Chapter 4 #2
Cal shook his head to stop that line of thought.
She might be sexy and engaging with her sassy retorts, but he needed to maintain his professionalism.
He needed to look closer at her history, her social connections, her family.
He couldn’t find a social media profile other than an out-of-date and apparently unused Instagram account.
Further searching took him to an Idaho high school’s website.
She’d graduated early…with honors. The school’s website also listed an Abby Bailey, who definitely had to be related, based on her picture.
Same high cheekbones, pert nose and bright green eyes.
Going back to his original page of search results, he scrolled down, looking for more tidbits about Jules Bailey.
An hour later he’d found that she’d won the science fair in fifth grade at a school outside Seattle, had been listed as a surviving daughter of a Julian Bailey, age 56, who died in Pocatello in 2020 and…
most interestingly, had been arrested for contempt of court two years ago in Portland.
Cal scratched his chin and tried to make sense of the incongruous bits of knowledge. Jules was clearly highly intelligent, yet she’d left her graduate program in Canada to move to North Dakota and work in a gift shop. She seemed to be a model student yet had been cited with contempt of court?
He chuckled remembering her snarky attitude. Maybe he could understand this, especially if she’d run up against a judge with no patience or sense of humor. But why had she been in court to begin with? The court record didn’t say.
Yep. He definitely wanted to ask Jules a few more questions.
But…because he suspected her of something related to the death of the man near the gift shop or because he was intrigued by the mysterious and sharp-tongued gift shop manager?
The tingle that skittered over his flesh when he thought about the attractive woman would suggest his interest was personal.
But he also couldn’t deny the fact that her schooling in chemistry, in Canada, her seemingly random move to Red Grove and her proximity to the scene of a presumably drug-related death were all too coincidental for his comfort.
He wouldn’t bother Wyatt with his hunch unless his private investigation uncovered anything more incriminating. But he would talk to her again.
He shut down his computer and headed out of the office.
As he climbed into his county-issued Jeep, he decided to swing by his house and pick up his dog, Pilot.
Though Pilot, a golden Labrador retriever, had been retired from the SAR program after years of service, the old boy still had a keen nose and good instincts.
In fact, Pilot had done so well when he’d originally trained in search and rescue, Cal had him trained in cadaver detection as well.
He’d let Pilot have a sniff around the Geese in Flight sculpture and surrounding area and see what, if anything, he turned up. Not that Cal thought the local forensics team had done shoddy work, but… just in case.
Cal scoffed at his flimsy justification. Okay. He wanted to see Jules again because he was attracted to her and was curious what made her tick. There. At least he could be honest with himself.
He called Wyatt, told him his plan to take Pilot to the crime scene and got the go-ahead. “The forensics team has gotten what they need, but, of course, the area is still cordoned off so—”
“Way ahead of you, little brother. I knew how to preserve a crime scene before you were a wet-behind-the-ears rookie. I’ll be mindful and share anything of note with you.
” He scratched his chin and asked, “Speaking of the investigation, I know it’s early hours, but…
do you have anything yet? An ID on the victim? An estimated time of death? Anything?”
“As a matter of fact, the ID was a simple matter, because the guy was in the system.”
Cal perked up. “Do tell.”
“Dude’s name is John Harper,” Wyatt said. “He’s a known drug mule who likes to sample the product. He’s been a guest of the state twice and only got out a couple weeks ago from his last stay at the James River facility.”
Cal mulled the news for a moment. “Sounds like he wasted no time returning to his old habits. Maybe got sideways with somebody higher up the chain?”
“Everything is on the table. We’ll follow where the leads take us.”
Cal rose from his desk chair and headed out of his office. “Well, anyway…if Pilot finds anything of note, I’ll give you a ring.”
“You better. I’d hate to have to lock you up for obstruction or hindering an investigation,” Wyatt said.
Cal snorted a laugh. “Buffalo patties! You’d like nothing better than an excuse to put me in a cell for a few hours.”
His brother’s answering chuckle filtered through the phone connection. “You’re right. That would be kinda fun. Got any unpaid parking tickets, man?”
“I’ll never tell. Later, bro.” Cal disconnected, grinning to himself.
A few minutes later, with Pilot wiggling excitedly and thrashing his tail against the Jeep’s front seat, Cal headed back out to the zero mile post on the Enchanted Highway.
Yellow crime scene tape marked off the area around the base of the Geese in Flight sculpture and fluttered in the light breeze.
Closed signs and sawhorses warned tourists away from stopping at the first sculpture on the scenic highway.
Cal maneuvered around the barriers and parked at the edge of the small lot.
Pilot bounded out of the Jeep, and his canine nose instantly sniffed the air, the ground, the scrub brush.
Callum gave the order to search, and Pilot’s whole body seemed to tense as he visibly shifted into work mode.
Within seconds, Pilot was at the foot of the sculpture where the body had been found and had a sniff around the crime scene.
His dog promptly sat and gave a distinctive bark that said, “I found something.”
“You’ve still got it, ol’ boy. Good job.
” He praised Pilot and rewarded him with a good scratch behind the ears and a chunk of his favorite kibble.
“Now let’s expand the perimeter.” He gave his dog the command to search again and followed as Pilot went to work beyond the spot where John Harper’s body had been found.
If Harper had been killed somewhere close by and the body moved, would there be decaying traces of blood the forensics team had missed this morning?
Or, more significantly, had anyone else been killed last night, before or after Harper had been?
The second guy that Jules Bailey had seen in her shop, for instance.
Had he run afoul of the same person who killed John Harper, or had the guy in the UNLV hoodie been the one doling out the lethal violence?
He followed Pilot as his dog sniffed his way across the parking lot, then wandered into the short dry grass.
His dog’s heightened sense of smell took him on a meandering path, and he paused now and then for a longer sniff before moving on.
While Pilot searched, Cal scanned the area for visible clues.
Crushed grass that could indicate a body had been dragged, footprints in the dust, or—
He stopped, his gaze snagging on something odd at the back edge of the lot behind the gift shop. At first, it looked like a pile of trash, but as he got closer he realized what he was seeing.