Chapter Nine Brad
Chapter Nine
Brad
“Heading out already? Didn’t you just get home?
” Ronnie asked as I tucked in my T-shirt, then glanced in the hall mirror and adjusted my hat to fit just right over my wet hair.
“Damn, I love that goal!” Ronnie was in the La-Z-Boy watching a rerun of last year’s Stanley Cup Finals, with his buddy Hayne on the sofa across the room.
Though he had his own place, he spent almost all his time with Mom and Dad.
They loved it, and I think he needed it.
“Hey.” Hayne waved a beer at me.
Christ, it’s barely noon. “Hey.” I didn’t like Hayne, but he’d been overseas with Ronnie, and they shared a bond. He just rubbed me the wrong way. He was sleazy and had a way of gaslighting people without them realizing it. “Heard you got lead detective on that nightclub case.”
“I did.”
“Anything new?”
I checked the time. “Nothing I can talk about.”
“That’s what you have to say, but when you’re talking to someone like me . . .” He leaned his head to the side like he was more important. I fought not to roll my eyes.
“What puts you above everyone else?” I shot back, and Ronnie gave him a look to lay off.
“Brad.” Bree was suddenly in the entryway of the house. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Ginger ran over and nearly jumped into her arms. Ginger had never behaved like that with Sherry. Bree bent down and showered her with rubs and kisses.
“Has it been an hour? I thought we were meeting at your place.” I replayed her words in my head. “My phone? Sorry, it’s on the charger.”
Hayne drained the rest of his beer, and I saw him glance at Bree. “Who’s that?” he asked my brother.
“Brad’s coworker.” Ronnie raised his voice. “Hey, Bree,” he called, “how are ya?”
“Good, thanks.” She stepped up into the house and stopped for a second as she saw Hayne.
I snagged my phone off the charger in the hall and held it up for her to see.
I tapped the screen and saw she’d called twice.
There were also a few text messages from her, plus one from Wes and one from Captain.
“Bree, is it?” Hayne came over and offered a hand. “I’m Hayne.”
“Hi.” Bree flipped her glossy brown hair over her shoulder. “Are you a friend of the family’s?”
“Ronnie and I did a couple tours together,” he answered her. “Seen a lot over there. Makes you wanna stick with each other once you’re back.” He shook his leg when Ginger moved to sniff at his boot.
“Here, girl.” Bree had picked up on Hayne’s body language and pulled my pup back to her. She kept her hand on Ginger’s back as she leaned her hip into the doorway. “I could only imagine. If it counts, thank you for your service.”
“It counts.” Hayne grinned. I rolled my eyes at his flirty tone as I held my phone to my ear. The ringing stopped, and Captain’s voicemail kicked in.
Hayne continued to talk to Bree. “So, what brings you knocking today?”
“Need to see Brad and apparently Ginger.” She babied my pup, then looked at me, and I held up a finger while I tried Wes. “Why are you calling them when I know what the news is?” Her hand went to her hip, and Hayne seemed entertained at her sass. Ginger sat at her feet and looked at me too.
“They called, and I was returning their calls,” I muttered, then left a quick voicemail for Wes that I’d get the details from Bree.
“We need to go.” I rushed over and snagged her arm and practically dragged her out the front door. I didn’t need Hayne sinking his claws into someone like Bree.
“What the hell, Brad!” She fought to find her footing as I hurried us down the walk. I felt raindrops hit my face, and I knew a downpour was coming.
“Do we need to head into town, or can we work with whatever Wes gave us from here?” I ignored her pissed-off expression.
“He emailed us everything.” She looked over her shoulder. “I have some paperwork laid out in my cabin that’ll help us.”
“Good.” I steered her toward the path, and we sped up as a clap of thunder shook the ground. Suddenly, a shriek from the bushes made Bree jump right into my arms as we both had a collective heart attack—until a familiar snout and set of beady eyes appeared.
“Kevin!” Bree screamed at the pig and quickly tore herself from my arms. “Damn you, little porker. You’d look mighty fine on a sandwich, you little shit!
” The little shit in question just squealed again and raced off.
The last thing I saw was his little curly tail as he disappeared.
“I know he gets some sick thrill out of trying to stop my heart.” She positively fumed.
I had to turn away so she wouldn’t see how funny I found the whole situation.
“Come on, the rain’s coming.” I took her hand and pulled her along. Just as we reached her cabin’s covered porch, the rain began. “Phew.” Bree blew out a breath. “That was close. I’d hate to have to change again.”
