AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Here you go, sheriff,” Carter said, handing Jack another evidence bag. “Nine-millimeter.”
“That’s what I thought,” Jack said. “Sounded like a MAC-10.”
“So we have two shooters?” I asked. “A guy with a sniper rifle and a guy driving a black SUV not hitting a single person with a semiautomatic weapon.”
“A distraction,” Jack said, nodding. “Which tells us that our victim here was the real target.”
CHAPTERTHREE
“Talk about planning,”I said. “Looks like the killer really wanted to make a statement.”
“He’s showing off,” Jack said. “Picked a crowded place, and it would’ve been a challenging shot, especially with how close this guy was cozied up to the red dress. So the killer’s got training. Maybe military. Though he would’ve been trained to go for center mass instead of the head shot. But again, he’s showing off. He even knew what kind of rounds to use so the bullet didn’t kill anyone else on the pass-through.”
“And he just hires a guy for the drive-by to cause chaos so he can get the shot off?” I asked.
“Something like that,” Jack agreed. “Martinez!”
Martinez handed off the interview he was in the middle of to another cop and jogged toward us.
“What’s up?” Martinez said.
“Hollow point .308,” Jack said, showing him the bag.
“Sniper,” Martinez said, raising his brows and letting out a whistle. “Ballsy.”
“Take a team and canvas the area,” Jack said. “See if you can pinpoint where the shot originated from.”
“On it,” Martinez said, calling out names of the officers he wanted to go with him.
I squatted down next to David Sowers and inspected the entry and exit wounds. I knew I’d find fragments of the bullet inside his brain when I did the autopsy. That’s what Jack had meant about the killer knowing the kind of rounds to use so no one else was killed. The hollow point bullet went in small and then came apart once it made impact, basically scrambling the brain like eggs until it exited, making a big mess on the way out as it ran out of steam.
I checked his pockets and came away with a wallet, which I handed over to Jack, a wedding ring, cell phone, a monogrammed money clip holding at least a thousand dollars, and a prescription bottle.
“What’s that?” Lily asked.
“Performance enhancement,” I said. “Guess he decided he didn’t need it tonight.”
“Why do you say that?” Lily asked.
“Because he’d still be ready for the party, even in death,” I told her. “I haven’t found any car keys.”
“He probably valeted it,” Jack said. “Anything else?”
“Fountain pen in the shirt pocket,” I said. Then I reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small vial half full of white powder.
“Well, well,” I said, holding it up so Jack could see. “What do you think?”
“I think he had big plans for the night, and we need to talk to his lady friend,” he said, and then he took the victim’s wallet out of the bag. “ID says his name is David Michael Sowers. Age sixty-one. Has a King George address. I’ll have one of the guys run his license and pull up his plates so we can find his car.”
“We know just from watching him he’ll be over the legal limit of alcohol,” I said. “But it’ll be interesting to see what else he’s got in his system. His clothes are expensive. Designer label suit and shoes.”
“I’ll add to our wager and put money down that he’s an attorney,” Lily said. “Probably a regular here. Easy enough for his staff or co-workers to walk over from the courthouse, and it’s far enough away from King George Proper that his wife probably won’t check up on him. I was right about that, by the way. Him being married, I mean.”
“Martinez is going to be sad,” I said. “He hates losing.”
“Then he should never bet against me.” Lily grinned. “I know things. I come from a long line of medicine women. My grandmother could clear up syphilis or make your hair fall out, depending on how well she liked you. And how much you paid her,” Lily said, winking.
I laughed and then checked the tissue around the nose and inside the nostrils. “Evident inflammation of the mucous membranes and some broken capillaries. I’ll check for needle marks, but he seems like a high-end junkie. They typically don’t like to inject. Let’s get him bagged up and back to the lab.”
