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Elliot searched Kay’s eyes. “That’s okay, we’ll take this.” He dropped the keys to his Interceptor in Farrell’s hand and climbed onto the ATV.
The road was bumpy and turned more treacherous by the minute, with loose boulders and a narrowing profile adding to the challenges of an increasingly steep grade. After several minutes, that seemed more like hours, they reached the scene.
The three young men were dressed almost identically in the type of hipster, overpriced imitation of mountain logger attire one could only find in San Francisco’s posh malls. They sat on a large, moss-covered boulder under the vigilant gaze of Deputy Leach from traffic. Sheriff Logan had pulled everyone to the crime scene, including the thin, mousy-looking deputy who irritated Elliot like mustard on a raw burn.
One of the suspects had fared much worse than the other two. His exposed shaved chest was scratched, bruised, and bleeding. The unbuttoned plaid shirt in red, gray, and black was stained with vomit and blood and torn in several places.
“He found the body?” Elliot asked, gesturing with his head.
“Found it?” Leach scoffed and gave Elliot an all-knowing, slightly arrogant look. “He’s the one who put that poor girl down there.”
“Is that so?” Kay said quietly, studying the three. “Who was first on scene?”
“Novack,” Leach replied, sucking his teeth.
Thank goodness for small miracles, Elliot thought. Leach couldn’t hit the floor if he fell out of bed; there was a reason why the man had been working traffic for his entire career. But Novack had a brain and knew how to use it.
Kay seemed to agree; her face lit up slightly as she walked toward the senior deputy.
“Detective,” he greeted her with a stern voice. His eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Novack had a brain but needed to learn some manners. Elliot would’ve loved to teach him some.
Unfazed, Kay ignored the offhand comment. “Walk me through the scene.”
Novack flipped open his notepad. “Call came in at nine seventeen this morning,” he mumbled, following the scribbled notes with his finger. “I was here at ten fifteen. I found those two jokers on the edge of the ravine, trying to pull the third one out using a tree branch.”
SEVEN
DETAILS
Kay walked to the edge of the ravine and looked down. The body was barely visible at the bottom, shielded from view by several firs and shrubs. Blue harebells rose above the grasses, swaying slightly in the summer breeze. Something moved at the base of the ravine, barely visible through all the greenery, only specks of white between the wind-rustled leaves.
“The ME’s down there,” Novack said as if reading her mind. “He wouldn’t wait for the fire truck. We lowered him with the boss’s ATV winch.” He shot the three cuffed youngsters a glance and curled his lip. “Doc said that one fucked up the scene badly. Peed and barfed on that body, emptied himself real good. Bet he had a blast down there, with that girl.” He placed his notebook into his pocket and propped his hands on his hips, sliding his thumbs under his belt.
Perhaps Novack would be less obnoxious if he’d bothered to ask himself one question: if the perp has peed on the victim as part of his homicidal ritual, why did he do that with his pants on, all zipped up? The stain marking the young man’s jeans told a different story. He’d peed himself out of fear or shock.
Kay didn’t vocally disagree with Novack, still examining the body from the edge of the ravine. “What’s their story?”
“They said the tall one, Bryan Danko, was trying to recover his phone when he slipped, fell into the ravine, and discovered the body. Then they called nine-one-one.” He pushed his sunglasses higher up his nose with a finger. “I think they panicked when the Danko kid couldn’t climb back out of the ravine, and that’s why they called. I read them their rights.” He grinned with an air of superiority. “You’re welcome, Detectives.”
Elliot’s lips stretched into a quick smile, probably anticipating Kay’s reaction to the deputy’s decision to call the case solved.
But Kay’s mind went in a different direction. “Do you have a positive ID on the victim?”
“Not yet,” he replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, visibly annoyed.
“Time of death?”
“N—no. Doc’s still down there.”
“Are these men local?”
“Nope, they’re on a three-day slide from San Fran with Daddy’s money.” His voice was loaded with unfiltered disdain, the kind that poisons someone’s mind leaving it rusted and darkened as if it had been wrought in fire, unable to see past the hate.
Kay walked toward the three young men, and Elliot followed. The tallest one seemed the oldest, but not by much. He was calm, composed, patiently waiting for the situation to resolve. Kay could tell that man wasn’t afraid; just slightly worried, and that was probably because he hadn’t done anything wrong. His jeans were clean; there wasn’t a bloodstain anywhere on his clothes or hands, and the same went for the third man. Those two had never set foot in the ravine.
“Uncuff them,” Kay told the deputy, looking at him intently. Hesitating for a moment, he decided to comply without argument.Smart man, Kay thought, grateful she didn’t have to get into an argument with the deputy.
