Over Her Dead Body (13 page)

“I’m on it.” The CSI tech said as he nonchalantly grabbed the open cell phone as he passed by. He came around the table and opened his kit. He pulled out an evidence bag. He held the phone out so the detective could look. The screen was dark. The CSI tech had white latex gloves on his hands. He pushed a button to activate the screen. The screen lit up and showed that a call had been in progress for one hour and twenty minutes. The CSI Tech looked up at the detective who had a sly grin on his face. The detective motioned for him to close the phone and bag it. The tech filled out a chain of evidence transfer voucher and set it aside. He then used a plastic putty knife to scoop most of the vomit into another evidence bag. He filled out a chain of custody form on it as well and stood up.

“Take those up and wait in your car. And send the EMT’s down. After everyone is gone, go ahead and finish working the scene.” Martinez nodded and headed up the stairs.

The EMT’s came down and helped unstrap the officers and get them up the stairs. Gary walked up on his own but Frank had to be moved out on a stretcher.

Before the ambulance took off, the detective stuck his head in the door and addressed the two officers. “Detective Hammond will be up at the hospital in a couple hours to take your statements. Give him your full cooperation. As typical in these kinds of situations, you will probably be put on paid leave while they sort things out.” The detective shut the door and shook his head as he walked away. The day pigs fly. He thought. That’s when those two will return to active duty. The detective walked over
to
the CSI tech’s vehicle and signed the chain of custody forms for the cell phone and the vomit. He sent Martinez back in to finish and he took off for the CSI office.

The detective was feeling exhausted as he entered and knew he had another long day ahead of him. He spoke to the supervising CSI and asked for DNA to be placed on rush. First, he wanted the girl’s DNA tested to confirm identity and second, he needed proof of identity that the man who had escaped custody was indeed Michael Bander. If they couldn’t prove that, they may not get a search warrant. It could have been anybody in the woods. There needed to be definitive proof that it was Michael Bander. If they couldn’t produce it; no warrant,
and
no DA would touch the case. Michael Bander would walk. The detective told the lead CSI where the vehicle was reported abandoned and asked for a full workup on the car after they had finished running the other tests. The detective made his way to the waiting room, took off his jacket and tucked it under his head. He began running through the details of the crime scene in his head trying to put the pieces together. Something about this one wasn’t making sense. It’s as if all the evidence was pointing right at Bander for the murder, but his instincts were crying foul. Something wasn’t right and he couldn’t put his finger on it.
‘…And their weapons in the trunk…’Why would a murderer on the run from the law, leave behind two guns?
The question floated its way up to his consciousness as he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 17

Michael quietly worked his way along a neighboring street. It hadn’t taken him long to find an unlocked garage. There were vehicles in the driveway which gave him some hope that there might not be any in the garage. His concern was that someone would come in and his snoring would give him away. Michael opened the door quietly and stepped in. He put his left hand over the front of the
Maglite
to block most of the light. He turned it on and looked around using only the smallest beam necessary. He exhaled relief. No car. He looked up and found a loft with a pull down ladder.
Even better
. He thought. Michael was happy to have at least one thing go right in this long night where everything else has gone so wrong. He reached up and pulled the rope to extend the ladder. He climbed to the top of the ladder and looked around before climbing all the way in. There were boxes stacked everywhere. One was marked Christmas tree, another was marked pictures, and others were marked books. There were a few older bicycles, some wooden chairs, and a couple of trunks. There was plenty of floor space to sleep on. Michael climbed the rest of the way into the loft and reached back through to pull the ladder back up. Michael searched through some of the boxes and found a couple of quilts that he laid out and a small blanket that he bunched up and used as a pillow.

Michael lie down and let his body rest. The hard wood floor offered no comfort and the quilts weren’t very thick. If only he could rest his head on a fluffy pillow on a warm bed in a cozy room. He imagined April next to him, curled up under his arm. The thought made him smile and sleep carried him away to a better place. A place where love and laughter filled the air and dirty cops didn’t exist. A place where April was waiting for him, smiling with her hand stretched out toward him. He smiled at her and grasped her hand. She looked at him and smiled. She said something to him but no sound could be heard. Michael smiled as if he could hear her and she led him away.

