Sniffing Out Justice
Auteur
Carol J. Post
Lezers
19,8K
Hoofdstukken
12
A witness in peril. A K-9 protector. A fight for survival. After witnessing her best friend's murder, Kristina Ashbaugh-Richards and her search and rescue dog, Bella, find themselves targeted by the killer. Kris can identify the criminal — and she's exactly what he looks for in his victims. Her high school crush, Detective Tony Sanderson, vows to protect Kris and her son, but as they try to outwit a dangerous murderer, no place is safe to hide. With her life at stake, Kris's only hope of survival is to catch the serial killer before he catches her.
ONE
The sun shone from low in the eastern sky, casting long shadows over the group gathered at the edge of the parking lot. Beyond the Blackwater River State Park campground lay hundreds of acres of pine forests, swamps and scrubby ridges. Somewhere in that vastness of nature, a twenty-six-year-old woman had disappeared.
Kristina Ashbaugh-Richards swiped a hand across her forehead, slick with beads of sweat. At barely nine in the morning, it was already hot and humid. Of course, Florida was always hot and humid in early August, even in the Panhandle. Her T-shirt was damp where her pack rested against her back, and she was looking forward to shedding the hiking boots she’d put on an hour and a half earlier.
She took a swig from her water bottle. One end of a leash circled her wrist, the other end attached to her golden retriever’s collar. Bella wasn’t the only dog there. Almost forty Escambia County search and rescue volunteers had gathered, about half of them with a canine partner.
Three people stood in the center of the semicircle of volunteers, one holding a stack of papers. She’d introduced herself as Teresa. “The info on our lady is all here, including a picture.”
She handed the stack to the gentleman next to her. “Eddie’s going to give one to each of you. You’re looking for Julia Morris—dark hair, shoulder length. She’s slender, in good shape, enjoys the outdoors. A week ago yesterday, she left her home in Fort Walton Beach to do some wilderness camping in the Blackwater Forest, a nature photography trip. She was to report back to work Monday morning. When she didn’t, her coworkers got concerned and called the authorities. She apparently never made it home from that camping trip.”
Kris reached down to scratch the top of Bella’s head. The dog was standing at attention in her black-and-orange vest, Search & Rescue printed across both sides. Her muscles were stiff with anticipation. This was their first search and rescue mission in more than a year and a half. Though it had been a while, Bella obviously hadn’t forgotten. Nothing brought working dogs more satisfaction than participating and succeeding in what they were trained to do.
After assigning grids to the volunteers and giving them items of the missing camper’s clothing, those in charge released them to begin. Bella strained at the leash, eager to start the search, and Kris’s pulse picked up speed. She’d stayed away far too long.
After she’d taken a few steps, someone spoke a short distance behind her. “Glad I caught you. Sorry I’m late.”
The male voice brushed her mind with a vague sense of familiarity. She cast a glance over her shoulder but couldn’t see past the others in the party.
“Glad you made it. I’ll team you up with Kristina Richards and her dog, Bella.”
At Teresa’s words, Kris gave a tug on the leash. “Hold on, Bella.”
She waited for the others to disperse. When the newcomer turned to face her, her stomach did a free fall, then tightened into a solid knot.
His jaw went slack, but he recovered instantly. A slow, easy smile spread across his face. He’d always had an infectious smile. She wasn’t susceptible anymore.
Kris squared her shoulders as Teresa led him in her direction.
“Tony, this is Kristina Richards and her dog, Bella. Tony Sanderson.”
Tony nodded. “We’ve met. We were friends through high school, then lost touch.”
Friends. Was that what he called it?
“Great. I’ll let you get on your way.”
Kris set out again, letting Tony fall in next to her. She wouldn’t wait on him, although she likely wouldn’t have to. He looked like he could keep up with her just fine, even on her morning runs. He’d filled out nicely since high school, but other than that and how the lines of his face had grown more mature, he hadn’t changed a lot. His sandy blond hair was as thick as ever, and those deep brown eyes still seemed to hold a hint of humor.
“How have you been?” His question cut across her thoughts.
“Okay.” She focused her gaze straight ahead. She wouldn’t make small talk. “How much do you know about what we’re doing today?”
“I know we’re looking for a young woman who never returned from a wilderness camping trip. What else can you tell me?”
