The Right Call (6 page)

“How long has the victim been dead?”

“Judging from the condition of the body, she’s been dead at least twelve hours. If the bullet’s trajectory proves to be a straight line from the middle of the street to the balcony, we
could
be looking at a drive-by. And since gunshots were reported in this neighborhood shortly after Davison was hit, and the bullet that killed Ms. Roberts is a nine-millimeter, it wouldn’t surprise me if she was shot with the same gun. Ballistics will tell us soon.”

“If a gang’s responsible, I won’t let up until every last one of them is behind bars!”

“We’ve already got our snitch at the high school nosing around, Chief. If a gang’s marking its territory, you can bet someone’s bragging about it. Plus we should start seeing graffiti again.”

“That’s all we need. I will
not
give them one inch of this town.”

Trent unwrapped a Tootsie Pop and stuck it in his mouth. “We’re talking to other tenants in the building and neighbors in the area. So far, at least a dozen people said they heard the shots last night, in addition to the eight that called us. But no one heard a scream or had any idea that Ms. Roberts had been hit. The roommate was beside herself when she called 9-1-1. Paramedics sedated her.”

“I doubt the victim had a chance to scream,” Brill said. “Probably died instantly.”

“I saw a picture of her. She was beautiful.”

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

Trent shook his head. “No one serious. The roommate said she was friendly, well liked. Couldn’t think of anyone who didn’t like her.”

“Have you checked her computer?”

“Not in great detail, but her emails seemed to be mostly girl talk. She had a couple hundred friends listed on her Facebook page. Nothing stood out to me at first glance, but we’ll dig a little deeper.”

Chapter 7

Brill
got out of her squad car, the night air thick with humidity, the cricket choir she’d enjoyed the night before grating on her like the sound of a novice practicing the violin.

She trudged toward the front door, her purse strapped over her shoulder. The only thing hurting worse than her feet was her heart.

She pushed open the door and let the scent of flowers draw her into the comfort of home.

Kurt came out of the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her. “You must be glad to get this day behind you.”

“I’d hardly call it
behind
me, but at least I’m home. Nothing gets under my skin like someone’s child being murdered on my watch. And now I’ve got two.”

He didn’t say anything and just held her. She tried to imagine the weight she carried being lifted from her. It didn’t work.

“Hi, Mom.” Emily came down the stairs, holding Carter on her hip. She moved his hand up and down. “Wave hello to Grandma.”

“Hi there, big boy.” Brill took the smiling baby into her arms and gave him a tender hug, reveling in his obvious delight to see her.

“Dinner won’t be ready for thirty minutes.” Vanessa stood in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands with a towel. “Why don’t you go put your feet up?”

“Thanks, honey. That sounds wonderful. How’s Drew Langley holding up?”

“He’s still pretty fragile.”

“Come on, little man,” Emily coaxed Carter, “let’s go outside and swing.”

Brill handed the baby back to Emily. She seemed so mature for eleven, more like a little mother than his aunt.

“Let’s get you off your feet.” Kurt took Brill by the hand and led her to the couch. He had her stretch out, took off her shoes, and then began to gently massage her feet.

“How’s that?” he said.

“Feels soooo good.” She yielded herself completely to the arms of the couch, almost as if she were floating on water. “Did you drive over to the Pigeon Forge store?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Business is up. We got the sign man to come out and change the wording on the marquis. Truthfully, I’m much more interested in how you’re doing.”

Brill closed her eyes. “Kurt, we put a beautiful young coed with part of her face missing into a body bag and notified her parents. How do you
think
I’m doing?” She paused for several seconds, then softened her tone. “Sorry. I keep wondering how I’d feel if it were Vanessa.”

“Did this girl go to Stanton?”

“Yes. Her name is Skyler Roberts. The medical examiner said she had been dead at least twelve hours when her roommate found her. Ballistics confirmed that the nine-millimeter bullet that killed her came from the same gun that killed Tal Davison. We’ve now recovered a matching bullet lodged in the wall at Woodall’s Grocery. And a second matching bullet in the door at Milligan’s Realty Company. Our best guess right now—and it’s only a guess—is that the shooter fired randomly
along a specific route to send some kind of message, and Davison and Roberts were collateral damage.”

“You think it’s gang activity?”

“We have to consider it. A gang could
have been marking its territory, or it could have been part of an initiation. But it doesn’t feel right to me.”

“Have you found graffiti?”

“Yes, but it’s different from anything we’ve seen before. We sent pictures of it up to the FBI field office in Knoxville. Maybe their gang unit can identify the gang for us.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, every town in the region has had gang problems.”

“I’m not
responsible
for every town, Kurt. If our zero tolerance policy failed, we need to regroup quickly and find out which gang it is and get those guilty of these killings behind bars. I will not have this town terrorized by thugs.”

“Mom?”

Brill opened her eyes and saw Vanessa standing next to Kurt.

“The evening news is on and they released the name of the female student who got shot. I knew Skyler.”

“You did?”

“Yes, her roommate, Olivia Jones, is in my singles’ group at church. She invited Skyler to come play volleyball with us a few weeks ago. Several of us went over to Beanie’s afterward for coffee.”

“What can you tell me about her?” Brill said.

“Not that much. She was from Atlanta. We both were majoring in elementary ed.”

“Did she date anyone from the singles’ group?”

“I don’t know, but Olivia might. She was such a sweet girl. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to kill her.”

“Did Skyler know Tal Davison?”

“I don’t know. You want me to ask Olivia?”

“No, honey. We’ll talk to her, thanks. It’s better if you stay removed from this.”

“Do you think the two shootings are related?”

“We certainly haven’t ruled it out. We’re gathering facts right now.”

Vanessa locked gazes with her. “In other words, you can’t talk about it?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m going back over to Drew’s after dinner. Ethan said he’s still pretty shaken. Are you any closer to knowing who shot his roommate?”

“We’re fact-finding, honey. That’s all I can say right now.”

“Okay. I’m going to check the roast.”

Brill waited until Vanessa went back in the kitchen and then looked over at Kurt. “We haven’t told the media yet that the same gun was used to kill both victims. Don’t say anything.”

“Honey, we’ve been doing this for twenty years. I know the drill by now.”

A smile toyed with the corners of her mouth. “I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence. By the way, did you hear what I told the media this morning about our questioning of Win Davison?”

“Yes, and I’m sure Mayor Roswell and the entire viewing audience could tell he hit a nerve when he asked you to apologize for following procedure.”

“Why, did I come across as defensive?”

“More like protective. It was obvious you weren’t going to let your officers take the heat for doing their jobs.”

“I did say that I understood why Mr. Davison might misinterpret our line of questioning. I also said we have no reason to believe that he was involved in any way.”

“You did. I think everyone got the message. Was Mayor Roswell okay with it?”

“I guess. I’ve been so busy with the investigation that I haven’t had time to coddle the city council. Let him do it.”

Ethan sat in the porch swing at Drew’s, listening to the cicadas and thinking of happy times.

“It’s déjà vu sitting here,” Ethan said. “I’ve got so many memories of hanging out here as a kid.”

Drew pushed the swing a little harder with his feet and flashed a toothy grin. “Remember the time you were pulling me in the wagon, and I stood up and fell out—and got the wind knocked out of me?”

“How could I forget?” Ethan said. “I thought you were dying and it was my fault.”

“Your fault?” Drew poked him with his elbow. “Why would you think that? I was the one clowning around.”

“I don’t know. I always felt responsible to protect you after the baby died. I didn’t want to see your parents cry like that again.”

“I hardly remember it,” Drew said. “Mom and Dad never talk about her. Most of my memories of being a kid are good ones, especially of the two of us.”

“Yeah, too bad we couldn’t bottle our spirit of adventure. We could’ve made a fortune.”

“Our poor mothers. Between the cuts and the sprains and the trips to the emergency room, it was never dull.” Drew laughed. “Do you remember the time I got an ice cube stuck to my tongue? You were cool as a cucumber and I about freaked. I was sure it would never come off.”

“Well, I wasn’t that calm when I got a pair of scissors stuck in my wrist. I nearly passed out from the sight of all that blood. I couldn’t believe you had the guts to pull them out.”

