Atonement (3 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Logan
set off on foot from the motel at just before sunup, crossed the highway and walked south and then east through woods to reach the spot on the back road that he had parked at two days ago.

The sheriff thought it was a wrap; that even without a confession he had enough circumstantial evidence to charge Ray.  But he was waiting for the official report from the ME to land on his desk, and the analysis paperwork on the white powder that they already knew was high-grade cocaine.

Logan was standing up to the plate for Clifton and his boy.  That entailed a different mindset to the simplistic conclusion the sheriff had come to.  What bothered him in the main was that Ray hadn’t panicked.  He had gone home and slept off the effects of the night before, and had appeared totally bewildered and upset when he found out that Tanya was missing.  Logan did not think he was putting on an act.  And as an ex-homicide detective he’d attended all types of murders, including those of vics that had been strangled.  Tanya would have fought for her life.  If the deed had been carried out by Ray in his car after an argument, then he should have been marked.  She would have lashed out, scratched his hands, face, or both.  And they should have found traces under her fingernails.  As far as he knew from Kate Donner, they had nothing.

Only a couple of vehicles drove by heading in the direction of town as he walked along the side of the road.  He crossed over and cut through trees onto what was presumably still land that made up part of the Carver property.  That was a place to start, just on the off chance that some hobo had been living rough in the gutted house.  He didn’t think that scenario was even a long shot, but would be thorough and put himself in the position of being lead cop investigating the case.

There was no evidence of any recent occupation inside the roofless shell.  Outside the front of it was a clearing of still scorched earth and a few stunted bushes.

Heading back towards the highway, Logan did not spend any time at the spot where Ray had parked up on the track.  As far as he was concerned it had not been the crime scene.  He reached the blacktop, turned right and walked slowly, eyes down and searching for anything that did not belong.  After maybe ninety or a hundred yards a very small item glinted in the grass.  The light covering of snow that had lain for thirty-six hours had melted to display a few beer and soda cans, and the usual trash that was thrown from moving vehicles.  But this was an unexpected find.  He was wearing woolen gloves, so picked the object up and slipped it into the side pocket of his parka.

As he crossed the road, intending to return to the motel through the woods, the single whoop of a police siren broke the silence.  He stopped and waited for the cruiser to roll up next to him and park.

“Are you lost, Logan, or just some kind of ghoul attracted to murder scenes?”  Deputy Sheriff Carl Purvis said as he climbed out of the car.

“Just sampling this fresh mountain air,”  Logan said, moving round to stand about ten feet directly in front of the black and white.

“Yeah, and I’m the Tooth Fairy,”  Carl came back.  “Just what the fuck are you doing out here?”

“Minding my own business, deputy.”

And exactly what business would that be?”

“Not yours.”

“I don’t like your attitude,”  Carl said.  “I’m the law, and am asking you a reasonable question.”

“I just gave you a reasonable answer.  I’m going to head off back through the woods now to the motel, unless you think we have anything further to discuss.”

Carl’s right hand slipped to the butt of the holstered Glock at his hip.  It was an unconscious move, but demonstrated to Logan that the cop was nervous and unsure as to what to do next.

“As I recall, Earl and me advised you to leave town,”  Carl said.  “Seems you don’t listen up to good advice.”

“I listened, and decided that it was bad advice from two dumb as dirt, third rate cops.”

Carl took a step towards Logan, balling his fists.  Bright red spots formed on his cheeks as he considered the situation.

Logan said nothing.  Just stood and waited.  Hoped that the deputy didn’t make a move on him, because breaking the guy’s nose would ensure that he would be bust and sleeping that night in a cell.

Carl looked both ways.  There was no other vehicle in sight, so he went for broke and took a swing at Logan, who caught the fist in his hand and just stood rock still, his arm muscles bunching as he held it in a viselike grip.  “You need to think real quick, son,”  he said to Carl.  “Do you really want to find out where this will lead, because I don’t give a fuck about your badge or your gun?  You’re just a thug in uniform offering me unnecessary aggression, and if you push me hard enough I’ll break you in two.”

