When the Wolf Prowls Read online

  Emerging from their car, Dawn and Rafe took in the scene briefly, but then sought out the paramedics who were treating the surviving victim.

  The paramedic in charge looked up when they hailed him. “Can’t talk to you for too long. We’ve got her stabilized, but we have to get her to the hospital and into surgery ASAP.”

  “We understand,” Rafe said. “What are her chances?”

  “Hard to say. She’s lost a lot of blood, and she has multiple contusions and fractures. She’s in bad shape. Still, she’s more fortunate than the other woman they found in the trunk. She was already dead when we got here. Look, we have to go now.” He signaled the driver, shut the rear door, and the ambulance sped off.

  Before going to check out the perp’s vehicle, Dawn and Rafe sought out the wounded officer. Jordan was leaning against one of the patrol cars, but he straightened up when he saw them.

  “Sarge. D.C.”

  “You okay, Jordan?”

  “Yeah. The bullet just creased me. The paramedics stitched it up for me. I got a little dizzy, though, so they’re pressuring me to go to the hospital, get some X-rays and further tests.”

  “Good idea. You could have a concussion. Fill us in before you go.”

  Jordan took them through the events up to the moment they’d popped the trunk.

  “Two women were lying there in the trunk, one on top of the other,” Jordan said. “There was blood everywhere. They’d been beaten to a pulp. At first we thought that both of them were dead. But when we checked for life signs, we realized that one of them – the one on top – was still alive. We figure she was the one who made the noises that caused us to investigate. She must have heard the sirens, realized that police were on the scene, and kicked the trunk a couple of times, trying to get our attention. It was amazing that she was even conscious, considering the extent of her injuries. But she must have only regained consciousness briefly, because she was unresponsive when we finally popped the trunk. You talked to the paramedics, right? They aren’t very optimistic about her chances.”

  “Yeah, we did that,” Rafe responded. “They’re taking good care of her, so maybe she has a chance. We’ll talk to the doctors at the hospital when we’re done here, see what they have to say. Meanwhile, speaking of hospitals, you need to get on your way and get yourself checked out, Snake.”

  “Okay. I’m just waiting for Devlin to get here. He’s on his way.”

  The fact that the department’s sketch artist had been summoned to the scene surprised Rafe.

  “Dev’s on his way here? That’s unusual,” he commented.

  “It’s the lieutenant’s orders,” Jordan replied. “She called him and told him to get his ass here ASAP. According to Dev, she’s mad as hell that anyone dared to shoot one of her cops in her jurisdiction. So she doesn’t want any time wasted. She wants a sketch of the suspect, pronto. That means I’m staying here for just a a little while longer. As soon as Dev gets here, we’ll rough out a sketch. Then I’ll snag a ride with Eddie and go to the hospital. Garrone is going to take my patrol car back. But keep me in the loop, Sarge. I want to stay involved with this one.”

  Rafe nodded at Jordan and put his hand on the wounded officer’s shoulder for a minute. Then he and Dawn turned away from Jordan and made their way over to the side of the road, where the perp’s car was parked. It was a silver midsize four-door sedan, with alloy wheels and a black chrome waterfall grille. The CSU team was gathered around the car, processing the scene. However, as Dawn and Rafe approached, the sea of techs parted, and Dr. Chandalar, the deputy coroner, emerged from the group and began crossing the road toward them. He was a tall, lean man, known for being meticulous at his job and impatient with anyone who questioned him. Most officers approached him with trepidation, but Rafe was accustomed to his ways and didn’t let the man intimidate him. He needed answers, and he needed them as soon as possible.

  The coroner scowled as Rafe planted himself in front of him in the middle of the road, but he seemed to make an effort to smooth the impatience from his brow when he realized who it was.

  “Sergeant Melbourne,” Dr. Chandalar acknowledged formally. “And Detective Cimarron,” he added, as Dawn joined the pair. “I have only a minute or two to answer any questions you may have.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Rafe answered easily. “What can you tell us? Anything beyond the obvious?”

