Chapter 25 Howl
Howl
Jasper was dead because of me.
Through the highway patrol, I learned that the accident was suspicious as hell.
Jasper’s van was found flipped on its side in a ditch.
The van had caught fire and burned. It had happened on one of those empty patches of road where there were only trees and highway and the moon.
A truck driver had seen the fire and radioed for assistance.
There wasn’t any way to determine if Jasper had died on impact or in the fire, highway patrol said.
Skid marks suggested that another vehicle was involved, but that wasn’t conclusive.
The van had burned down to the axles. The rubber from the tires had melted into the pavement.
Highway patrol suggested that an accelerant might have been used.
There was precious little to examine, but they promised they would do a full investigation.
I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to imagine that…Jasper, injured in an accident…and then burned alive.
I suggested that they look into Vapozene, told them Jasper had been investigating Vapozene poisoning and was en route to EPA.
The patrol was very interested in this information, promising to coordinate with both me and Jasper’s contact with EPA.
As it stood, they’d be pulling in the state Bureau of Criminal Investigation.
It sounded like Jasper’s death was going to get some scrutiny, at least.
I wasn’t going to let it be for nothing.
I turned away to feel the heat of the sun on my face. Sun and wrath.
—
I hadn’t been able to get ahold of Sykes, who was supposed to be watching Lister; or Calvert, who was babysitting Sumner. I needed to know if they had eyes on the two of them last night, or if the remaining Kings of Warsaw Creek had hired local meth heads to take down Jasper.
Monica was grilling every tweaker Rod Matthews could finger. Somebody would crack, would confess to killing Jasper—I hoped.
I pulled into the sheriff’s office parking lot and made my way to my desk. I hadn’t been home to change clothes or wash the dog. Gibby slipped under my desk, sighing his exhaustion. On my blotter there was a sticky note with SEE ME written in the chief’s handwriting.
When Chief used capital letters, things weren’t good.
I stopped by the chief’s secretary’s desk. Judy handed me a chocolate from her secret stash of candy. She did that only when shit was about to go down. She also handed me a wet wipe from her desk. “Here.”
Though I was dry now, I realized I was rumpled and there was mud in my hair. I looked like I’d been out on a three-day bender.
She pointed to a streak of mud on my cheek, and I dutifully cleaned it off and tied my hair into what I thought was a neater ponytail.
She nodded at me.
I wolfed down the chocolate, thanked her, squared my shoulders, and knocked on Chief’s door.
“Come in.”
My heart sank. Chief was behind his desk.
The sheriff was in one of the club chairs opposite Chief’s desk, and Cortland, Sumner’s attorney, was in the other.
Calvert and Sykes from Vice were standing at attention with their hands behind their backs, which would’ve been fine for marines, but looked ridiculous for a couple guys in Tom Hardy T-shirts.
“Jasper’s dead,” I blurted quietly.
Chief closed his eyes. “I know. I just got off the phone with the FD.”
“He was a good man,” the sheriff rumbled. “A true public servant.”
I scanned the rest of the room, lifting a brow. What the fuck were they doing here?
Chief said quietly, “Jeff Sumner discovered his tail last night and confronted Vice. He’s pressing charges against the department for harassment. The estate of Quentin Sims is also alleging that you had his daughter taken from him and badgered him into suicide because of a personal vendetta.”
“Chief, I—”
Chief made a slicing motion with his hand. “This investigation is suspended, effective now. Vice is going to spend some time serving subpoenas. Koray, you’re suspended until further notice.”
My heart plummeted into my shoes. “Chief, a man was killed—”
“Enough.” Chief pointed to his desk. “Badge, radio, gun, and keys right here.”
Numbly, I put my badge, radio, gun, and keys to the El Camino on his desk.
Chief turned to Cortland. “We deeply regret any inconvenience to your client.”
Cortland stood, brushing imaginary lint off his jacket. “It will be up to civil court to determine how much your department deeply regrets its actions. I’ll be in touch.”
I looked at the sheriff. He glowered at me, then turned to Chief. “I trust you’ll handle this. I want her out of my sight forever.”
“Yes, Sheriff.”
The sheriff nodded, climbed to his feet, and lumbered to the door. On the way out he shut it quietly, which was somehow worse than a slam.
I drew breath to speak, but Chief lifted one finger. He was shaking with anger, and I instinctively recoiled. He’d never been this pissed at me before.
“Sykes, Calvert, go check with subpoenas,” he snapped.
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
“Dismissed.”
They scrambled out like chastened children, leaving me alone to face Chief’s wrath.
“I told you to go about this quietly,” he said. “And now a man is dead.”
“Chief, I’m so sorry.” It felt like it was all my fault.
“I want you to tell me why,” he insisted.
I told him what I’d found, and about Jasper. And what Sims had been doing to his daughter and the other girls.
He listened, stony faced, until I lapsed into silence.
“I need for you to leave the office. I do not want to see your face around here.”
My shoulders slumped. “Yes, sir.”
“Tell Monica to keep looking for Viv. And you go get some ironclad evidence to bring these motherfuckers down.”
I blinked at him. “But you told the sheriff—”
“I told him you were suspended. I’m telling you privately to get this case handled and nail those bastards to the wall.
Take anything you find to Monica. She can file with Judge Chamberlain for warrants—she’s the only judge in the county who will sign one against those fuckers.
Both you girls need to keep a low profile and stay the fuck out of the sheriff’s way. ”
I nodded sharply. “Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
I exited the chief’s office, stomach churning.
