Billion Dollar Mistake by K.C. Crowne
Chapter 11
JOLENE
I was a mess of nerves as I drove in the direction of Bluff Park. Sure, I was a touch nervous about the possible murder, whether or not I’d be able to help. I’d been in this game long enough to know that there was no sense in worrying about something I hadn’t had a chance to assess first.
No – it wasn’t the murder that my stomach was tight as a snare drum over – it was Sawyer.
I’d screwed up last night. Not in the sex. That part was fine. Hell, it was more than that, almost essential. It’d been so long since I’d had halfway decent sex that I’d almost forgotten what it was like. The sex with Sawyer had been far more than halfway decent. Really, there was a damn good chance it was the best sex I’d ever had.
That’s not the part I was stressing about. What I was worried about was everything that had happened after. I’d let Sawyer sleep over for one – huge mistake. I’d cuddled up next to him like he was a damn stuffed animal – second huge mistake. Then I’d had him make me coffee, and on top of it all, I’d made sure he hadn’t left without eating breakfast, doting on him like a worried mother.
Or worse, a worried girlfriend.
So, there I was, driving to a possible murder scene and stressing about the idea of possibly having opened myself up too much to Sawyer. Still in the back of my mind was the little matter of him being a colossal prick to me back in high school. It would’ve been nice for him to at least remember what had happened and apologize for it.
Then again, maybe I was being petty. The guy was rich and powerful and was a hair’s breadth away from running a multibillion-dollar company. Was it realistic to think he might remember being a jerk to some girl with braces and a rolling backpack?
That wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that part of me liked our brief, kinda-sorta domestic scene. I liked waking up with him, liked chatting with him as we both got dressed, liked that he’d made me coffee while I rushed out the door.
Part of me wished he’d still be there when I got back.
As I pulled onto the winding, Quaking Aspen tree-bordered road that led to Bluff Park, I had a small chuckle to myself at the mental image of Sawyer playing house husband at my tiny place, his Porsche still parked out front.
The smile vanished from my face as soon as I spotted the flashing lights of police cars in the distance. I was there to help investigate a possible murder, and I needed to get my game face on.
Bluff Park was on the far end of town, the landscape packed with Bristlecone Pines, Douglas Firs, and Quaking Aspens – all the towering, lush sorts of forest that let you know without a shadow of a doubt that you were in Colorado. It was a beautiful little stretch of land, the park named for the bluff in the center that looked out over the town. The park was beautiful, and near enough to Whitepeak to make it a popular place for joggers and folks taking their dogs out for walks. I went there myself every now and then when I needed to clear my head.
By the time I parked, the sun was up high enough in the eastern sky to shoot beams of golden sunlight through the trees, motes of dust dancing in the illumination. I parked near a cluster of three police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck. When I stepped out, leaves crunching underneath my feet and the air thick with the fresh smell of morning dew, I had a damn good feeling there’d be no need for the immediate care of an ambulance.
It didn’t take long to spot the scene. A half dozen police officers, most of whom I knew on a first name basis, were creating a perimeter around the area. Two detectives, a man and a woman, stood near the curving shape of Whittman Creek, the trickling water shimmering in the morning sun. The fire truck and ambulance crews stood near their respective vehicles, all waiting for their next orders. I said my “hellos” to the police on the scene as I stepped over the leaves, grass, and branches on my way to the creek.
The detectives laid eyes on me as I approached. One of them I knew as Detective James Cole ‒ a middle-aged, heavyset man with a head of white, close-cropped hair, his typical look of skepticism on his fleshy face. The other detective, an attractive black woman around my age, was a new face. She smiled as I approached, her eager expression one of someone introducing themselves at a cocktail party to someone they had yet to meet.
“Morning, Jimmy,” I said to James as I joined the pair.
“Morning, Jo.” James and I had known each other for years, and we had a little arrangement between the two of us – I was one of the only people allowed to call him “Jimmy”, and he was one of the only people allowed to call me “Jo.” He was dressed in his usual long, gray trench coat, button-up shirt, and black slacks, a pair of hiking sneakers on his feet that made sense for the park but completely clashed with the rest of his outfit. Jimmy wasn’t the kind of guy to care about something like that, which I loved about him.