She removed the paper she’d folded and stuffed into her pocket. “Here’s her information. She was reported missing after she didn’t show up for work yesterday.”
He read what she handed him and passed it back. “Where are we headed?”
“We take the catwalk, then head northeast into the woods. Since she was off-grid, no one knows where she set up camp. She left her phone in her car, probably figuring she wouldn’t have service anyway.”
Several minutes passed in silence before he spoke again. “So, you’re Richards now. You’re married?”
“No.” He’d probably assume she was divorced and hadn’t taken back her maiden name. She wouldn’t bother to correct him. She wouldn’t ask if he was married, either, because she really didn’t care.
She’d work with him, though, and not let their past interfere with the job they had to do. A young woman was counting on them. Even if they were paired up on future searches, she’d deal with it professionally.
As they moved along the catwalk, they were silent except for the clomp of their shoes against the wooden planks. Bella trotted as far ahead as the leash would allow, tail wagging. Sounds of the swamp surrounded them—the calls of birds, the buzz of insects and the occasional croak of an alligator.
When the catwalk ended, Kris consulted her GPS and headed into the woods. A rustle sounded some distance to their right, likely one or two of the other volunteers. Her own search area was still some distance away.
Finally, she checked her GPS again and gave Tony a nod. “We’re getting close.”
She knelt next to Bella and held the T-shirt she’d been given in front of the golden retriever’s face. After the dog gave it several sniffs, Kris straightened. “Bella, search.”
The dog’s demeanor shot from carefree to focused. She moved forward, nose sniffing the air, head swinging side to side as she tried to pick up the scent. Kris led her in a broad zigzag pattern, covering the area thoroughly. Watching her dog wrapped up in the joy of the search, she could almost pretend they were alone.
Until Tony broke the silence. “I love watching these canines do their thing. How long have you had Bella?”
At the mention of her dog, some of the prickliness subsided. “Five years.”
“Have you been doing this all that time?”
“No. Bella finished her training three years ago.”
“I just joined the group last year, after I moved from Fort Walton Beach to Pensacola.”
Great. They were living in the same town again. “I figured you’d want to be closer to Sanderson Charters.” She managed to suppress the disdainful nose crinkle that usually accompanied her saying the name. When their dads had parted ways, Tony’s had opened a competing business an hour away and took a lot of Ashbaugh customers with him.
“I’m not working in the charter business. I went into police work instead. Dad was a little disappointed, but Nick’s doing the business with him, so it all worked out.”
She nodded. She’d known Nick, too. He’d been a year ahead of them in school. Apparently, Tony’s big brother didn’t have the same moral standards Tony did.
She dipped her gaze to the ground. All the while he was badmouthing Jerry Sanderson, her father had had no right to talk. He was now doing prison time for drug running while Kris and her twin, Kassie, were managing his charter business.
Morning slid into afternoon with no success, and Kris slipped the backpack straps from her shoulders. “I’m starved. How about we take a break?”
“You won’t get any argument from me.”
While she took a bowl from her pack and filled it with water, Tony sat on a downed tree trunk and removed a sandwich from his own pack. He was dressed in khaki shorts, making her wish she’d opted for something cooler than jeans. At his right hip, the bulge of a holster was barely apparent under his T-shirt. Although she felt comfortable in the woods, having an armed escort couldn’t be a bad thing.
Kris refilled Bella’s empty bowl with kibble and removed her own sandwich from its plastic bag. By then, Tony was halfway through his.
He patted the log. “Have a seat.”
After sinking onto the rough bark, she bit into her sandwich. Peanut butter and honey had never tasted so good.
Tony took a long swig of water. “From what I’ve seen, the dogs get discouraged when they search all day and don’t find anything.”
“They do. Sometimes we’ll hide something and have them find it, so they can feel like they did a good job.”
He held out a hand, palm up. “Is it okay if I pet her?”
“Sure.”
Bella approached, and he scratched her cheek. After downing the last bite of his sandwich, he gave her a two-handed rubdown. “I always enjoy seeing the K-9 officers with their dogs.”
“What agency do you work for?”
“Pensacola P.D.”
“Do you know Jared Miles?”
“We’ve met. He’s in patrol, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m in criminal investigations. I take it you know him.”