Carl had left the video in the cruiser running.  Knew that he’d inadvertently just taped himself attempting to assault a guy that had been standing with his arms hung loosely at his sides.  He couldn’t wipe it without having to do a lot of lying.  The system was time-coded and checked regularly.  He was so used to it being there that he’d forgotten that he had turned it on as per the book, before exiting the vehicle.

He attempted to pull his hand free, but it was fixed as securely as a clamp on a car wheel.

Logan got tired of waiting, so put downward pressure on the fist, and forced Carl to his knees.  He then quickly relieved the deputy of his handcuffs and sidearm.  He was mildly surprised to find that his reactions were still so sharp. 
Not bad for a guy of fifty
.

He frisked Carl, found his cell and phoned Clifton. Got Kate Donner’s number from him and punched it up.

“Kate Donner.”

‘It’s Logan,”  he said.  “I’m out near the Foster crime scene.  Deputy Purvis just attempted to assault me.  I’ve restrained him and am about to call the sheriff, but expect I could use a little moral and legal support out here.”

Ten seconds of silence followed as Kate let the details sink in.  “I’m on my way, Logan.  Don’t exacerbate the situation.”

“I don’t plan to,”  Logan said and disconnected.

He then used the deputy’s radio to call the incident in to the dispatcher at the sheriff’s department.  Said he had an emergency, gave his location and suggested that Sheriff Bumgarner should attend a.s.a.p.

With Carl cuffed to the window frame of the cruiser, and the Glock separated from its mag and dumped on the rear seat, Logan turned his attention to the surly deputy, who was cursing and making threats.

“You’re in the wrong line of work,”  Logan said to him.  “You should resign and wash dishes at the Steamboat Diner, or find some other menial job that will suit your limited capabilities.”

“You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your fucking life, Logan.”  Carl said.

Logan ignored him.  Went over to a large pine tree and just rested his back up against the trunk and waited.

The sheriff’s Dodge Charger arrived first, and as it reached the scene, Logan saw a dark blue Kia round a bend and accelerate towards them.  He hoped that it was the lawyer.

As the sheriff and a deputy climbed out of the car, Logan ambled towards them with his hands in plain sight.

“Morning, Sheriff,”  Logan said.  “They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, so I suggest you take a look at the home movie in the cruiser, on which your inept deputy just recorded what went down here.”

Lyle looked Logan in the eye and took in his overall demeanor.  The big man seemed to be under no stress, and his manner was affable.  “Check that Mr. Logan is unarmed,”  he said to Deputy Denny Matthews as he turned his attention to Carl.

He could see embarrassment, guilt and anger in his deputy’s expression.  Without saying a word, he climbed in the cruiser and rewound the video to see what the camera had recorded through the windshield.  He backed it up when the image of Carl and Logan appeared, and then a little further to when the events had obviously commenced.  It didn’t take him long to see that it had been Carl that had attempted to assault Logan, without any visible cause to.

Kate stepped out of her Kia and approached the cruiser.  “Hi, Sheriff,”  she said as Lyle got out of the cruiser and just shook his head at Carl.

“What the hell are you doing here, Kate?”  Lyle said.

“Logan gave me a call.  Thought he may need my services.”

Denny had stepped back a couple yards from Logan and had no idea what to do next, so just waited for instructions.  Shook his head when Lyle glanced across to him, implying that Logan was unarmed.

“Talk to me,”  Lyle said to Logan.

“I was walking along the verge,”  Logan said.  “Deputy Dawg here stopped and braced me.  He and another halfwit of yours have already told me to leave town.  Today it went a stage further.  He took a swing at me, as you’ll have seen on the tape.  I restrained, disarmed and cuffed him, using minimum force to protect myself.  His weapon is on the rear seat. I suggest you arrange for him to have a psychological assessment, because I really don’t think he should be in possession of a firearm.”