  Dr. Chandalar shrugged. “I won’t know the full extent of the victim’s injuries until I get her on the table. My initial reaction: she died from blunt force trauma to the head. Somebody hit her with a heavy blunt object multiple times. I’ll let you know more after I’ve done the autopsy. CSU has finished photographing the body in situ, so as soon as you two have concluded your own examination, I’ve given orders for the body to be removed to the morgue as soon as possible. I want to begin the postmortem immediately, if not sooner.”

  With a curt nod at Rafe and Dawn, Dr. Chandalar swung around on his heel and moved away from the vehicle, back toward his own car. Dawn and Rafe continued on in the opposite direction. As they approached the perp’s vehicle, the CSU team made way for the two detectives.

  The dead woman in the trunk was young – hardly more than a girl. She was wearing a long, old-fashioned dress. Its original color was apparently blue, but now it was splashed with huge red splotches of blood. She was slight of build but of average height – maybe five foot four or five. Her hair color could not be determined; she had been shaved bald. Her features were hard to make out as well, due to the beating her face had received.

  Rafe pushed down the tide of sympathy that was rising up inside of him at the sight of what had been done to the girl and turned to Dawn. Indicating the body, he said, “Odd sort of dress. What do you make of it?”

  “It wasn’t originally made for her, that’s for sure,” Dawn replied. “Look at the sleeves. They’re way too high above the wrists. And it’s too tight in the bust and neck as well.” She too was resisting the fingers of pity and anger that were trying to catch hold and squeeze her heart. It was always harder when the victim was young and innocent. But objectivity had to be maintained. What mattered now was to work the case and strive to get justice for the victim.

  Rafe turned and signaled for Garrone, who was standing nearby, to approach. When Garrone joined them, he asked him, “The other woman, the survivor – we only caught a glimpse of her in the ambulance, and she was all covered up. What was she wearing?”

  “She was wearing a dress a lot like this one. Except it was pink, not blue.”

  “What about her hair? Was her head shaved too?”

  “No. She had long, dark hair. Hard to tell the color, though. There was so much blood.”

  Rafe stared again at the body. “I wonder if she shaved her head herself, or if the perp did it to her,” he mused.

  “If the perp did it, the purpose would probably be to punish, to humiliate,” Dawn said. “That’s for sure.” She shot her partner a quizzical glance. “What are you thinking? Do you get the feeling that we may be looking at some sort of cult here, Rafe?”

  Rafe shrugged. “Could be. It’s early days yet, but that’s a definite possibility. Come on, let’s go have a chat with Walsh.”

  Walsh, one of the crime scene technicians, was busy processing the car.

  “Did you find anything interesting?” Rafe asked Walsh.

  “Not much. We’re still dusting for fingerprints. No papers or receipts or the normal sort of trash we see sometimes in cars. Just some snack food. Packages of pretzels, trail mix, candy bar wrappers – that sort of thing.”

  “Have you bagged them already?”

  “Sure. I have them right here.” Walsh reached out, grabbed a couple of plastic evidence bags, and presented them to Rafe. He and Dawn studied the contents. The bag of pretzels was still half-full. So was the bag of trail mix. But the three candy bars had all been eaten.

  “Our perp has a sweet tooth,” Dawn commented.

  “Yeah, he sure does.” Turni
ng back to Walsh, Rafe asked, “What about beverages? Any water bottles or coffee cups or soft drink containers?”

  “No, surprisingly. With someone who likes sweets that much, I usually expect to find some empty soda bottles, at least.”

  Rafe pondered for just a few seconds before asking Garrone, “What about the registration? Have you gotten any results on it?”

  “We got that information when we ran the tags. We confirmed it with the owner’s card, which we recovered from the glove compartment. The car is registered to Thomas Wakely. Age is sixty-eight. Married to Jane Wakely, age sixty-five. They live down in Pueblo. There’s been no report of the car being stolen, but Thomas Wakely sure doesn’t match the description that Jordan gave of the perp. He said that the guy was young and athletic, in his late twenties or early thirties.”

