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He pointed upward and André saw a little round security camera mounted on the corner of one of the containers.
“I got sick of kids and or assholes spray-painting and trying to break in for shits and giggles. Got a notification last night that there was movement around them. It was raining like a horse taking a long piss at the time, so I decided to take the loss and come out when the weather calmed down.”
Horse pissing was a new one. André filed it away for future use.
“Did you notice anything unusual when you arrived?”
“Other than a body wrapped in a tarp? No.”
“Did you touch anything other than the edge of the tarp?”
Rufus shot him a scandalized look. “Hell no. I’ve watched enough TV to know better.”
“I suppose I should take a look.” André didn’t intend to sound put upon. Whoever it was hadn’t wrapped themselves in the most ubiquitous tarp on the West Coast—possibly the country—and left themselves there. Plus, he had a sinking feeling he might know who they were going to find. There was a reason Trent hadn’t been answering his calls.
Pulling on a pair of plastic gloves, André crouched down to grasp the edge of the non-shoe end of the tarp. He pulled at it until he could see the victim’s head clearly. What was left of it anyway.
Someone had shot Lionel Trent point-blank from close range. He’d never been a handsome man and the gunshot hadn’t done him any favors. There wasn’t much left of the back of his head, but his face was undamaged enough for an ID.
“Lionel Trent?” Rufus asked. “Looks like him.”
André nodded and rose to his feet. “It appears so. I need to call Deputy Cooper in.”
Tapping his radio, he called Lani.
“Deputy Cooper,” Lani said when she picked up.
“I’m with Rufus at his er-storage lot and we’ve discovered a DB.”
“We’ll be right there.”
Dante wasn’t a crime scene investigator, but it would be good to have a third pair of eyes.
“I never liked Trent,” Rufus said quietly. “But I didn’t wish harm on him.” He shrugged and met André’s gaze again. “I maybe wished he’d move to Florida, so I never had to lay eyes on him again, but never this.”
André wouldn’t be surprised if that was how most people in town felt about Trent. He wondered what the sister’s reaction was going to be. He hadn’t wanted Trent on the force but, like Rufus, André hadn’t wished him bodily harm.
“We’ll drop by and take your statement. There’s no need to hang out in this weather. Please don’t say anything because we still need to notify family.”
Taking the hint, Rufus got back into his car and drove off. André had little hope that Trent’s death could be kept a secret. Likely a good number of townspeople already knew André had been called out—even if he wasn’t driving an official vehicle.
After taking a few pictures of the tarp and the exposed bits of Trent, André made another call and then leaned back against his Jeep. The storm turned the volume to eleven and the rain began falling like what? An elephant pissing? He tugged the slicker’s hood over his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, preparing himself to wait the three minutes it would take for Lani and Dante to arrive with the evidence kit in the truck of the cruiser.
Lani stared down at the corpse while Dante came around to stand next to André.
“Damn,” Lani said.
“My thoughts exactly,” agreed André. “I’ve already called the coroner’s office. George will be here as soon as he can.”
“I don’t like this,” Dante said.
Aside from lifting the tarp, André had not moved the body. “He wasn’t killed here,” he said.
“Are you sure, with the way it’s been raining?” Lani wondered.
“Not enough blood on the inside of the tarp,” André said. “He was killed somewhere else and dumped here. Was he dumped here for us to find, or was it chance? We may have lucked out with Rufus having eyes on the property.”
Instinctively, André glanced around again. Was it his imagination? He felt like they were being watched. His neck and the middle of his back had a phantom itch. Likely, it was the residents of the neighborhood wondering what was going on.
