Caching Out Read online

  Martin nodded. “Who found the body, Tate? God, I hope it wasn’t her Mama or her Daddy.”

  “No one found the body, and that’s the strangest piece in this whole grizzly puzzle. Julie Barton over at central dispatch got an anonymous 911 call from Parker’s home phone. A male caller said he wanted to report a murder. The bastard actually laughed, then hung up before Julie could ask any questions.”

  Martin met Tate’s eyes, stunned. “You’ve got to be shittin’me. The perp called in his own crime?”

  Tate nodded. “Sounds crazy I know, but that’s what happened. When the assistant ME showed up he put the time of death at approximately 7:30 pm. Hell, the body was still warm. Julie logged the call at 8:07 and immediately dispatched a patrol car to the house. When they got there, the door was standing open. The bastard must have called it in right after he killed her.”

  Whistling through his teeth, Martin shook his head, “Now, that’s a ballsy move. In all my years of service, I have never heard of the perp calling in his own crime.”

  “Why call it in at all? And even if the perp wanted to, why so fast? Why not buy himself some time by letting someone find the body after he was gone?”

  Martin leaned back in his chair and pulled his glasses off tucking them into his shirt pocket. “You ever get any calls out to her house before?”

  “None,” Tate shook his head. “No history of calls to the house, no husband at present or ex-husband, no known boyfriend and no clear ties to the Res. All I know for sure is that Saralyn Parker was a 24-year-old schoolteacher that some sick bastard raped, mutilated and killed.”

  Martin pushed his official sheriff’s tan hat back on his head and stood to leave. “Any idea where you’re going next with this investigation? Once this gets out, you’re going to have your hands full with the locals. There hasn’t been a murder in Pine Ridge for so long that once they move past the shock of it, they’ll be out for blood. Yours if you don’t come up with a suspect pretty quick.”

  Standing to shake Martin’s hand, Tate said, “I know the locals expect a fast arrest, but we can’t afford to be sloppy and lose a conviction on a technicality. I’m waiting on the report along with the tox screen, and hopefully it will give me some DNA evidence to work with. I’ve already had a call from the mayor reminding me that it’s an election year, and letting me know how important it is to both of us to get this get resolved.”

  “You mean he threatened your job?”

  Tate offered a grim chuckle. “Well, not directly, but he did skip around it. Made sure he reminded me that he had to work his tail off to get me in over Chad Green.”

  Martin croaked, “‘Green’ being the operative word. Chad’s just a kid, straight out of the academy. Just because his daddy’s been on the County force forever doesn’t mean that kid could run the department. You plan on having a press conference or something to let the locals know what’s going on?”

  “Not yet. Until we have some solid evidence, it’s too early to be talking to the press or the locals. Right now, I plan to do some follow up with Reva Corley since she was the last person to see Parker alive. She said that they were hiking out at White’s Lake earlier in the day. I talked to her last night and I can’t be sure, but my gut tells me that she was holding something back. If that’s true, I’ve got to find out whatever it is she’s not telling me.”

  “Let me know when you get the ME’s report back and if there’s something I can do to help, just say the word.”

  “Thanks Martin, I will.” Alone again, Tate dropped the Parker file into a desk drawer. He grabbed his cap and slipped out of the courthouse just behind Martin, avoiding as many curious people as possible.

  CHAPTER 3

  Tate slid into the hunter green SUV and pushed his sunglasses on, backed out of his reserved parking spot at the courthouse and turned left on Main Street. With one hand he dialed the number for the Tribal Police on his cell only to learn that things were pretty quiet at the Reservation right now, if you didn’t count the steady stream of drugs that continued to make their way onto tribal property. After a quick trip by the morgue where he was assured that the Parker case was getting priority, he made his way to the Ridge Diner hoping Reva Corley was working the day shift.