Morning came. Car doors in the driveway opened and closed. Engines started and drove away. Michael remained asleep, lost in his own world. He mumbled occasionally and his head would move from one side to the other. Michael was oblivious to the world around him. Dreams came and went. Darkness would take him. Then, out of the darkness April would appear and the world would open itself to him. She kept saying something, but no sound reached his ears. She led him to the same place over and over. He followed her, wanting to be led. She was trying to tell him something but he couldn’t understand. What did she want him to see? He would walk with her to the same place. There were people everywhere. Children ran by with cotton candy. A Ferris wheel turned slowly up ahead. There was a tilt-a-whirl somewhere to the left. Everywhere he looked, there were vendors beckoning them to play some game. She always led him to a place by the water where people stood around feeding the fish. She stopped there and looked around as if she was looking for something. A concerned look would cross her face and she would say something to him and then look around. Michael looked around with her but didn’t know what she was looking for. She looked back at him and her look went from concern to panic. Michael watched her lips. What was she telling him? What was she trying to say? Michael could feel his own heart beginning to beat faster as he began to feel April’s panic. She was saying two words over and over. Michael looked around. Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing and was staring at them. The game vendors had stopped beckoning. People walking by stopped dead still and turned their heads. Children lowered their cotton candy and stared wide eyed. Michael’s heart was beating fast. He turned his head back toward April. A man in a dark suit and sunglasses was standing about twenty yards away holding a gun pointed in their direction. April was kneeling and in her arms was a young girl with brown curly hair. Her arms hung down to the sides and an ice cream cone had fallen to the ground. There was blood coming from the girl’s stomach and head. She looked beautiful like an angel. Michael’s heart sank at the sight of her. April looked up with tears streaming down her face. She spoke to him again. All sound had faded away but her words shot through him loud and clear.
“Find her!”

Michael bolted upright out of his dream. Sweat was pouring down his face. He wiped it off with his hands. For a moment he had forgotten where he was at. On some level he expected to wake up back in his own bed next to April. That none of this had happened and that it had all been just a dream. Then everything that had happened sunk back in and he stood up with the weight of the world on his shoulders once again. Michael folded up the blankets and stowed them away. The loft had grown hot and he was ready for some fresh air. He was going to meet April at 2:00. He was dirty and hungry and not sure what he was going to do.
Find her
. The words seemed to find their way to his consciousness. Find who? Hadn’t he already done that? Isn’t that what got him in this mess to begin with? Michael shook his head and cleared the thoughts away. He lowered the ladder and was about to leave. He took one last look around and his eyes stopped dead center on a box on the left side of the room. Michael nodded and knew exactly what he needed to do.

Chapter 18

It seemed like seconds rather than hours. At least that was the thought going through
D
etective James’ head when a CSI tech woke him up to inform him of the information that he inquired about was ready. The waiting area also served as a break room and there was coffee brewing on a small counter and the television overhead was on with the morning news quietly streaming. The detective pushed himself across the floor to the coffee and poured himself a steaming cup and then made his way inside the building and to the far end where the CSI supervisor, Thomas Crane was sitting at his desk going through paperwork. Crane was short, with grey hair and spectacles. He was another example of a CSI that was far too brilliant to be stuck in little old Angel Falls. He was called ‘Doc’ by everyone who knew him. His parents were so sure he would be a doctor, that they nicknamed him when he was eight years old. Somehow it just seemed to follow him.

“Sit down
D
etective.” Crane motioned with his hand without looking up. He flipped through some more papers making little grunting sounds like ‘hmf’ and ‘mm hm’. He had a high pitch
ed voice but not so high that it
was annoying. It was quite
soothing actually and really allowed anyone speaking to him to be able to hear his passion for his work clearly in his voice. He finally put the papers down and looked up at the detective while pushing his spectacles up on his nose. “So what do you make of all this
D
etective?”