“He’s my sister’s fiancé.”
“Kassie or Alyssa?”
“Kassie. Alyssa took off after she turned eighteen and hasn’t been back since. We don’t hear much from her.” Unless she needed money.
Oh, yeah. She wasn’t going to converse with him beyond what was necessary to complete their assigned task. Unfortunately, it was too easy to slip back into the camaraderie they’d shared as teenagers, before he’d humiliated her in front of the entire student body.
Kris finished her sandwich and returned the baggie and other items to her pack. They’d just started out again when the radio she carried crackled to life. One of the dogs had picked up a trail.
Tony looked at her. “We keep searching, right?”
“Yes. We should know something soon.”
Soon ended up being less than twenty minutes later. The dog lost the trail at the Blackwater River. Moving a good distance in either direction produced nothing. Neither did crossing the river and searching the other side. Their camper either swam downriver or left in a boat.
They continued their search, moving deeper into the woods. The air hung heavy and damp with Florida’s relentless summertime humidity. A breeze moved past them, then disappeared again.
Kris wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Smell that?”
“There’s a dead animal nearby.”
Over the next several minutes, the odor grew stronger.
Tony waved a hand in front of his face. “That’s bigger than a squirrel or armadillo.”
Kris stepped around a tree and looked to her left. Her chest clenched. Her mouth worked, but nothing came out because her throat had closed up.
She grasped Tony’s upper arm. He looked at her, then beyond her. His eyes widened, and his jaw went slack for the second time that day.
Whispered words escaped his mouth, barely audible—“Not again.”
He moved closer to the body, and she did, too, because she couldn’t seem to extricate her fingers from his biceps. A breeze rustled the trees around them, sweeping away some of the stench of death, and thunder rumbled far in the distance.
She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Someone had taken a hammer—or something—to the side of their camper’s head. Dried blood matted the dark brown hair, and pieces of bone and tissue protruded from the crater.
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. Tony wrapped an arm around her and led her a few yards away. When he stopped, he still didn’t release her. As soon as her legs no longer felt as if they’d buckle, she would step away.
She shook her head. “Why didn’t Bella pick up the scent?”
“She’s not a cadaver dog, is she?”
“You mean the woman was killed somewhere else and dumped here?”
“I don’t know. That’s not our camper, though.”
“She fits the description.”
“This body has been here for at least ten days. But we need to call this in.”
She stepped to the side, and he let his arm fall. While he radioed what they’d found, she knelt on the ground, arms wrapped around Bella’s body, face buried in the golden fur.
Soon, he approached. “They’re calling the authorities. I’ll need to bring them back here. I’ll walk with you until we meet up with them.”
As they approached the catwalk, voices reached them from up ahead. Soon, four Santa Rosa County personnel came into view. Kris bid Tony farewell with a boulder-size knot in her stomach. Whether from being forced to spend the day with him or capping it off with the grisly find in the forest, she wasn’t sure. Probably both. As a detective, maybe Tony was used to dealing with dead bodies. She wasn’t.
Thunder rumbled again, closer than before.
“Come on, Bella.” She picked up her pace to a jog, determined to reach her car before the rain moved in.
She didn’t make it. Five minutes later, the sky opened up. Shortly after that, she loaded a sopping wet dog and her own dripping self into her red CR-V. She pulled her phone from her pack and called her best friend, hoping to cancel dinner plans. “I’m finished. Have you started cooking yet?”
“The casserole’s in the oven, waiting for you to arrive.”
She’d been afraid of that. “I need to borrow some dry clothes.”
“Sure thing. We’re getting the same storm. Maybe it’ll pass before you leave here.”
Kris ended the call and heaved a sigh. Forty minutes to Fort Walton Beach and an hour home, when she longed to head straight to Pensacola, pick up Gavin from the babysitter and spend the evening locked in her house, loving on her little boy and her dog.
But she couldn’t let down her best-ever friend. Shannon and her boyfriend had broken up last night, and tonight she needed company. During the darkest period of Kris’s life, Shannon had been there for her. Kassie had tried, but Kris had always felt closer to her best friend than either of her sisters.
When she pulled into Shannon’s driveway, the rain was still coming down in sheets. She grabbed her umbrella and, after letting Bella out, made a dash for Shannon’s front porch. Once there, Bella shook the water from her fur, showering Kris.