Carl pulled hard against the steel cuff, taking skin off his wrist as he attempted to free himself.  He shouted, “You’re asking for a―”

“Shut the fuck up, Carl,”  Lyle said.

“But―”

“No buts.  Just cool it.”

Carl gritted his teeth.  He was like an attack dog on a short leash.

“Is Mr. Logan being charged with anything?”  Kate said to Lyle.  “Or does whatever you’ve seen on that tape prove that he has not committed any offense?”

Lyle thought about it.  “I suggest that this was just a misunderstanding, and that Logan here sees it that way.  I think that we can let it go at that.”

Kate took her cell out of her purse and clicked off a few pictures.  “May I see the tape, Sheriff,”  she said.

Lyle shook his head.  “You may not, Ms. Donner.  It isn’t relevant, unless Logan has the intention of bringing charges against my deputy.”

“What’s it to be?”  Kate said to Logan.

“I’m good to go,”  he replied.

“I need to have a talk with you, Logan,”  Lyle said.  “I’d appreciate you dropping by my office within the hour.”

“You got it,”  Logan said.

“Get in the car, Mr. Logan,”  Kate said.  “I’ll run you into town.”

Logan walked across to the Kia and climbed in.  He had to adjust the passenger seat back on its rail as far as it would go.  The car was too small for him.

“What the hell was that all about?”  Kate said as she headed back to the Creek.

“About the murder of Tanya Foster,”  Logan said.  “They think that they’ve got a slam-dunk with Ray Marshall, so they aren’t considering the alternative.”

“Which is?”

“That he’s innocent.  Someone else killed the girl, and I think it was a local.”

“Because?”

“Because the obvious can sometimes be a country mile away from what really went down.”

Kate parked outside the general store.  “You want a coffee?”  she said to Logan.

“Always,”  he said.  “I’m buying.  Let’s use the Steamboat.”

They were on their second cup when Logan used a paper napkin to pull the article he had found on the roadside from his pocket and place it on the tabletop.  “I think you should take a photo of this,”  he said to Kate.

“What is it,”  she said after reaching into her purse for her cell phone and taking a picture of the small gold-colored object.

“Something or nothing,”  Logan said.  “It could be important evidence that would help Ray out of the hole he’s in.”

Exactly an hour after leaving the sheriff to release his deputy and no doubt read him the riot act, Logan walked into the sheriff’s department and told the civilian dispatcher in the front office who he was, and that he was expected.  The woman picked up a phone and said, “I have a Mr. Logan to see you, Sheriff.”

Lyle came through thirty seconds later.  “This way,”  he said to Logan, and headed back to his office.

Logan followed him in to the small office and took a seat when Lyle inclined his head to one of two wooden chairs.

“We need to talk this problem through,”  Lyle said, pouring them both mugs of coffee before sitting down at the other side of the desk to Logan.

“What problem would that be?”  Logan said.

“Don’t play games, Logan.  You’re pushing your nose into police business.  That is not acceptable.”

“It is to Clifton Marshall and his son.  And they’re the parties here that are in trouble.  You’ve all but put this case to bed with piss poor evidence.”

“And just what makes you qualified to pry into what is still an ongoing investigation?”

“You know the answer to that, Sheriff.  I’ve been staying at the Pinetop for the best part of two weeks.  As a stranger in your small town, you will have run a background check on me.”

“You reckon?”

“If you’re as good at your job as people tend to think you are, yes.”

“Okay, cards on the table, Mr. Joe Logan.  You’re ex-Marine with a purple heart and a few other gongs.  After leaving the Corps you were one of ‘New York’s finest’, as they would have us believe.  After putting in your twenty you walked.  And seem to have been walking ever since.  So what’s
your
problem, can’t you let go?”

“I didn’t look to get involved in this, