Amazed that Sandy wasn’t putting up more opposition, Jude said, “Great, so I’ll see you then. Don’t fall down a mine shaft or anything.”
Debbie giggled softly, then said, “Jude. Thanks. This means a lot to me.”
“I’m happy for you,” Jude said, thinking,
Jerk
.
They said good-bye and she poked the cell phone into her back pocket. Sticking her head in the back door, she surveyed the damage. They’d shifted the washing machine into the kitchen, and the laundry room no longer had a floor. Jude picked her way across the joist framing to the kitchen. Koertig was right. She couldn’t see girders, just another floor about eight inches below.
She found her colleague on the front verandah talking to a couple of the rookie detectives assigned to the case.
“They were on their way out here already,” Koertig said, handing her a document. “The necropsy report came in. You want to read it while we lift the rest of that floor?”
“Knock yourself out.”
The men collected up various tools Koertig must have found in the garage and traipsed into the house. A few minutes later, Jude heard the sounds of sawing and torn timber. She took her time reading the report. Coco had died instantly from a single shot to the head. Time of death was estimated at 4:00 p.m., which ruled Pippa out completely. Her tire was still being repaired at 3:36 p.m. She could not have made it from Towaoc to her uncle’s home in under half an hour.
Maulle’s killers had spent almost forty minutes at the property. The bloody footprints suggested only one of them was upstairs with the victim. Was one man responsible for the hit while the other waited in the car, keeping a lookout? Oscar the parrot had recited what could have been a cell phone conversation in Russian.
“Detective?” One of the rookies interrupted her. “You might want to see this.”
Jude followed him to the laundry room, where Koertig was poised over a recess in the floor taking photographs. Blinking against the flash pops, Jude stared down at a dust-covered stainless steel box the size of a small file drawer. It was padlocked. She handed her car keys to the detective she’d followed inside.
“You’ll find bolt cutters in the back of my Dakota.”
Koertig and the other rookie hauled the box out and carried it into the living room.
“This had better be good,” Jude said.
She needed to return to Paradox by this evening. It was time she visited Harrison Hawke for an update, and she wanted to help Agatha get organized for the potluck tomorrow. On her way out of town, she needed to drag her deputy away from dog training and send him to Telluride. SAC Hill wanted someone who knew the festival present at the first meeting with the organizers.
“Go ahead,” Koertig told the young detective who’d returned with the bolt cutters.
The lock fell to the floor a few seconds later and everyone stared at the box. Koertig, enjoying the prerogative of the primary, lifted the lid. A cloudbust of white Styrofoam packing peanuts floated out. Jude picked up a stack of evidence bags from a coffee table and pulled on a pair of fresh latex gloves. The young detectives fished around their pockets. Koertig referred them to a stack of gloves the forensic team had helpfully left on the dining room sideboard. A few pairs he’d split lay nearby along with a pile of spilled fingerprint powder. The crime scene cleanup crew would be in on Thursday to return the house to its pristine pre-murder condition, a service paid for by Maulle’s insurance company.
Jude scooped the peanuts from the box, pausing to enable Koertig to photograph the contents as she lifted them out. “Looks like our vic backed up his computer after all.”
She pulled out a couple of zip drives and a storage box of CDs, all labeled with dates.
“Floppy discs,” one of the detectives marveled. “You don’t see these anymore.”
“Old home movies.” Jude bagged several Super 8mm reels, then dug down to a set of notebooks. She held them up for Koertig, scooped away the last of the peanuts, and lifted out a heavy stack of large yellow business envelopes.
She opened the first and withdrew a set of glossy photographs. They had the heavily saturated hues of 1980s Kodacolor. She only had to glance at the subjects and poses to know why Maulle had hidden this stash away.
“Child pornography,” she said, sliding the pictures back into their envelope.
“Jesus,” Koertig said. “Why would he want his niece to find this shit?”
“I’ll leave you to figure that out,” Jude said. “I need to get going.”
Koertig walked out to the pickup with her. She could see he’d picked up on her mood. “You okay?”
“When I left Crimes Against Children, I hoped I’d never see that stuff again.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Koertig said.
“Record everything,” Jude told him. “Copy all the images and send them to CVIP for analysis and victim identification.”
Koertig shoved his hands in his pockets as though he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “I thought Maulle was an okay guy.”
“So did his family,” Jude said. “Let’s hold off breaking the news for a few days. They have enough to deal with, and we need to process all the evidence before we leap to conclusions. There’s a lot more to this case than porn.”
“You got it.”
“I’ll check in later.” She had a thought. “You might want to start with the notebooks. They could help put everything else in context.”
“Great,” said Koertig. “Diaries of a sicko.”
*
Jude walked around the side of Deputy Sherman’s house and crossed the long back yard to the wire mesh fence that surrounded the dog-training area. As she’d expected, Tulley was there living his dream, hanging upside down on a climbing frame while Smoke’m licked his face. Gavin Sherman had his K-9 poised on a teeter-totter. Jude had the impression the Belgian Malinois thought the exercise was child’s play and only tolerated these puerile games to indulge his human.
