knew actions, not words, were going to win his partner over. That had been ten months ago, and so far, he’d not impressed Warwick.

Ayden got out of the car. His muscular build hadn’t softened in the last couple of years even though he logged more time behind the desk than he would have liked. His thick hair grayed slightly at the temples and deep frown lines marred his forehead. He was a stubborn guy who had seen his late wife through cancer and now was raising two teenage boys on his own. He had little patience and didn’t like being jerked around.

Warwick followed Ayden toward the house. He was built like a wide receiver and carried himself like an athlete. But football hadn’t been his sport. Boxing was his specialty. As a teenager, he’d been a Golden Gloves fighter before entering the army, where he’d been in the Special Forces.

Today, Warwick was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, asign that Ayden had cut his vacation short. Normally Warwick leaned toward sports jackets and khakis. His hair looked in need of a trim, and though he was clean shaven, he’d have a five o’clock shadow by three.

Warwick nodded to Zack but the men didn’t shake hands. ‘Kier.’

‘Warwick.’

‘Can you give us a rundown on the murder?’ Ayden said.

‘Follow me. I’ll walk you through what we know right now.’

Zack led the two men to the backyard, pulled a notepad from his breast pocket. Sara was by the back fence shooting more pictures. ‘The body was discovered over by the trash cans. He was shot point-blank in the chest. A wallet found in the victim’s pocket identified him as Harold Turner.’

A hiss of air escaped Warwick’s lips. ‘Damn. Are you sure it’s him?’

‘I don’t have a print match yet but it’s Harold,’ Zack said.

Ayden rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. ‘Any ideas on who might have done this?’

---