“Really?”
Moments after she rang the bell, the door swung open, and music spilled from the house. The smile Shannon wore held a lot of sympathy. “Come in. Here are some dry clothes.” She handed Kris a T-shirt and yoga pants.
“I’ll put Bella in the garage. Otherwise, your place will smell like wet dog.”
“Go get changed. I’ve got Bella.” Her voice was raised to compete with what poured from the sound system. She loved her music. Any time a popular band performed within a hundred-mile radius of Fort Walton Beach, she was likely in the audience.
As Kris headed down the hall, Shannon’s voice followed her. “Come on, sweetie.”
The smile she’d worn upon greeting her was a good sign. So was the lack of red, puffy eyes. She was handling the breakup well. Of course, Shannon always handled breakups well. She’d had enough practice. She threw off boyfriends like Kris cast off hand-me-down clothes.
When Kris walked into the kitchen, Shannon was throwing away an empty dog food can.
“You fed her. Thanks.” Her friend didn’t have a dog, but Kris kept a stash of food there.
“I even toweled her off.” She removed a casserole dish from the oven and placed it on a potholder in the center of the table. “Cheesy ground beef, the cheater’s version of lasagna. Have at it.”
Kris spooned a good-size serving onto her plate. “It smells fantastic.”
Shannon sat opposite her. “Did you find your camper lady?”
“No. About forty of us were looking, a bunch of dogs, too, but there was no sign of her.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It gets worse. Tony and I discovered a body.”
Shannon’s eyes rounded. “Like a dead person?”
“Yep.”
“Not the camper.”
“No. He said the body had been there longer than that.”
Shannon took a swig of iced tea. “Who is this Tony person? Someone good-looking and eligible, I hope.”
“Definitely good-looking.” As much as she hated to acknowledge it.
“And eligible?”
“I don’t know.” He hadn’t been wearing a ring. Not that she’d specifically looked for one. He’d held his sandwich in his left hand, and she hadn’t been able to help but notice.
Shannon laid down her fork with a sigh. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Girl, you need to ask these kinds of questions.”
“Why, when I couldn’t care less about the answers?”
Shannon shook her head in that what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you? way.
“I did get his full name.”
“That’s a start.”
“Tony Sanderson.”
Shannon’s mouth fell open and snapped shut again. “Oh, that Tony.”
“Yeah. Another reason to add to my usual one for why I don’t care whether he’s available or not.”
Shannon shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I should never have conned you into writing that note. I thought if he knew how you felt about him, he’d see y’all were meant to be more than just friends. I had no idea he’d use the note as a weapon.”
She shrugged. “It’s not like it permanently scarred me. You know, the whole sticks-and-stones thing.” Except that whoever said words couldn’t hurt apparently lived under a rock.
Kris scooped another bite of the noodle-beef-cheese mixture onto her fork. “Enough about Tony. How are you doing?”
“I’m all right. It was time.” Shannon’s gaze dipped to her plate, and she played with her food for several seconds, spearing and twirling it on her fork. Finally, she met Kris’s gaze. “Carl was starting to scare me. He has anger issues.”
Kris frowned. “Any chance he’ll come back and try to hurt you?”
“I don’t know.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “But I say we banish both Tony and Carl from the rest of our conversation tonight. Let’s plan another trip on the water.”
“Already?” She and Shannon, along with Bella and Gavin, had spent the past weekend on Shannon’s small cabin cruiser.
“It’ll do us both good.” Shannon spooned a bite into her mouth. “I wonder who the cute guy was that we passed on the water.”
“We passed several cute guys on the water.”
“The one we came up on early Sunday morning, with the cutoff jean shorts and no shirt.”
Oh, yeah, him. They’d heard a splash ahead of them. As they’d approached, their engine on low, he’d been standing with his back to them, working over the side of the boat. Then he’d whirled, an anchor line or maybe cast net in his hand. “He didn’t look thrilled to see us.”
“We were scaring away his fish.”
“Or maybe it was because you were shining your flashlight in his face.”
“It wasn’t in his face the whole time. Most of the time I had it aimed at his chest and abs. Very muscular ones, I might add.”
Kris shook her head. Granted, the guy looked like he lived at the gym, but she wasn’t nearly as swayed by good looks as her friend was.