He swept his hand toward the other detective. “Jo, this is Detective Tiana Hart. She’s a transfer in from…God, what was it?”
“Cedar Rapids,” she said, extending her hand toward me.
“She’s Reba’s replacement,” Jimmy said.
“Wow, only took them, what, nearly a year to find someone?”
“Good detectives are hard to find,” Jimmy replied. “Especially ones as good as Tiana.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her voice was eager and warm, and I liked her instantly. Tiana’s dark hair was worn in a natural shape that was stylish and professional. She had on a sharp pantsuit, a pair of black leather dress sneakers and a houndstooth coat on over her trim frame. Her face was pretty, her dark eyes lively with warmth and intelligence. “Looking forward to getting my bearings here in Whitepeak.”
“Glad to hear it,” I said, taking her hand and giving it a shake. “Welcome to the team.”
Jimmy stuck out his big thumb in Tiana’s direction. “I already told her who you are; that you’re one of the best damn forensic coroners in the country.”
“Oh, get out of here, Jimmy,” I said, secretly loving the compliment.
“You know it’s true. Anyway, I’ll stop blowing smoke up your ass and show you what we’ve got. Actually, I’ll let Tiana do the honors.”
“Gladly,” she said, an eagerness to her voice that suggested she was more than ready to show what she could do. “He’s right this way.”
Tiana led us down the length of the creek. As she did, I watched as the cops on duty cordoned off the area with crime scene tape. The fact that they were only just then putting it up let me know that Jimmy had called me as soon as possible.
“Victim’s a male,” Tiana began. “Looks like early forties. Someone from town got up bright and early this morning to take his dog for a walk. He was letting the dog run around without a leash; didn’t take long for Fido to come across something of note.”
“The victim a familiar face?” I asked as we continued down the creek. “Whitepeak’s not a very big town.”
“Nope,” Jimmy said. “No clue who this guy is. I’ve lived in this town for over fifty years – not one person lives here that I wouldn’t recognize.”
“And here we are,” Tiana indicated.
We made our way around the thick trunk of a particularly tall Douglas Fir that bordered the creek. As soon as we did, the body was right there waiting for us.
The scene was a grisly one. The man was face up; his head sunk into the muddy water of the creek’s bank. His white T-shirt was covered in blood, four holes in his upper body. The man was slender, his hair dark and chin length, his face handsome, even. Sure enough, he didn’t look familiar. He was dressed in the white T-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of shoes that caught my attention.
“We’re thinking a drifter,” James said.
“It’d have to be a rich drifter,” I replied, squatting down, and checking out his shoes. “Look at these – derby brogues with leather soles.” I craned my neck to check the brand. “I know this company. These shoes probably cost around five hundred.”
“Damn, Jolene,” James said. “Maybe I’ll retire too, then you and Tiana c be the new dynamic duo.”
I chuckled, giving him a shove.
“This is less detective prowess and more me happening to know a thing or two about shoes. Anyway, what’re we thinking for the murder weapon?” I asked.
“That’s where you come in,” Tiana replied. “Normal routine in a situation like this would be to look for bullet casings. But there aren’t any.”
“There aren’t any?” I asked.
“Not a one. Buddy here took four shots then fell backward. That means the shooter would’ve been in this direction.” She pointed backward, replicating the likely angle of the shot. “There’s no mud on his front, which means the shooter didn’t flip him over. So ideally, casings should’ve been in this direction.”
I squatted down again and looked at his shirt. “I’m no forensic detective, but at first blush these wounds look like they were from shots at close range. Casings should’ve been nearby. If they’re not…”
“It means the murderer took the time to pick them up,” Tiana finished.
“And more than that,” said Jimmy, “there aren’t any valuables on him. Could be a robbery gone wrong.”
“You could be right,” I said. “But this is getting a little out of my area of expertise.”
“Right, right,” Jimmy said. “Just thinking out loud.”