Sherman gave Jude a proud wave and called, “Afternoon, Detective. Beer’s in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Tulley lost his balance and fell off the frame trying to greet her. Yelling, “Watch this, ma’am,” he flailed a padded arm and encouraged Smoke’m to attack.
The hound sat down next to him and yawned. Jude could not foresee them bringing home a $10,000 prize. She followed the concrete path to the back door and located the kitchen. The Shermans were remodeling. Drawers were stacked on the kitchen counter next to a belt sander, and various tools were strewn around.
As Jude hunted for a bottle opener, she realized she wasn’t alone in the house. At first she thought the sounds she could hear were coming from a TV, then she listened more carefully and froze. Small shrill moans were punctuated with thuds, as if a woman in the back of the house was tied up and struggling to free herself.
For a split second, Jude considered rushing outside to get help, but the sounds were getting louder and she couldn’t take the risk. She unholstered her weapon, flipped the safety, and crept rapidly along the hallway toward the back of the house. Her mind raced through possible scenarios. Sherman had a wife. Had she been accosted in her own home while her husband was out back teaching his dog to climb ladders?
“Oh, God. Stop. Please. I can’t take any more.” Frantic female cries came from behind the door a few feet away.
Jude closed the distance, soft-checked the handle, then kicked the door open and stepped back, yelling, “County Sheriff. Show me your hands.”
She advanced into the room in a semicircle, checking over her shoulder to make sure there were no other assailants. Two adults occupied the bed. Both had their backs to her, the male kneeling over the female.
He raised his hands and said, “Oh, man.”
The “victim” he was having sex with craned around to demand, “Who are you? What are you doing in my home?” She was red-faced and panting.
Jude stalked over to the bed to get a better look at the “offender.” She lowered her weapon. “Bobby Lee?”
“Do you two know each other?” The victim pulled a sheet around her breasts.
“Tell her,” Jude invited.
“This is Tulley’s boss,” Bobby Lee said.
“Oh, crap. Please don’t say anything,” the blonde begged.
“Are you Mrs. Sherman?”
“Yes, I’m Crystal.” A panicky whine. “Where’s Gavin?”
Jude was incredulous. “You two are fucking while her husband is out in the yard?”
Crystal gave her a sulky look. “If he didn’t live out there, this wouldn’t be happening.”
“Don’t you have a day job?” Jude asked.
“I sell male enhancement products on eBay.”
Bobby Lee asked, “Do those work?”
“You don’t need any help in that department, sugar,” Crystal said, placing a purposeful paw beneath the sheets.
Jude groaned. “What were you thinking?” she asked Bobby Lee.
Before he could reply, the thud of footsteps in the hallway was followed by a shrill bleat of dismay. Tulley stepped into the bedroom, his ears cranberry red. In disbelief, he stared at Jude, then at the gun she still held loosely at her side.
“Don’t shoot,” he squeaked. “It’s all my fault.”
“You two, get dressed, for Chrissakes.” She holstered the Glock, took Tulley’s arm, and escorted him out into the living room. “You knew this was going on?”
“Bobby said it wouldn’t matter none to you,” Tulley whined. “If I would have known—”
“
I’m
not the problem.” Jude marched him to the kitchen and pointed out the window. “
That’s
the problem.”
Even as she said the words, she realized she was looking at an opportunity. Being “cheated on” by Bobby Lee meant she could terminate their “relationship” and receive sympathy. Her hetero credentials would remain intact but she could get rid of the “boyfriend” who legitimized them. She and Bobby Lee had been trying to find a way to close down their “beard” operation, mostly because it cramped his style. But Jude also disliked the deception. It was one thing to leave assumptions uncorrected, another to have to lie blatantly to the few people she felt close to.
Backtracking slightly, she said, “What I’m saying is,
of course
I’m upset, but I’m not going to go crazy and risk my career over a no-good, cheating boyfriend. But out there is a husband who’s a law officer.”
“I told Bobby Lee this was a darn fool idea.”
“Well, he’s not a big listener when it comes to chasing skirt.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Tulley gave her a sickly grin. “I mean—”
“It’s a bit late to spare my feelings,” Jude said.
“You have to understand something.” Tulley’s tone took on a frantic quality. Predictably, he tried to paint his best friend in a rosier light. “That Crystal, she’s a man chaser. She can’t keep her hands to herself. Bobby Lee said she’s processing something and acting out inappropriately.”
“Please tell me you’re not sleeping with her, too.”
“No, she laid off of me soon as she saw Bobby Lee.”
“Well, that’s lovely.”
Tulley studied the floor. “Sorry.”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Jude gave his shoulder a poke. “Now, listen carefully. You can’t tell anyone about this. If Sherman found out, well, I’d hate to think what he might do. You don’t want a colleague ruining his career over a cheating wife, do you?”
“No, ma’am.”