“I should have asked if he was single, except I wasn’t until last night.” Shannon released a wistful sigh. “Maybe if I hang out at the public boat ramps, I’ll run into him again.”
“Shannon!”
“What?”
“You just got out of one relationship, and you’re already trying to jump into another one.”
“That’s the best way to recover. If the horse throws you, get back in the saddle.” Her tone grew serious. “It’s like I’ve been telling you. No one will ever replace Mark, but isn’t it time to get back out there? I mean, how long has it been since the accident, sixteen months?”
“Eighteen.” Plus one week and two days.
“A year and a half. If Mark could talk to you right now, he’d say he doesn’t want you pining away for him. He’d want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.” Relatively speaking.
She stood to take their plates and silverware to the dishwasher. Shannon followed with the casserole dish. By the time she’d put away the leftovers and cleaned the dish, Kris had finished wiping the counters.
She hung the dishcloth on the oven door handle. “Would you be disappointed if I ate and split?”
“Maybe a little, but I understand. After the day you’ve had, you’re probably wiped.”
She gave her a tired smile. “Wiped doesn’t begin to describe it.”
Kris walked from the kitchen. “I need to use your restroom before I leave.” Then she’d get Bella and be on her way.
She stepped into the small room and hit the double switch, turning on the light and the exhaust fan. A minute later, the ring of the doorbell barely penetrated the rumble of the fan motor.
Her stomach tightened. Carl. Who else would it be at eight thirty at night, in weather like this? Hopefully the breakup hadn’t ticked him off too badly.
“Don’t answer it.”
Shannon probably wouldn’t hear her shouted words over the music, but she should have the sense to keep a locked door between herself and a possibly irate ex-boyfriend.
Kris stood and flushed the toilet. Washed and dried her hands. Opened the door. Shut off the light and exhaust fan.
The hair on her arms stood on end. Something wasn’t right. If Shannon had opened the door, there would be arguing. If she’d kept it closed and locked, there’d be pounding and demands that she open it. But all was quiet except the music.
She tiptoed down the hall to the driving beat of Crossfade’s “Cold” and stepped into the living room. Nothing was amiss. The wall to her left blocked the view of the kitchen. She moved forward, and the wall ended, opening the living room to the kitchen/dining area.
Blood whooshed through her ears, and her knees started to buckle.
A man stood between the table and the cabinetry, his back to her, a knife gripped in one latex-covered hand, his other stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. Shannon lay at his feet in an expanding pool of blood, hands clutching her stomach and chest, one leg slowly bending and straightening.
Kris pressed a hand to her mouth to stop the scream rising in her throat. But the gasp had already escaped. The intruder turned. It wasn’t Carl. It was the boater she and Shannon had met early Sunday morning.
As he leaped toward her, his foot slid backward on the tile, slick with Shannon’s blood, and he landed hard on that knee. Kris bolted across the living room. By the time she threw the deadbolt and opened the door, heavy footsteps pounded behind her.
She flew down the porch stairs. Cold rain poured down on her, drenching her for the second time.
She looked frantically around. There was no one to help her, no traffic in either direction. She ran for the side of the house. The intruder shot outside the same moment she rounded the corner. Had he seen her? If so, he’d be on her in moments. Her best option was to hide.
She climbed over the viburnum hedge that lined the side of Shannon’s house and lay flat against the stucco wall. The hedge was thick, the branches of each shrub intertwining with the limbs of the next. If he wasn’t looking, he’d never see her.
Heavy footsteps moved closer. As she peered between two of the shrubs, sneakers passed within feet of her face. She held her breath, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Keep going. Once he left the yard, she could make a run for a neighbor’s house and have them call the police.
A rustle sounded nearby, then another and another, each closer than the last. Her heart almost stopped. He was searching the hedge for her.
She low-crawled away from him, keeping her side pressed against the house. When she reached the front corner, she sprang to her feet and sprinted toward the road. A vehicle approached from her left. Her heart leaped into her throat. If she ran into the street in front of him, maybe he’d stop and help her.
The killer’s footsteps pounded closer. By the time she reached the edge of the road, she could hear his labored breaths. A hand brushed her back.
She ran into the street. The headlights shining through the downpour were closer than she’d expected. The driver hadn’t seen her. He’d never get stopped in time.