The detective rubbed his eyes and pulled at his face both indicating exhaustion and trying to wake up at the same time. “You tell me Doc. You’re the expert.”

“Well, I have intellect and evidence, but as you know, many of innocent people have been wrongly imprisoned based on intellect and evidence. Experience with people and pure gut instinct have found truth where science has failed. I would never suggest one without the other, but I am curious what is experience and instinct telling us about the case?”

The detective exhaled and took a long draw on his coffee. “Well
D
oc, logic tells me that this guy has to be guilty. He was found in the dead of night digging up this girl’s body. How could he possibly do that if he didn’t know she was there? And how would he know she was there unless he helped put her there? But why buy a house close to where you buried the body? And he left the officer’s guns in the vehicle. I still have to press forward with
the
idea this guy’s our perp, it’s just there are more inconsistencies than I like to see. I don’t feel right about it if you know what I mean.”

Crane put his elbows on the desk and removed his spectacles and rubbed at his eyes. “Well, I’m afraid this isn’t going to get any easier for you. We don’t have a ballistics match yet but we haven’t fin
ished searching the database
. We just now got the squad car back here and we’ve compared Bander’s fingerprints with the database and nothing has come up. No record. He’s a Biology teacher at the school you know. He has an impeccable record. The call made from the cell phone you recovered was to Bander’s cell phone. It was likely sent to his voicemail which recorded for quite some time. That will be an interesting conversation.”

“What about the DNA? Any hits on that?” The detective asked.

“This is where the puzzle gets really interesting.” Crane turned a file folder around facing the detective. “We have DNA results back on the girl. You can see her allele’s right here.” Crane pointed with his finger to a series of black bars scattered over a graft. Alleles are an alternative form of a gene and found at a specific spot on a chromosome. The coding determines specific traits that can be passed on from one generation to the next.

“I don’t see anything odd about it. Did she come up in the database or something?” The detective asked.

“Well, no, that’s not what’s going to bother you.” Crane said.

“Bother me? What are you talking about
D
oc?” The detective asked, getting agitated.

Crane held up a clear plastic sheet with writing on it. “We also had finished the DNA on the vomit you gave us.”

“Let me guess, you got a hit in the database for an unsolved?” The detective asked. It was rare around here, but sometimes they would get DNA from a perp and it would solve a whole series of cases in which DNA was found at the scene but there was no person to match it to in the database. It was always a relief because of how many cases you were able to close all in one shot.

“No, that’s not it I’m afraid. This is Bander’s alleles.” Crane held up the clear sheet and then slid it over the top of the girl’s. The detective’s eyes locked onto the sheet and froze there. He was so shocked, he about spilled his coffee.

The detective looked up at Crane and then back at the DNA records. “It’s his kid?”

“99.9 percent match. I told you it wasn’t going to make your job any easier.” Crane said.

“A jury would have convicted Bander on what we already have. This is icing on the cake. He’s got to be our guy. We get a search warrant yet?”

Crane nodded. “Ready to go. The morning shift is in, so whenever you are ready…”

“What about the DA? Does she know about Frank and Gary?” The detective asked.

“You think I’m going to break the news to her?” Crane put his glasses back on and shook his head. “That’d be like taking food from a bear. We scooped the vomit, you play with the bear.” Crane said smiling.

The detective stood up and smiled. “Just throw me on the grenade why don’t ya?”

“I said experience and instinct were important
D
etective. Just not
as
important as science and intellect. A fellow can sacrifice a pawn and still take down the king. But you very rarely throw your queen under the bus.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m a pawn?”

“Of course not, that would be silly. I’m suggesting that I’m the queen. You’re more of a…” Crane looked up for a second. “A knight. Still valuable, but not as likely to get the job done without the queen.”

“I think when this is over, I might have to challenge you and prove you different.”

“I look forward to it. If you survive the bear that is…” Crane said. The detective laughed and headed out the door.