  When he pushed open the glass door of the diner, a clanging cow bell overhead reminded Tate of just how little things in Pine Ridge had changed in the last couple of decades. The diner had been where all the kids hung out after school, including him. In front of the bar, the same round swivel stools sat atop dingy round chrome poles bolted to the floor and even though they were older now, some of the same people still sat there, feet propped on an equally dingy chrome rail running the length of the bar. Nodding to those who turned to look his way, Tate moved to the back of the diner and slid into a faded red Naugahyde booth that matched the stools at the bar.

  A petite women with limp blond hair stepped up to take his order. Her white shirt was rolled up to the elbows and covered with a dark brown apron sporting several grease spots. Smiling, she pulled a numbered pad from her pocket with one hand and a pen from behind her ear with the other.

  “What’ll it be today Tate, uh, I mean Chief?” Kathy was the same age as Tate and they’d been in some classes together in high school. Looking up at her, Tate could see that life had been hard on the once beautiful girl.

  Smiling as if he hadn’t noticed the change at all, Tate ordered a club sandwich and a cup of coffee. Before Kathy could walk away, he asked, “Reva working today Kathy?”

  Kathy shook her head. “She was just so upset over what happened to Saralyn. Burt gave her a couple days off. Told her to pull herself together and then come on back to work.” As Kathy walked away, Tate leaned back into the worn booth, propping his feet up on the opposite seat. For the first time since he’d gotten called out to the Parker house, he relaxed.

  The bell over the diner door clanked, and Tate watched as a tall man with long, graying hair pulled back in a tight ponytail entered the diner. Locking eyes with the man as he slid into the opposite side of the booth, Tate smiled.

  “Hello, Son. I hear you’re up to your nose in trouble these days.”

  Tate reached over and clasped his father’s outstretched hand. “Yeah Dad, I am. But you must be in some serious trouble too, if you’re eating at the diner when we both know that you’re married to the best cook in the state.”

  “Nothing like that, Son. Your Mama just thought it was time I come to town to see about you. Claims she’s not cooking a thing until I make sure our boy’s alright.” A frown creased the older man’s forehead. “You are alright aren’t you, Son?”

  “I’m okay, but this case has got me thinking about things I haven’t thought about since I left the bureau and moved back home—things like this just don’t happen in Pine Ridge.” Tate leaned forward and lowered his voice, “No leads and no obvious reason for the killing. Nothing seems to fit, at least not yet. This woman didn’t seem to have an enemy in the world, yet someone went into her house and raped and killed her.”

  Jimmy Echo smiled at Kathy as she sat Tate’s order down on the table, “Think about it some and it’ll come to you. Might help if you let your hair grow a little longer!”

  “I don’t think the Mayor would understand it if I told him to put this case on the back burner while my hair grows long so that my spirit will be strong enough to catch a killer.”

  “You’re probably right about that, but then people not understanding the Native ways has always been a problem for us. When your Unci, your grandmother, left the Reservation to marry your grandfather, folks in Pine Ridge thought he was crazy for getting tied up with an ‘Indian’ girl and people on the Res shunned my mother for leaving them for a white man. But that didn’t stop them from building a good life together for over fifty years.”

  The two sat in silence as Tate ate his lunch.

  Finally Jimmy said, “Tate, I know you’re busy, but at least call your mama. She’s worried sick about you. Says she
’s got a real bad feeling about all this and you know how she is when she gets a feeling about something.” Rising to leave, Jimmy clasped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “And Son, don’t you worry none about this case, long hair or short, you’ll figure it out.”

  Tate watched as his dad left the diner, stopping first to speak to several of the regulars perched on the round swivel seats at the bar.

  Taking the last bite of his sandwich, Tate thought of the last time he’d seen his dad with short hair. It had been when his grandmother died. He was twelve and had followed his dad down to the creek behind their house. Silently he watched as his dad pulled his braid to the side and used a hunting knife to cut it off and then knelt placing it in the water. He stood and watched it float away. It had been a few years later before Tate understood that his dad was honoring his Unci by grieving in the Native way, cutting his hair and returning it to the earth.

