"Corner of Dowling and Clinton after sunset."
I thanked him for the information and gave him a card. I told him to get in touch if he thought of anything else.
Brenda examined the remains, and her crew removed Wade from the dumpster and bagged the body. They transferred him to a gurney and loaded him into the back of the medical examiner's van.
Brenda joined us and said, “FYI, I was able to pull trace DNA from Polly Madison’s fingernails, as well as a few hairs. Hopefully, they aren’t too degraded. I also recovered a fiber from Sydney Hollister. I’ll let you know when I have confirmation.” She exhaled, then added, “If people would quit dying, I could catch up.”
Brenda walked back to the van, climbed in with her team, and drove away.
Paris and her crew filmed all of the gory footage. She approached us as we walked back to the Porsche. "Deputy Wild, have you ID’d the victim?”
She knew I couldn’t answer that.
"I can't comment at this time. If anyone in the area saw anything, please contact the Coconut County Sheriff's Department."
I stepped out of frame and continued toward the Porsche.
We hopped into the car and set out to find Shane. This news was going to hit hard.
I was mad. Mad at him and mad at whoever did this.
We drove to Wade's house, parked at the curb, and hopped out. The gate squealed as we pushed through and walked to theporch. I banged a heavy fist against the door. "Shane! Open up. It's Tyson.”
The sun had just crested the horizon. I figured Shane had just gone to bed.
I banged on the door until I heard footsteps stagger down the foyer.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Shane grumbled.
He unlatched the deadbolt and pulled open the door a moment later, wiping the sleep from his puffy eyes, looking hungover. "Couldn’t this have waited until a reasonable hour?”
23
Shane’s face reddened, and the veins in his neck and forehead pulsed. His hands clenched into fists, and his eyes welled. Rage swelled like a tropical storm. "You found him in a fucking dumpster!?"
I nodded.
Shane paced around like a maniac, on the verge of erupting. He grumbled multiple obscenities.
"Do you know who did this?" I asked.
He glared at me. "No. How am I supposed to know who did this? That's your job. How about you start doing it?"
He was upset and lashing out.
I let it roll off. "I think it's time you come clean."
"Come clean about what?”
"The heist at the Vault.”
That caught his attention. "What heist?”
I scoffed. "Knock it off. You know damn good and well what I'm talking about."
"No, Tyson. I don't.”
"So, someone just randomly shot Wade twice and dumped him in the warehouse district for no reason? His wallet wasn't taken. His cash wasn't taken. His watch was still on his wrist. Somebody wanted him dead."