She made a desperate lunge, steeling herself for the sickening thud of metal against flesh. And the searing pain that would follow.
If she survived at all.
Tony jammed on his brakes, sending the Tundra into a skid. A sickening thud reverberated through the cab. A body rolled across his hood, slammed into his windshield and fell to the pavement.
Two figures had appeared out of nowhere. In the dark and pouring rain, he hadn’t seen them until they’d been right in front of him. The larger one was lying in the road next to him. He wasn’t sure about the smaller one. If he’d missed her, it hadn’t been by much. He unfastened his seat belt and turned on his flashers. Before he could open the door, the man beside him rose and took off at a limping run.
Tony stepped from the truck. The man was headed down the property line between two houses. The smaller figure was running down the street toward his parents’ place. That was where he was supposed to be.
He charged after the larger one. Someone didn’t run after being struck by a car without good reason. Maybe they’d both committed a crime. Or maybe the man had been chasing the smaller person, who’d been trying to escape.
By the time he reached the backyards, he’d already lost sight of the man. For the next ten minutes, he darted from yard to yard, periodically stopping to listen for signs of movement. Finally, he had to admit defeat. In daylight, the injured man would never have escaped him. In the dark and pouring rain, visibility was too limited.
He jogged back toward his Tundra. The rain was slackening. As he neared the street, music flowed into the rainy night from one of the homes. It had barely registered when he’d stepped from his truck.
He continued forward. The yellow glow of his emergency flashers pulsed through the rain. The two people had apparently run out of the house that lay beyond. The front door was open, and light shone from beyond that first room.
He knew the woman who lived there. A friend had dated her briefly in high school. That had been before his family had moved from Pensacola to Fort Walton Beach at the end of his senior year. Her parents had done the same two years later, buying a house on the same street. Was she the smaller figure he’d almost hit? He couldn’t say. Everything had happened too fast.
He approached his truck, which waited just outside the glow of a nearby streetlight. Two feet away, he skidded to a stop. A soft, shifting light came from inside the cab. Someone was in his truck, possibly with a cell phone. Maybe his. He’d left it sitting in the cup holder after letting his mom know he was on his way.
He approached slowly and drew his weapon. If the man had doubled back and was waiting for him inside the truck, he wouldn’t be caught off-guard. He stepped closer. Definitely the glow of a cell phone. Someone sat on his passenger floorboard, head lowered, legs curled beneath them. The figure didn’t belong to a man.
He holstered his weapon. She posed no threat. She held the phone in one hand and touched the screen with the other. She was shaking so badly, whatever she keyed in likely didn’t resemble her brain’s commands.
He hesitated. If she was the person he’d almost hit, and she’d been fleeing for her life, he didn’t want to terrify her further.
He tapped on the window. She dropped the phone and scrambled onto the passenger seat, fumbling for the door handle. When he swung open the driver door, light flooded the interior of the cab. “It’s okay. I’m a police officer. I can help you.”
Her head swiveled toward him, and her eyes widened. His did, too.
Kris? She should have been back home in Pensacola. What was she doing hiding in his truck, a dripping, quivering mess?
He hurried around to the passenger side. When he opened the door, she looked up at him, her face streaked with tears, her short, dark hair plastered to her head. He reached into the truck to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Tell me what happened.”
“Boater...knife...blood...everywhere.” She was hyperventilating, gasping after every word. She ended the jumbled sentence with a sob.
He glanced behind him. “Where is Shannon?” She still lived there. The last he’d heard, her parents had let her assume the mortgage while they’d moved on. Taking cover inside would be safer than sitting outside with the man he’d hit on the loose.
“He stabbed her.”
“Who stabbed her?”
“The boater.” Another sob shook her shoulders.
“Did you call 911?”
“I tried.”
That was what she’d been trying to do when he’d first seen her. He retrieved his phone from the passenger floorboard and made the call. When finished, he bent over to bring himself eye-to-eye with her. “They’re sending police and ambulance. Is Shannon inside?”
Kris nodded.
“I’m going to check on her. Okay?” Maybe she was still alive. An ambulance would arrive within five or six minutes, but in situations like this, seconds counted.
She grasped his free hand. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t, but you need to come up to the house with me.”