  Tate dropped a generous tip on the table and rose to leave. Deciding to give Reva a day’s reprieve before answering questions, he drove to Saralyn Parker’s house, hoping to find something that had been overlooked the night before. An hour later, he admitted to himself that it had been a long shot and a dry run. Tate locked the small house, stepped over the yellow crime scene tape and made his way back to his SUV.

  On the drive home he made a mental note to call his mom. Tate’s parents were first rate, family was everything to them. His dad owned the only garage in town and was the best mechanic in the county. Karlee wasn’t his real mother, but she was the only mother he’d ever remembered or needed. She’d always loved him and made sure that he knew it.

  On the short ride to his house, Tate let his thoughts drift to his parents and to his real mother. Jimmy Echo had married a young local girl shortly after high school; rumor was that she had been pregnant and ‘that Echo boy had done right by her.’ Six months after Tate was born, she left. His dad claimed he came home from work one day and knew something was wrong when he pulled his wrecker into the drive. Said he heard Tate crying from the moment he opened the truck door. He’d gone inside and found Tate in his crib, soaked and hungry. There was no sign of his young wife other than a note saying that she ‘couldn’t take no crying baby no more.’ As far as Tate knew, she never came back. Never called to check on him, never cared.

  “Not one damn birthday card,” he muttered. His dad always laughs when he tells the story, though Tate suspected that it wasn’t very funny at the time. Jimmy had picked up a crying Tate that night; changed his first diaper and never looked back. Seven months later, he married Karlee. They’d tried to have children but after a couple miscarriages, Karlee gave up, saying that she had a beautiful son and that was what was most important to her.

  That’s the kind of marriage Tate had wanted when he’d married FBI agent Emma Gage. Em was beautiful, smart, sexy as hell and he’d loved her on sight . . . who was he kidding? He still loved her. The marriage had lasted three years before things unraveled. Tate wanted kids and a job that got him home every night, but Emma had a career path that didn’t include taking time off for pregnancy or raising a family. Eventually they’d realized that while their dreams could come true, they wouldn’t be together.

  Pulling into his drive, Tate shook off thoughts of the past, checked his mail and made his way into the small two bedroom house that he’d bought when he returned to Pine Ridge. He rummaged in the frig for a beer and flipped on the TV. Tate wasn’t surprised to see a local news station talking about the Parker case. This time the talking head was on remote and stood in front of Parker’s mailbox, the yellow crime tape surrounded the small house in the background. A photo of Saralyn sat in the corner of the screen smiling as she posed with her elementary class. Reaching for the remote, Tate quickly changed the channel.

  CHAPTER 4

  The following morning, Daniel Westhaven, the Assistant Medical Examiner of Shannon County, dropped the ME’s official report on Tate’s desk. “Not much more here than we already knew, Tate. Royce did find seminal fluid on the exam, but the sample proved to be pre-ejaculate in nature. No sperm released.”

  Holding his hand up, Tate interrupted Daniel. “So you’re saying he didn’t find release during the rape?”

  Daniel nodded, “Exactly. He didn’t finish what he started. Either he couldn’t, or maybe he got interrupted. Royce sent the results to the State DNA Databank for processing and entry into CODIS just this morning.”

  “With any luck, we’ll get a match. Don’t suppose you know what the backlog is over there? I know it usually takes ten days for entry into the system, but we need answers now.”

  “No idea on the backlog, but Royce did tag it as priority which should bump it to the front of the line for you. Another interesting finding showed up in the toxicology report which really surprised the hell out of me. Seems that Ms. Parker might have a thing for drugs.”

  Reaching for the report Tate slipped it from the letter sized manila envelope as Daniel continued. “We found a trace amount of marijuana along with Ketamine.”

  Tate glanced up, “Ketamine? That drug was recently linked to a case of date rape and made national news.”

  Daniel nodded, “Yeah, it’s usually used by vets and hospitals for anesthesia, but there’s a big street market for it as well. Kids call it ‘Special K’.”