  “I’ll contact the Pueblo police and ask them to check it out. The car is our best lead. What else can you tell us about it?”

  “Well, the gas tank is almost full. If he drove it up from the Pueblo area, I’m guessing that the perp stopped a few miles back down the road and filled up. If the station he stopped at has a convenience store, maybe he even bought the snacks there.”

  Rafe nodded and said, “D.C. and I need to go back to the spot where Jordan was shot and talk with the officers on that scene, see what they’ve found. Then we’ll check out the gas stations back along the route from that point.”

  He looked up as several more vehicles arrived on the scene, observing that the Search and Rescue team from the Colorado Bureau of Investigation had arrived. They quickly established a perimeter and set up a search grid. The CBI team was supported by the members of the Mountpelier Police SWAT Team, the Mountpelier Police Air Support Unit, the K-9 Unit, and the county sheriff’s office.

  Dawn recognized Sergeant Deshong, the leader of the Search and Rescue Team. He had occasionally worked with her husband, Tyrell Lewellen. As the commander of the Mountpelier unit of the Civil Air Patrol, Ty had interacted with Sergeant Deshong on several Search and Rescue operations.

  Deshong towered over the rest of his team. At six foot four, he was almost as tall as Ty’s best friend, Brody, Dawn reflected as she and Rafe approached the group. Five team members, three men and two women, listened intently as their sergeant briefed them. As Dawn and Rafe neared the group, however, Deshong dismissed them and turned to face the pair, greeting them with a nod and extending a massive paw to shake hands with them both in turn. After these civilities had been conducted, Rafe asked Deshong about the status of the Search and Rescue mission.

  “We’re still in the initial phases of the operation,” Deshong informed them. “Presently, we’re establishing a perimeter and setting up a search grid. After that, we’ll be heading out. We’ll have to move more slowly and cautiously than usual, however. It’s not often we’re called to track down a suspect who’s armed and dangerous.”

  He nodded toward a black police van parked a few yards away. Several officers were unpacking gear from the van, under the direction of a powerfully-built team leader. Gesturing toward the team leader, Deshong added, “We’ll be working closely with Officer Stanback and his team on this operation.”

  Stanback was the acting SWAT commander, as good a man at his job as any Rafe knew, and Rafe said as much to Sergeant Deshong. After requesting frequent updates from the team, he and Dawn returned to their own car and started down the road to the initial crime scene, the one where Jordan had been shot.

  Chapter 4

  As Dawn and Rafe neared the spot where Jordan had originally pulled the perp over, they saw that CSU had blocked off the entire area. Dawn parked the car on the berm of the road, just beyond the crime scene tape. Exiting the car and ducking under the tape, she and Rafe approached Gomez, the CSU tech in charge of the scene. He greeted them with a grin.

  “Found a couple of things that will make your day,” Gomez announced.

  “That’s good news. Tell us all about it,” Rafe responded.

  Gomez held up a couple of sealed evidence bags. Pointing to one, he said, “Item number one: a nine millimeter cartridge case, in pristine condition.”

  “You have made our day,” Rafe responded. “What’s the make and the model?”

  “The lab will have to confirm, but I’m betting that the weapon is a Smith and Wesson M&P Shield. They’re common as dirt, and I’ve seen a lot of them over the years.”

  “At this point, we’ll take your word for it.” Rafe pointed to the other evidence bag. “The bullet?” he inquired.

  “Yep. Found it over there.” He indicated the woods on the opposite side of the street. “It’s not in as good a shape as the cartridge, but it’s not bad either. If it had slammed into a tree, it might have been flattened and useless for ballistics, but we caught a break. It looks like it cleared the trees and just buried itself into the ground. Ballistics should be able to give you a good match on it.”

  “Find anything else interesting?”

  “Not much, but we’re still looking.”

  Rafe nodded and said, “We need to travel on and check some convenience stores back along this route. Any chance we can take the car through on this road, or do we need to backtrack and take an alternate route?”

  Gomez responded, “We’ve finished up with the road itself. It’s been searched, mapped, and photographed. So if you want to take the car through, sure, go ahead. I’ll even lift the tape for you at this end.”

