Dirty Deeds (6 page)

“Dude, you know it’s all kinds of wrong to be doing background searches on priests.”

“Yep, which is why you’re going to do it. You love the wrong stuff. Check Father’s DeCosta and Xavier while you’re at it.”

“Fine, but the least you can do is get me seats behind the dugout at a Nationals game.”

“You’re not a baseball fan,” Jack said.

“No, but I can sell them to Special Agent Drummond for an exorbitant amount of money. He’s a dumbass like that.”

“Fine, but I need answers as soon as you get them.”

“When I get them you’ll have them. But it might be tomorrow on the knife. Not everyone dances to your tune like I do.”

“I appreciate it, Carver.”

“I know you do. And I’d also appreciate a long weekend away with my wife. To somewhere tropical. And a babysitter to keep the kids.”

“That could probably be arranged too. And just think, you’ll be sitting behind a desk the whole time for this case. You won’t get shot at or banged up in a car crash.”

“It’s the only reason I’m helping you out. I’m getting too old for this shit. There’s a reason I never worked in the field.”

“Because you could never pass the shooting requirements?”

“That too. Catch you later.”

Carver hung up and I knew we were in good hands. If there were secrets to find out Carver would have them before too long. No one could keep a secret from him.

“H
e wouldn’t have
lived more than a few months past his birthday,” I said once I’d completed the autopsy. Or at least the parts that I could.

My supplies were limited and I didn’t have on site testing capabilities, so the samples I’d taken would go to the mainland. What they did with them was up to them. But it didn’t take sophisticated equipment to see that Leon Stein’s body was riddled with cancer.

“He had a few blockages in his heart, but not at the critical stage yet. But the cancer in his lungs would’ve shut him down before too long. We should probably check with Doctor Hizumi to see if he was being treated. But official cause of death was caused by the dagger to the heart. It pierced the anterior wall of the left ventricle. There were no other signs of struggle.”

Jack had rigged up a white board next to Joe’s desk. While I’d been looking at Leon’s internal organs, he’d been making a timeline of events and running background checks and financials on Leon’s family.

“So time of death is narrowed down to somewhere between four and four-thirty. That’s not a lot of time to make the kill and pose the body. According to Joe’s notes, they keep the doors to the courtyard blocked after Mass so the priests can go back to the clergy house and pray and rest between services. So no parishioners followed the priests in that direction. And all three priests said the same thing. They walked back to the clergy house together and no one was in the courtyard when they passed through.”

“That’s all fine and good about parishioners not be allowed to go through to the courtyard after Mass, but Leon Stein was in that service and you’re telling me no one noticed that he walked back there?”

“Sister Teresa and Sister Magdalena both say they saw him leave the front of the church. They noticed Leon specifically because one of the parishioners had to steady him on the way out. They said he was moving slow and wasn’t looking well.”

“Certainly not well enough to fight back against whoever had the dagger.” I sewed Leon back up and pulled the sheet up over him. “So no one saw him outside the church or slip around the side of the building to get to it that way?”

“No, in fact, a couple of different people mentioned that they saw him get on his bike and head toward his house.”

“What the hell?” I said. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Tell me about it. There were more than a hundred people in that church on a Saturday afternoon. Everyone saw Leon inside the church and dozens of people saw him leaving. No one puts him in the vicinity of the courtyard.”

“Where’s Leon’s bicycle?” I asked.

“Good question. It wasn’t at the crime scene.”

“So maybe Leon circled back around to the side of the church for a meeting he didn’t want anyone to know about, his killer stabs him in the chest, and then escapes by stealing Leon’s bicycle and making a clean getaway.” It sounded ridiculous the moment the words started coming out of my mouth. But it was all I had at the moment.

“Yeah, pretty much. Something isn’t adding up. Someone is lying.”

“That’s a huge surprise,” I said, batting my eyelashes. “Everyone is always so good at telling the truth. You think it’s the priests?”

“That’s the most logical explanation if you’re just looking at time of death and location. But it’s the explanation that doesn’t sit well with my gut.”

“What about motive? Anything popping that will tell us why Leon was killed?”

“Not a thing. I’ve checked financials. This island isn’t exactly an economic hotspot. And by island estimations, the Steins were considered well off. They own some of the businesses in town. A gas station, a flower shop, the boat rental place, some of the cabanas along the water. They’ve got everything diversified in safe places and they don’t spend above their means.

“Three of Leon and Maria’s children are deceased. Their two sons are both retired—one was a doctor and the other an attorney—and they’ve both lived in the states with their families for more than forty years. The three remaining daughters all still live here on the island with their families. They manage some of Leon and Maria’s properties, collect rents, and stay on top of upkeep. One of them has some gambling debts, but Maria and Leon have always bailed her out of trouble. And I’m not seeing anything that pops from the younger generations either.

“Everything is in both their names, so if one passes the other inherits. I’ll need to see if Leon had a will. Maybe he made some recent changes to it that Maria didn’t agree with.”

“We need to talk to her too. But if her health is as bad as people are saying then she wouldn’t have the strength to kill her husband.”