  Tate closed the report and gave Daniel his full attention. “So save me some research and tell me everything you know about Ketamine.”

  “Well Ketamine Hydrochloride, or ‘Special K’, can be injected, snorted or swallowed.” Daniel took a seat across from Tate. “It can take from less than a minute or up to five minutes to take full effect, depending on how it was taken and the amount. We did find a small puncture wound on Parker and think that she most likely injected the drug. It stays in the blood for a few hours depending on the dose size, but the effects on casual users generally wear off in an hour or so. With the concentration ratio that she tested, Royce thinks that she must have taken it right before she was murdered. Sounds like she was having a little K party that went wrong.”

  Royce Wiggins was in his mid-sixties and had served Shannon County as Senior Medical Examiner for more than three decades. Daniel Westhaven had signed on as the assistant ME about four years ago when age and arthritis forced Royce to slow down and lighten his workload.

  Daniel was in his late thirties and he took responsibility for most of the field work, leaving Royce to handle the in-house examinations and much of the paperwork that came with being the County Coroner. It was a given that Daniel would step into Royce’s shoes once the old man retired.

  Pushing back from his desk Tate thought aloud, “Maybe she didn’t give herself the injection. Maybe the killer gave it to her just before she was murdered. From what I recall in the news report, they said that Ketamine creates a trance like state that significantly impairs motor function.”

  “That’s true. Users call it the ‘K-hole’ when they get a floating out of body experience. Says it makes them feel paralyzed.”

  “Daniel, I’m still going to follow up on possible drug abuse by Parker, but I think it’s more likely that the killer used Ketamine to subdue her. Would you agree that if the killer used it that it’s possible she was awake but unable to move when he raped and killed her?”

  “Hell of a way to go,” Daniel said. “If your assumptions are right, then she probably watched while he cut on her. Royce did confirm that the smaller cuts, eye, ear and those on her arm were not what killed her and that they were made while she was still alive.”

  “He would have had to subdue her in order to make cuts that exact. I already expected you would find something in her tox screen, I just wasn’t sure what it would be.” Tate frowned, “So what happens if he gives his victim too much?”

  Daniel shrugged, “Well, most likely it would have stopped her breathing, since a true overdose would paralyze the organs including the lungs, but since Royce confirmed that she was alive when the cuts were made, we know that didn’t happen.
Ketamine increases blood pressure and heart rate, so it might impact an unhealthy or elderly person differently than it would a young and otherwise healthy user.”

  “So he’s educated on administering Ketamine, giving her enough to immobilize her but not kill her and he’s skilled with a knife. Now the marijuana use puts a bit of a spin on things.” Tate’s voice did nothing to hide his frustration. “You say it was just a trace amount?”

  “Yeah, she could have smoked any time in the last thirty days and we’d have pulled a trace reading on the report.”

  Tate sighed, “Well, this just gets worse by the minute. Unless she was taking something legal that created a false positive on the marijuana, then it’s possible that she was both a pot smoker and abused the Ketamine. Or maybe the killer injected her then forced her to smoke the weed. Ask Royce to do a hair follicle at a ninety day and full year interval. That should tell us if she is a regular smoker or not.”

  Tate slid the report pages into the case file and flipped the folder closed. “Thanks for bringing the report over, Daniel. I appreciate that you guys down at the ME’s office understand just how sensitive this is. We haven’t had a murder in Pine Ridge in so long that folks are shocked and running scared.”

  “It just doesn’t seem right that an elementary school teacher would be on drugs.” Daniel said. “Hell, I’ve got little ones that will be starting school next year. I hate to think that we might be sending our kids off to spend the day with a user.”

  “The world is a scary place. I know that the school system does random drug test on all the staff, so if she were a regular user then she probably would have lost her job before now. Hell, maybe she is a casual smoker. Guess I’ll go back to her house and check to see what she’s got there, even though we’ve had two empty searches already. I can’t rule out drugs being part of the motive now and if they are, it points a strong finger toward the Reservation since that’s where we have the biggest population of users in the state.”