Kevin suddenly appeared as the rain eased a little, and I swore he had a grin on his face.
“Is it bad to wish that the heavens would open and rain so heavy it’d sweep that little sucker into the lake?
” Bree whispered hopefully. We watched as he strutted up the drive toward the sound of a truck.
Bree’s dad, Jacob, rolled up and opened the door.
The little porker made a run for it and jumped inside with Jacob’s help.
“That right there’s the problem. He thinks he’s a dog. ”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at her expression.
“Bradley.” Jacob waved. “How are you?”
“Well, sir, and how about you?”
“Good.” He squinted at the sky. “Gonna rain heavy here soon. You two working?”
“Yes, sir.”
Her father looked at Bree, who had her arms folded tightly around her. “Who pissed in your cereal, darlin’?”
She scoffed. “Your demon sidekick is determined to give me a heart attack.” I pressed my lips together when Kevin put his hooves up on the car window to look out at us. “Why can’t you just love our Finley and not waste it on that soon-to-be appetizer?”
“I’ll have you know Kevin’s won two county fairs and one state.” He reached over and patted the ugly thing. “Maybe if you gave him a chance, you’d see he’s not that bad.”
“Hang out with Kevin Bacon? Unless he can teach me some dance moves from Footloose, I’m not interested.” Bree shivered as the wind blew across us.
“Well, up to you. I’m glad to see you two together again. You best get inside now.” He looked up at the sky, and I saw Bree scowl at the pig.
The heavens opened, and the rain came down in a sudden sheet, and with the help of the wind, we were soaked. I grabbed Bree’s hand, and we raced inside.
Bree went to grab a towel as I peeled off my wet shirt and hung it on the back of a chair to dry. I put my shoulder holster on the side table. I’d learned to carry it with me at all times, as I was really never off duty. I bent down and began to build a fire.
“No,” I heard Bree exclaim behind me. I turned and caught her glare. “No way, I can’t do this again.”
“Do what?” I stepped back as the flame took off on the kindling.
“We need to find you a shirt.” She opened up a drawer and started to dig. “There is only so much a woman can take, and because the world hates me and decided that double-A batteries can’t be stocked here, I need to set boundaries.”
“Boundaries?”
“Yes, boundaries with you and”—she raked her gaze down my front—“all that.”
I joined her as she pulled out a tube top. “That’s funny.” I took it from her and tossed it back in the drawer. “Can we talk about Wes now?”
“Brad,” she groaned. “All right, fine.” She pulled back the curtains to expose her giant whiteboard. She had put up the photos of both victims, Shelly and Maggie, and had notes beneath them.
“Someone’s been busy.” I went over to examine her work, as she had done a lot since the last time I’d seen it. “And Wes?” I plucked one of the markers off the ledge and added a few more things I knew about the case.
“Right.” She pulled her phone from her purse. “Wes said”—she swiped the screen a few times—“that the drug found in both victims was confirmed to be butterfly root moss.”
“Okay, we knew that already, but we don’t know how much or how deadly.”
She nodded. “Right, and he said there was four milligrams in each victim. It’s as potent as fentanyl.” She glanced at me. “You don’t need more than a few grains of fentanyl to take a person out, so it’s like major overkill.”
“Interesting.” I let my head go with it.
“I agree, and Wes said that they found traces of it in their noses, throats, and lungs.”
“They’re inhaling it, not ingesting it.” I studied the girls’ photos and internally played out what I thought had happened.
“Seems that way.” Bree squinted at her phone. “Wes said that, given the amount in their systems, the girls had only seconds before they felt the effects and minutes before they died.”
“Okay, so he’s comparing it to fentanyl, which is a hundred times stronger than morphine and fifty times stronger than heroin,” I thought out loud. “If these women are being blasted with that much butterfly root moss, he made it a quick death.”
She scoffed. “How big of him.”
“Mm-hmm.” I added Wes’s findings to the board and stood back, letting it all sink in.
“But what this gives us is a time between an inhale and death.” She turned on her TV.
I saw it was connected to her laptop. “Nice setup.” I smiled.
“Can you bring up the footage? Maybe we can start to eliminate those from outside those two minutes.”
“Okay.” Bree hit a few buttons on her laptop, and the surveillance video of Shelly White popped up.
“Fast forward to just before she gets to the bar.” She did, and we watched. “Somewhere around here, she’d be inhaling it.” I leaned forward on the couch and studied everyone who was close to her.