I hated to have caused trouble for Chief and the Vice guys, never mind what it meant for my own career.
It was very likely that I’d be out of a job entirely.
If I was found to be at fault for harassing Sumner, or worse, for Sims’s death, then my police career would effectively be over and I would be in disgrace.
Hopefully I wouldn’t be charged with a crime, but with the judges around here under Sumner’s thumb, that was a crapshoot.
Chief’s secretary passed another piece of chocolate to me.
“Thanks, Judy.”
She nodded, stood, and took the entire bag of candy into Chief’s office.
—
I slipped out to the parking lot, with Gibby trotting quietly behind me. I put on my sunglasses and jammed my hands into my pockets. I didn’t know if I wanted to scream or cry. Those fucking assholes. They were trying to destroy everyone around this case, anyway they could.
I could be a good cop and play by the rules. Go home and wait for my punishment. Accept it and go sit in a jail cell or an unemployment office.
Fuck that.
I took an Uber to the only car rental place in town and scored a silver four-door sedan smelling like air freshener. I removed the clip-on air freshener before Gibby gulped it down.
I texted Monica on my personal cell. I got suspended.
Monica called me on her personal cell. “I heard. How are you holding up?”
“Fucking bastards,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m pissed.”
“Good girl. We’ll get through this. I swear.”
I took a deep breath. “Highway patrol said Jasper was hit by another vehicle. I’m betting EPA isn’t going to send anyone else if there’s a hazard to their investigators, which I get.”
“That’s what Sumner wants, to scare everyone off.”
“Well, it’s working.”
“Listen, I talked with Forensics this morning. They’re still going through evidence from Sims’s car, but they found some stuff.”
“Tell me.”
“Working theory is that there was an electrical system malfunction. There was a recall on that vehicle about fifteen years ago, and the vehicle hadn’t been to the dealership to get the fix.
The malfunction could cause electrical surges in the system, and disrupt the cruise control.
It’s possible that there was a sudden increase in speed that the driver couldn’t control, but we can’t say that conclusively yet.
It’s more likely that the driver just lost control out of human error, or he may have committed suicide.
But that would be weird, given the luggage in the back. ”
“Right.” I was liking this line of thought better than the idea that Sims got so rattled by my questioning that he committed suicide.
“But this is where things get really weird. They found some hair in the trunk, near one of the wheel wells. It’s long, black hair that doesn’t fit with the subject. We also found bloodstains in the upholstery seams.”
“Shit.” I thought of Viv.
“I asked them to compare those against the body you found last night, and known exemplars for Dana Carson and Viv, and that stain in the basement of the Sumner house. If we get some correlation, then Judge Chamberlain will give us an arrest warrant.”
“I’m gonna bet that Sumner will throw Sims under the bus, say he did it.”
“If he knew, it’s conspiracy. We aren’t gonna let them get away with this. We just have to let the evidence connect the dots.”
I sure didn’t feel like sitting on my hands while this happened. This had become personal.
—
I headed home to change clothes and drop Gibby off.
Nick was gone, but he’d left me a note saying that he was consulting with lawyers.
I scrubbed Gibby and myself down thoroughly, then crowded into a closet with the UV light from my evidence kit.
Nothing glowed, so I figured we were okay.
Still, I was determined to watch Gibby for any effects from contaminants in the water.
He was content to crawl into bed and stretch across both our pillows.
I stepped outside, into the dry, brittle forest. I walked a good distance away from the house, seething. I should get my shit together, work on the case.
But I was pissed. I’d devoted my life to my career with the sheriff’s office. I had put my life in danger to do that work. I’d been shot, more than once. The fucking sheriff owed me more than a fucking suspension for flouting his stupid rules.
My hands balled into fists, and I howled into the woods.
I filled my lungs with air and bellowed an uncivilized scream of fury.
I’d followed the sheriff’s rules, been stuffed into box after box, been forced to tiptoe around politics and sensibilities and money.
Men in power made the rules; men in power protected themselves.
To hell with the women who were victimized, burned, and buried. We were mere things to them.
And I was done with it. I was done with being tamed. I had worn the power of the sheriff’s office for a long time. It was time I wore my own.
Birds fluttered from their nests in trees, and a squirrel fled. My voice echoed, chasing garter snakes and frogs from their dens.
I announced it. My voice roared with my pulse in my ears. Funny how I never screamed, not even when I’d been shot. I always kept my voice strictly modulated and reasonable, to avoid ruffling the feathers of any colleagues or suspects.
Fuck it all.
I turned on my heel, feeling a deadly peacefulness, though my throat was sore.
The fox was sitting in Nick’s garden. The garden was withered and browning, and full of freshly dug holes. She’d unearthed the marigolds near the memorial stone for Nick’s mother. Sinoe watched me with narrowed eyes. She wasn’t laughing. Instead, she was crunching up a mole.
I regarded her, thinking how different she was from Gibby, who begged for tortilla chips. How she was domesticated only when it suited her.
Maybe she had things to teach me.
She swallowed, lifted her head, and yipped.
I took that as approval.
When I returned to the house, I had a message Monica had forwarded to me. It was from Owen Destin, the owner of the Grey Door.
“Look…I think I know where Viv is. She’s in trouble. I don’t like having to turn her in like this, but…she needs your help.”
He left an address way out in the boonies.
Could be a trap. But he sounded sincere.
I had no choice but to follow.