As he spoke, I spotted something small and crumpled up under the waistband of the man’s pants.
“You see this?” I asked.
Jimmy groaned as he squatted down next to me. I pointed at what seemed to be a piece of wadded up paper. Without a word, he put on his gloves and picked up the paper, uncrumpling it and taking a look.
“Something from a gas station. Could be useful.”
Tiana already had an evidence bag ready, and Jimmy dropped in the paper. Then he and I both rose to standing positions.
“Good eye,” he said. “Anyway, anything else you need before we cart this body off to your neck of the woods?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Send him over and I’ll see what I can find out.”
With that, there was nothing else to do but get back to the office and wait for the body to show up. I said my goodbyes to Jimmy and Tiana before taking a few minutes to supervise the hospital crew as they loaded up the body. A dedicated coroner’s van would’ve been ideal, but such a luxury wasn’t in the budget for a small town like Whitepeak. If I were to land a job with the state’s office, however…
When I was ready, I climbed into my Jeep and started back to the office. I spent the drive going back and forth between thoughts of my night with Sawyer, and the murder that’d just fallen onto my lap. It was a strange mental combo, for sure.
I had a little time before the team would have the body ready at the office, so I stopped at Claptrap Coffee to grab a latte and breakfast sandwich on the way. Part of me secretly hoped that Sawyer would’ve had the same idea, that he might’ve decided to grab a coffee and do a little work on his laptop before heading back into Denver. However, while the place was packed with its standard morning rush, there was no sign of Sawyer – to my disappointment.
I finished my sandwich on the way, and my sixth sense for timing proved that when I pulled up to the office the ambulance had just arrived, the team opening the back of the car. They had keys to the office, but I helped them in anyway.
When I was satisfied with how the crew was getting on, I went around the office to the front to see that Megan had already arrived and opened the place up. When I stepped into the reception area, I saw such a big grin on her face that part of me wondered if she’d popped one too many Adderall to get started that morning.
“Morning,” I said, a tone of slight confusion to my voice.
“Morning,” she said with a smile.
“What’s…what’s up with the smile? You’re looking pretty chipper considering they’re unloading a murder victim downstairs.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised – working at a place like mine for long enough gets even the receptionists inured to dead bodies of all types.
“Go look in your office.”
That was all she said. I scrunched my face at her before heading down the hall, giving a wave to Dave in the breakroom making his coffee as I passed. When I poked my head into my office, I saw right away what Megan was all giddy about.
On the desk was a massive bouquet of spring flowers, hyacinths and daffodils and lilies of the valley. The arrangement was gorgeous, the scent of fresh-cut flowers filling my cramped little office. I stepped over and smelled them, closing my eyes and savoring the scent. As I did, I noticed a small card tucked among the flowers.
Thought they might cheer up the body shop. Looking forward to seeing you again. -S
I smiled and shook my head. Of course, Sawyer would be thoughtful enough to send flowers after last night. I took a quick shot of the flowers with my phone and sent it to Sawyer.
You didn’t have to do this.
The response came after I took a sip of my coffee.
Of course, I didn’t. But I did, so you’ve got no choice but to enjoy them.
I smiled – smiling was becoming a common reaction to Sawyer’s antics.
Well, they’re appreciated. Thanks.
My pleasure. How’s the thing that pulled us out of bed?
Murder victim, but not much else to know. Weird situation. They’ve got the body here now, so I’m about to get to work on him.
Well, good luck. But…I’m thinking that if you’re going to be spending all day working on a corpse, you ought to spend some time among the living later. Dinner tonight?
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to make a quick decision. My heart said yes that I really, really wanted to see him again that night. My brain said to chill out, to not rush things so quickly.
I smirked, deciding to tell my brain to zip it for once.
Sure. What time are you thinking and where?
Need to see how the day shakes out, but I’ll be in touch when I know for sure. And leave the where to me.
Works for me.
We ended the conversation. Setting my phone down, I leaned back against the desk with a big smile on my face and tried to wrap my head around this strange little Sawyer situation that I’d found myself in.