“Only because I was too young and stupid to know that if they’d been stuck in an artery, you
could’ve
bled to death. Our guardian angels were definitely working overtime.”

Ethan looked over at Drew. “Do you remember taking money out of our piggy banks and buying bread and cheese for that sweet old lady who lived on the corner?”

“Oh yeah, Mrs. Dawson … we overheard our parents say she didn’t have money for groceries and was eating dog food. The thought of it made me gag. I remember how good it felt to help her.”

“You want to bet our folks slipped her money but didn’t want to diminish our act of kindness by telling us?”

“Probably. You know, Ethan, when I think back, it seems like the two of us have been joined at the hip for as long as I can remember.”

“Yeah”—Ethan nudged Drew’s shoulder with his own—“I never felt like an only child. Still don’t.”

“Me, either.”

A comfortable silence wrapped itself around them.

Finally Ethan said, “How are you feeling tonight—about the shooting?”

“Numb mostly. Studying helps. The most difficult part is closing my eyes. I still see Tal’s face.”

“I imagine you will for a while. Maybe we should take my mom and dad up on their offer and go stay with them for a few days.”

Drew shook his head. “I appreciate their concern, but I want to stay home.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Well, before this happened, they’d already planned to come see me this weekend. They’re driving in tomorrow morning and staying at Uncle Ralph’s.”

The expression left Drew’s face. “You know I think the world of Uncle T and Aunt Lisa, and I wouldn’t hurt them for the world. But I don’t think I can handle talking about this again.”

“All right. I’ll explain it to them, but they’re going to insist on coming by to check on you. Are you sure you don’t want to call your parents?”

“Positive,” Drew said. “They’ve planned this anniversary cruise for an entire year. Why ruin it for them? Would you call if it were your mom and dad?”

“Probably not. You hungry? Maybe we should order a pizza or something.”

“Sounds good,” Drew said. “But why don’t we wait for Vanessa? She ought to be here soon.”

Ethan got up and stretched, the western sky now fiery orange. He could hardly wait to see her.

Vanessa went up the back steps at Drew Langley’s house and knocked on the door. Through the screen she saw Ethan get up from the kitchen table and walk over to her.

“Come in.” He held open the door. “I talked Drew into turning off the air conditioner for a while and letting in some fresh air. What’ve you got in the Tupperware?”

“Leftover roast beef, potatoes and carrots, rolls, and a salad. And vanilla pudding—compliments of Emily.”

“Wow, does that sound good. We were just going to order a pizza, but a home-cooked meal is so much better. Hey, Drew,” he hollered, “come see what Vanessa brought us.”

She set the containers on the countertop. “I can reheat this right now, if you guys are hungry.”

“We’re starved.” Drew came in the kitchen and hugged her. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I deliberately made more than my family could eat so we could share.”

Drew raised his eyebrows up and down. “I can use the protein. If I don’t ace my English lit final on Tuesday, my scholarship’s going to be in jeopardy.”

“Can’t you postpone taking it?” Vanessa said. “I mean, surely your professor would understand that you’ve been through a terrible trauma.”

“I’m sure he would.” Drew sighed. “But the truth is, I’m so numb at the moment that studying is a welcome escape. I might be messed up a few weeks from now. As long as my mind is still sharp, I think I’d better take the test.”

“And I think I’d better set the table.” Ethan held Vanessa’s face in his hands and kissed her tenderly.

“Careful, Vanessa. He’ll steam up his glasses.”

She giggled and pushed away from Ethan. “It’ll just take a few minutes to get this food on the table.”

She took the lids off the leftovers, aware of the heat scalding her cheeks. Was it insensitive of her to delight in Ethan’s kisses in front of Drew? Would it be more appropriate to keep the mood somber rather than lighthearted?

“Ethan said you knew the gal who was shot. She went to Stanton, but neither of us had met her.”

Vanessa glanced up and realized he was looking at her. “I knew her, but not well. Her roommate, Olivia, is in the young singles’ group at my church. She invited Skyler to play volleyball with us a few weeks ago. We all went out for coffee afterward. That’s not what I consider really
knowing
someone.”