“No, no, no.” She shook her head so violently she sprayed him with rainwater.
“You don’t have to come inside. Just wait on the porch.”
She drew in a stabilizing breath. “Okay.”
He helped her from the truck. She and Shannon Jacobs had been friends all through school, a friendship they’d obviously maintained. Though he didn’t have the details, something horrific had happened here tonight.
She ascended the three steps and stopped at the open door, eyes averted so she couldn’t see inside. “Please let Bella out.”
“Where is she?”
“The garage.”
“Give me a minute to check on Shannon.”
“Okay. My purse is in there, too.”
He nodded. That was why she didn’t have her own cell phone or the means to drive away to safety.
When he stepped into the living room, his position offered him an angled view of the dining area. Two legs were visible around the living room wall, from the calves down. One foot was clad in a sandal, the other bare, its covering likely lost in the scuffle. The driving beat of a song he didn’t know rammed into him, pounding in his chest. Ignoring it, he moved toward the kitchen.
Shannon lay faceup next to the kitchen table, blood pooling around her torso. One arm was bent, that hand resting on her abdomen. The other was extended at an angle from her body, palm up, fingers curled. Drying blood coated the underside of her hand and forearm.
His heart twisted. He dealt with violence on a regular basis. None of the cases were easy, but they were especially difficult when he knew the victims.
Careful to not disturb the scene, he squatted to press two fingers to her carotid artery. Nothing.
He rose and looked around the room. A purse hung over one of the chairs. If there’d been a struggle, nothing in the kitchen revealed it. The counters were spotless, bare except for a canister set and toaster oven. The only items occupying the table were a centerpiece, a napkin holder, and salt and pepper shakers.
He opened the door off the side of the kitchen. Bella wandered into the room and sniffed him.
“Hey, Bella. Let’s go see your mommy.” If the purse belonged to Kris, he’d let the crime scene people bring it out when they arrived.
As he walked back to the living room with the golden retriever in tow, sirens sounded in the distance. Kris was standing on the porch gripping the side railing.
Her gaze snapped up to meet his. “Shannon, is she...”
He nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
The dog rushed to her, and she squatted to bury her face in the blond fur. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Tony wished he could be the one providing her comfort. At one time, he would have been. Then something had happened, something she was still holding against him, based on her coolness toward him this morning.
The first hour, the tension between them had been thick before she’d finally relaxed into her job. She’d had a crush on him throughout their junior and senior years, and the entire school had known about it before he had.
Their fathers had parted ways on unpleasant terms, too, at least on the Ashbaugh side. Not Jerry Sanderson. The man lived out his faith everywhere he went. It was an example Tony still tried to follow.
He cleared his throat, and she looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. His chest tightened. “Do you think Bella would be able to pick up the killer’s scent?”
“Possibly.” She swiped her hands across both cheeks. “It’s worth a try.”
The first police car arrived a minute later, followed by an ambulance. Two officers stepped from the cruiser, and Tony approached the driver. He knew him from his years with Fort Walton Beach. “Parker, good to see you again.” He nodded at the partner.
After returning the greeting, Bradley Parker looked toward the house, where Kris waited on the porch. “When we were dispatched, they weren’t sure what kind of call it was.”
“When I called it in, I wasn’t sure myself. Turns out it’s a homicide. The lady that lives here sustained multiple stab wounds.”
Parker looked at his partner. “We need the CSI people out here.” He brought his attention back to Tony. “And we’ll put out an APB for the suspect.”
“He left on foot.” Tony glanced at Kris. “The lady on the porch was here when it happened or got here right afterward. The guy went after her, and she ran. She can probably give a good description.” He moved toward the porch, and Parker followed.
“I can tell you what he looked like.” Kris had obviously been listening. “He was five ten or five eleven, well-built, with blond hair. It was long for a guy, touched his shoulders.”
Parker made notes in the pad he’d taken from his pocket. “Facial hair?”
“Goatee and mustache, closely cut.”
“Tattoos?”
“None that I saw.”
After Parker radioed in the description, Tony motioned toward Bella. “Her dog is trained in search and rescue. I’d like to see if they can track him, in case he’s still in the area.”
“That’s good. I’ll go with you.” He turned to his partner. “Stay here. Meet with the detectives and crime scene folks if they arrive before we get back.”
