“Well, I’m still not gonna waste my time hunting down matches for fingerprints on AFIS until you tell me to.” She stepped past me and began photographing the scene. I grinned and stayed out of her way.
Crawford showed up as Jill was finishing up her pictures. He peered down at the crumpled body and then looked back up at me. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again, clearly conflicted. He flicked a glance around, taking in the people present.
Finally he cleared his throat and returned his focus to me. “I take it you have some reason to believe this wasn’t an accident?”
I nodded. Shit. How was I supposed to explain? This one wasn’t as easy as saying a dog had been chasing me. “There are some, er, similarities to the Victor Kerry scene, as well as to the attack on Lida Moran in New Orleans.”
His inner turmoil was painfully obvious. Even Ryan and Zack seemed to be aware of it as they stood silently by, carefully pretending to be paying no attention to our conversation.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Then he swept his gaze over the agents. “This is some kind of supernatural-type bullshit, isn’t it?”
Ryan gave Crawford a grave nod. “In a way, yes. Our task force often handles cases that fall outside the commonly accepted norm.”
Crawford gave a snort. “ ‘Commonly accepted norm.’ I don’t fucking believe this.” He looked almost relieved, though, as if the fact that Ryan had admitted it helped to prove he hadn’t lost his mind.
“Sarge,” I began, but he held up his hand to stop me.
“Kara. It ... it’s okay.” He still had a pained expression, but he didn’t look miserably conflicted anymore. “So, are you some kind of psychic or witch or something?”
I fought the urge to smile. “Not exactly. I ... um ... have the ability to see arcane power and can shape it for certain purposes.”
He blew out his breath. “Fucking shit, but that explains a lot about you.”
I burst out laughing. He looked at me sharply, then joined in a second later. After a few seconds he regained control of himself and looked over at Jill. “And you’re part of this
She made a rude noise. “Look, just because I hang out with these weird peeps doesn’t mean I’m one of them!”
That seemed to relieve Crawford more than anything. “All right. So, what do you really have here, Kara?”
“I have reason to believe that an inanimate creature controlled by supernatural means was involved in the attack on Lida Moran and in the two murders.”
I could see him visible struggling to accept the otherworldly aspect to all of this. “Okay,” he said slowly, voice perhaps a tiny bit shaky. “What do you do now?”
I spread my hands. “For now, treat it like any other investigation.”
Relief filled his eyes. He knew how to handle “any other investigation.”
“We have three victims,” I continued. “Even though Lida survived going into the river, I’m still counting her as a victim.”
“But how is Vic Kerry connected?” Crawford asked.
“Not sure yet,” I said. “One theory is that it’s possible Roger Peeler was the intended victim of Kerry’s murder, since Roger was in the habit of using the workout equipment in Kerry’s office.” I chewed my lower lip in thought for a few heartbeats.
“That would imply that the band is being targeted,” Crawford said, eyes narrowed. He was in his element now that we were talking about more mundane things.
“Yes, but I also found a copy of three NSF checks from Adam Taylor in Kerry’s desk. And I also found this.” I tugged the paper with the initials out of my notebook and passed it to him. “Roger Peeler confirmed that Kerry loaned him fifteen thousand dollars.” I paused. “Or rather, Kerry loaned it to him, and then was nice enough to invest it for him. Plus, Kerry was a real sweet guy and approached Roger with the offer of the loan.”
Crawford’s expression turned dubious. “Real sweet. You have subpoenas out, I take it?”
“I do for Kerry’s info,” I said, “but I’ll be shocked if I get the return back in less than a week.” I couldn’t help but scowl, even though I respected the privacy issues that delayed the release of information. “However, Roger went down to the bank and gave them permission to give me full access to his accounts. I’m going down to the bank in the morning to pick up copies. I’ll also send out subpoenas for Taylor’s financials.” Ugh. I was going to be drowning in boring paperwork soon.
“Sounds like you have it covered. And with the bad checks there’s a link between Taylor and Kerry,” he said.
“Right, but I still have to determine if that link had anything to do with their deaths. I’d like to get a search warrant for Mr. Taylor’s house.”
“Do it,” he agreed. He looked to Ryan. “Would you mind staying here with me while Kara takes care of that?”
“Not at all,” Ryan replied. “Do you mind if Agent Garner accompanies Kara on the search warrant?”
“Not at all,” Crawford replied.
I turned to leave, then stopped.
He responded with a perplexed look. I scowled and gave my head a slight jerk in Ryan’s direction, then shook my head again.
Crawford merely looked even more baffled. I rolled my eyes, then marched up to Crawford and took him by the arm to pull him a short distance away from Ryan. “Do
Crawford made a sour noise. “Go do your damn search warrant.”
I gave him a pleading look. “Sarge ...”
He scowled at me. “I won’t say anything. Now would you please get the hell out of here?”
I smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Sarge!” I jerked my head at a bemused Zack. “C’mon, Surfer Boy,” I said. “We’re being kicked out.”
Ryan turned to Crawford as I walked past. “How long has she been insane?”
“As long as I’ve known her, Agent Kristoff,” Crawford replied with a dramatic sigh.
“I heard that!” I yelled.
The laughter of the two men followed me out.
This was the kind of search warrant that I preferred. Nobody home, no forced entry, and plenty of time to do what we needed to do.
Adam lived on the edge of town, in a bland little subdivision with only about fifty houses in it, all built from what looked to be a wide variety of four different house plans. There were no trees anywhere in the neighborhood, except for some scrawny twigs that had been stuck in the front yard of each house—one per residence. I assumed they were meant to someday grow into trees, but the tallest one I saw was only four feet high. It would be a long time before this subdivision saw anything resembling shade.
Adam’s house was a single-story ranch, with brick on the front and vinyl siding on the back and sides. There were no cars in the cracked driveway, and the only concession to landscaping was a raggedly mown lawn and the aforementioned twig.
We’d snagged Adam’s keys before heading out to get the search warrant, which meant that we didn’t have to break any windows to get in. I drew my gun, then unlocked the door and pushed it open a couple of feet.
“Beaulac Police Department,” I called into the silent house. “We’re making entry on a search warrant.” I was almost positive that Adam lived alone, however that didn’t necessarily mean that the house was unoccupied.
The only response was the quiet hum of the refrigerator.
I flicked on the lights, then Zack and I went through the house with guns drawn to be absolutely sure there was nothing lurking. The interior looked about as exciting as the outside of the house. The living room held a dull beige sectional sofa and a flat screen television. The kitchen had dishes in the sink—remnants from breakfast it looked like—but the rest was generally tidy and neat. The bedroom had an overflowing laundry hamper and an unmade bed, but the carpet looked as if it had been vacuumed within the last day or so. There were no surprises