“I know, but we always look at family first. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the spouse or family member is responsible. Especially when it’s up close and personal like that. That takes a lot of rage to look into the eyes of someone you know and plunge a knife in their chest.”

“That’s something else,” I said. “We know the killer was covered in blood. He got brushed up against the fence and left evidence. It would’ve been really hard to intermingle back with the crowd without being noticed.”

I peeled off the latex gloves and took off the trash bad I’d used to protect my clothes. My skin could breathe again and I rolled up all the soiled material and dumped it in another trash bag, tying it up tight. And then I stood in front of one of the fans and held my shirt out away from my skin.

“Maybe he was wearing all black.”

“Maybe. But we’re not talking about a little blood. We’re talking arterial blood. He would’ve been saturated. I’m surprised we didn’t find more blood farther down the path to the road.”

I backed up from the fan and went to stand in front of Jack. “If I’m stabbing you in the chest I’m going to give the initial strike, and then I’m going to put my entire weight behind it. Especially as a woman.”

“So a woman could’ve done the job?”

“Sure, but you and I both know the knife isn’t a particularly favorite method of killing by women. So the percentage is small. But it exists.”

I demonstrated by making a fist and striking Jack in the middle of his chest. And then I used my other hand and my body to push against him. My entire front was pressed against him with the effort to show how much force would be needed to push the knife into the heart.

“See. The killer would’ve been covered in blood. Even the neck and face if he was shorter than Leon.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Jack said. “I always enjoy it when we do the reenactments. But you don’t smell all that great right now, so maybe we can go through the motions from a distance.”

I rolled my eyes and gave him a middle finger.

“Ooh, that’s a very romantic proposition. I’m happy to accommodate you after a shower.”

My elbow connected with his gut and he groaned dramatically. And then he smacked me on the behind.

“You’re pushing it, mister. I’m tired, grumpy, smelly, and hungry.”

“And yet, I’m still proud to call you my wife.”

“Have you been drinking while I’ve been doing an autopsy? Because you have entirely too much energy considering the day we’ve had.”

“I’m punch drunk and running on fumes. Lets lock up and head back to the cabana. There’s chocolate cake and champagne in the fridge.”

“That’s a dinner I can get behind.” I went back into the cell and made sure everything was as clean as I could get it. I’d used the hose attached to the wall to clean the floors, but if I was Joe, I’d power wash the whole thing with bleach before I put anyone in there.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving the body in here like this. There’s got to be a better way to lock him up safely.”

“I’ve already tried Joe’s number. It went straight to voicemail. I can’t imagine what he could possibly be doing.”

“Or who. It’s such a mystery,” I said dryly. “We’ve got evidence and a body, and no place to lock them up tight. A half-hearted kick to the door and someone could be in here in a heartbeat and steal the body.”

“Joe doesn’t seem particularly worried about theft.”

“Joe doesn’t seem particularly worried about anything that’s not contained in the space between Camille’s thighs.”

Jack snorted out a laugh. “We’ll lock the cell just to be safe and take the evidence with us. Once Joe joins the land of the living again we’ll hand everything over. Knowing Carver, we’re going to have a late night ahead of us.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re having cake and champagne. That’s brain food.”

I got a whiff of myself and grimaced. Standing over a dead body for the last couple of hours without proper ventilation, combined with the fact that I’d run out of sweat from dehydration about an hour ago, and I could barely stand to be in the same room with myself.

I locked the cell door and Jack gathered up the electronics, the bags of evidence, and the statements from witnesses, and put them in a box. I closed the windows and shut off the lights and we locked the door behind us. It was then we both realized we didn’t have a car and would have to walk back to the cabana. Fortunately, the island was only a couple miles in either direction, so we didn’t have far to go.

“There is a silver lining to all this,” Jack said, as we started toward the beach to walk the shoreline.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“I’ve officially had enough time to recuperate and can now have sex again.”

I stopped in my tracks and Jack went a few steps ahead before he realized I was no longer beside him.

“What?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

“I’ve spent the last two hours hunched over a body and I smell of things that no living person should smell of. And
you
want to have sex?”

“You’ll be good as new once you shower. Twice.”

I narrowed my eyes and started walking again, a little faster this time. “If by sex you mean you giving me a full body massage and letting me sleep for a couple of hours, then yes, I’ve recuperated enough to have sex too.”

Jack hefted the box under one arm and then took my hand. “Look at you, already making excuses for why you can’t have sex. And you thought you weren’t going to be any good at marriage.” He squeezed my hand and then nudged me playfully.

“Shut up,” I said. “And maybe ask me again after the cake. Cake fixes a lot of things.”

J
ack had been
right. It had taken two shampooing’s and scrubbings before I was able to stand myself, though the second one might have been more for Jack’s benefit.

He’d brought me a piece of cake and a glass of champagne to eat in the shower. Jack had grown up wealthy—the son of a tobacco farmer—and I’d always imagined that this was how the other half lived—eating chocolate cake in the shower and having a man who looked like my husband pouring cold champagne over my very heated skin.