  Leaving Gomez and his team behind, Dawn and Rafe proceeded on their quest to find the gas station the perp had stopped at. They struck out at the first two gas stations on their route, but hit pay-dirt on the third.

  Inside the convenience store at the third gas station, Dawn and Rafe waited patiently for the clerk at the register to check out a customer before interviewing him. Dawn studied the clerk and reflected that if he ever committed a crime, identifying him would be dead easy. Some men were nondescript and just melted into the crowd, but this clerk seemed determined not to be one of them. He had just a fringe of hair running around his scalp and was bald on top. Ordinary so far, but not so for the rest of him. Piercings studded his moon-shaped face. Six rings flashed on his right nostril, and a fake diamond was inserted into the middle of his chin.

  Once the clerk had finished waiting on his customer, Dawn and Rafe walked up, identified themselves as police officers, and described the perp’s car to him. The clerk frowned for a minute in concentration, but then responded, “Yeah. A car like that stopped here a couple of hours ago. I remember it because there were plenty of pumps close to the door, but the driver pulled his car up to the pump that was farthest away. He didn’t use a credit card; instead, he came in and paid for his gas in advance with cash. After he pumped his gas, he came back in to get his change and a receipt. He walked up here to the register first, but then he commented that he might as well get some snacks since he was already in the store. He wandered off into the aisle with all the snack food and candy. When he came back up here with the snacks, I started chatting with him. You know, the usual. Hadn’t seen him in here before, was he from around here, etc. He said that he wasn’t from around here – he was just passing through. Said he’d been driving for hours, and had covered nearly two hundred miles.”

  Noticing the cameras around the store, Rafe said, “Your video surveillance cameras working, or are they just for show?”

  “They’re working, all right.”

  “We need you to bring up the video for the time the guy was in here.”

  The clerk complied. On the video footage, Dawn and Rafe saw a variety of people coming and going. Then a long period of no activity. Finally, a car they both recognized pulled up to one of the pumps. A man got out, a young man by the way he was moving. He was wearing a jacket, though, and the hood was pulled up, obscuring his face. He walked in and prepaid for his gas, just as the clerk had said. They watched carefully as he finished pumping the gas and re-entered the store, hoping to get a better look at his face. But he kept his hea
d down the whole time he was in the store, even while he chatted with the clerk when paying for the snacks and candy. He never looked up, never looked directly at the camera.

  Dawn exchanged a glance with Rafe after they finished watching the video. “He knew or suspected that there was a security camera,” she said. “That’s why he was careful to keep his head down.”

  Rafe nodded absently. Turning to the clerk, he said, “Thanks. Look, we need you to meet with a police artist and work on a sketch of the man who came into the store. Would you be willing to do that?”

  The clerk was avid with curiosity by now. “Sure. What did he do?”

  “He’s a suspect in a homicide. Look, if you happen to see him again, just act normally. Don’t confront him or tell him that the police were asking about him. Wait until he leaves, then call us. Here’s my card.”

  Before they left the store, Dawn moved over to the beverage area to get herself a cup of coffee. When Rafe made no move to join her, she said, “You don’t want coffee?”

  “Uh, no. Not right now.”

  “Wow. I’ll have to look outside tonight and see if there’s a blue moon. In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never known you to refuse a cup of coffee.”

  As he watched Dawn move over to the coffee station and pour some coffee into a go-cup, Rafe turned back to the clerk and asked, “When he was in here, did the perp get anything to drink? Like coffee or something?”

  “No, now that you mention it, he said something about drinking a couple of cups of coffee in the wee hours of the morning, before he started out on his trip. He regretted it, because it meant that he had to pull off to take a leak more frequently than he liked. That happens to some people sometimes. I’ve got to say, though, it usually happens to women more than men.”

  “Yeah. I’d tend to agree with you about that,” Rafe said.

  Dawn, meanwhile, had finished at the coffee station and was making her way back to the counter to pay for her coffee. Rafe called to her and said, “I’ll meet you back at the car.”