Tony pointed out the path he’d seen the suspect take. Bella moved forward sniffing the air, and Tony followed Kris and her dog.
Parker fell in next to him. “Isn’t the rain going to affect her ability to pick up the trail?”
Kris cast him a glance over her shoulder. “Golden retrievers are air scent dogs, so bad weather doesn’t limit their ability.”
“That’s good.” Parker lowered his voice. “How are you involved?”
“She ran out in front of me.” He also kept his volume low to avoid distracting the woman and dog working in front of them. “I missed her but hit the guy pursuing her.”
“Where is he?”
“He took off, and I lost him. It was dark and pouring rain.”
He shifted his attention to Bella. She was working off-leash, Kris following at a slow jog. The dog’s demeanor was different from when they’d performed their search in the woods. Her movements held excitement, as if she’d picked up on what her human wanted and was sure the prize was just ahead.
Bella led them between two other adjoining yards before turning to trot along the edge of the road. Suddenly, she stopped and retraced several steps. After walking in a couple of circles, sniffing the air, she sat.
Kris sighed. “She lost the scent. The killer probably got into a vehicle here.”
As they headed back toward Shannon’s house, Parker introduced himself to Kris and engaged her in conversation that centered around Bella. He loved dogs and seemed fascinated with Bella’s abilities. Or maybe he was trying to put Kris at ease. If so, he was succeeding.
When they got back to Shannon’s, the CSI people hadn’t arrived yet. Kris leaned against her car, and Parker approached. “Do you mind answering a few questions?”
“Not at all.”
He pulled a notepad from his pocket. “What happened here tonight?”
“I had dinner with my friend Shannon. I went to use the bathroom before leaving, and when I came out, she was on the floor bleeding. A man was standing over her with a knife.”
“Did you hear anything before you came out?”
“Between the bathroom’s exhaust fan and the music playing, I barely heard the doorbell. The guy took off after me but slipped in Shannon’s blood and fell. That gave me a chance to get out.”
“Do you know who he was?”
“Shannon and I met him while we were boating this past weekend.”
“Do you have a name?”
“Just a first. Joe. It was early Sunday morning, shortly before daylight. We were in Choctawhatchee Bay, had lines out behind us and were trolling. We heard a big splash, figured someone had dropped anchor. Shannon shined her flashlight in that direction, and a boat was there.”
“Do you know what kind?”
“An older Sea-Pro, white with blue trim, twenty-one foot, a one-hundred-fifty-horse Yamaha on the back.”
Parker lifted his brows. “Those are some impressive details.”
“My dad owns—owned a charter business. I know boats.”
“I don’t suppose you noticed the registration numbers.”
She gave him a half smile. “I’m good but not that good.”
“That’s where this Joe was?”
“Yeah. He was standing with his back to us, leaning over the side holding a rope or something. He turned around, still holding it in one hand, and lifted the other to shield his eyes from Shannon’s flashlight.”
“What happened then?”
“I jumped on him for sitting there without at least a stern light. We could have hit him. He said the bulb had burned out.”
“Any other conversation?”
“After Shannon asked and he told us his name, she swung the flashlight around to introduce the two of us. Shannon’s always been super friendly.”
Parker frowned. “First names or last names, too?”
“First names.”
“Anything else?”
“I think that’s it. We motored away.”
After several more questions, Parker took down Kris’s contact information. “The detectives will want you to do a composite and will probably ask you to try to point out where you saw the boater. That splash you heard probably wasn’t an anchor. They’ll want your friend’s phone, too. Do you know where it is?”
“On the kitchen counter. She was cooking when I called her with my ETA. I noticed it when I got there.”
Tony shook his head. “It wasn’t there when I went inside.”
“It had to be. It’s beside—” Her eyes widened. “He took it.”
“What do you mean?” Parker asked.
“The killer. I told you he was standing over Shannon holding a knife. His other hand was in his pocket. I’m guessing he’d just swiped Shannon’s phone.”
Lead filled Tony’s gut. “That’s not good.”
“Why?”
As soon as she’d asked the question, her jaw went slack. “He took Shannon’s phone, hoping it would help him locate Shannon’s friends.”
Tony nodded, that lead weight expanding into a boulder.
“One friend in particular.”
