Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Later that day, Duke drove them into the office where they could wait for Kelly to deliver the can she’d promised to bring. Ferd flipped through Bailey’s file, looking for anything that stood out, either as present or missing.
Duke’s phone rang and he picked it up. “Hello.”
She waited, listening in as best she could.
The voice scratched over the line, hard to hear even in the quiet room. “We got the preliminary lab results back on the blood under Bailey’s fingernails. It was from a male, but not one in our database. So, he’s never been arrested for a violent crime.”
Never? Now they could cross the women off their list of prime suspects.
Duke said, “I find that hard to believe, though. This was a crime of passion. His face was bashed in. So, more likely someone he knew well, not a stranger or thief.”
Ferd relaxed and let her vision blur the words together on the page in front of her. Who, of all the people they'd spoken to, was both angry enough with Bailey to beat and kill him and happened to be a man?
“Yeah. I’ll bring the can over when it’s delivered here later this morning. I’ll need you to run fingerprints and DNA if you can get any.”
Couldn’t be Paul, his boss and landlord.
He had nothing against Bailey and had immediately cooperated with the investigation.
However, he did have keys to Bailey’s apartment, meaning he could’ve staged evidence to make someone else look guilty.
Like Heath and Kevin. Those two had faded as suspects, but after finding the note, seemed like the most likely culprits or possible witnesses.
They had to know about Bailey’s boat for the note he left to make sense.
Duke hung up and set his phone down. “The lab doesn’t have anything new for us yet, except that the blood belonged to a man.
I guess that means all of our female suspects are off the hook.
Unless they paid to have him killed, and I don’t think even his ex with her extravagant tastes could afford that. ”
Ferd drummed her fingers. “I feel like we’re missing something.”
An officer knocked on the door jamb. “This was left for you by Kelly Whilhelm. She said you’d know what it was about and she didn’t want to stick around to talk. Seemed nervous.”
Duke took the gallon-sized zipper bag. “Thank you. I’m not surprised she didn’t want to stay. I’ll take it over.”
“Good. I was worried I'd get handed that job. That's the last drive I want to make today. I’d have to stay late to get there and back.” The officer shook his head. “I had plans. Staying late wasn’t one of them.”
Ferd closed the file and pushed it toward Duke so he could lock it up while they were gone. If they had to drive all the way to Cheyenne and back, they couldn’t talk to anyone else that day.
Duke locked his desk and the file. Then, while Duke put the evidence in a paper bag and labeled it, Ferd grabbed her purse.
“See anything that I missed?” He closed the blinds, checked over his desk one more time, then shut off the light.
“No, though I’ve never done any sort of investigative training. I was still doing my rookie hours back in Cody. So, I’m still learning what to look for.”
He walked with her down the hall. “What do you like about working there?”
She kept pace with him, but the silence stretched.
She couldn’t think of one thing. Her direct sergeant wasn’t remarkable in either a bad or good way.
He just was. Because she'd thought Hunter would always be there, she'd spent the last few years growing and learning instead of forming the camaraderie most of the others had. He’d managed to find his place in their ecosystem where she hadn’t. I didn’t fit in there, either.
“I don’t know that I do. Do you love working for Piper’s Ridge?” She hated the edge to her voice because she suspected she knew the answer.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s still a job, but this is what I’ve always wanted to do.”
He pulled his keys from his pocket and clicked the button to unlock his truck doors. The lights flashed as the security system disengaged. Gunfire exploded. Metal clanked as holes appeared in the front panel. No! Not again!
“Ferd! Take cover!”
This time he wasn’t by her side to pull her into the grass. Her heart beat in her throat as she dove between two parked squads, too far away from Duke to help. She drew her Glock and kept her finger along the frame. Do I have what it takes to use it if I have to?
In the distance, she heard Duke calling for backup. Seconds later, three groups of two men came out in teams, guns drawn, covering the whole area.
“Shots came from my four o’clock,” Duke said.
From just behind him on his right. Meaning the shooter had to be a few vehicles away from her. Would he come and find her? She glanced over her shoulder, searching for shadows or anything that moved. Her hands shook. If someone startled her now . . . She shoved the Glock back into its holster.
“Clear!” she heard the volley of shouts all around the parking lot. Then silence.
Whoever had shot at them had gotten away.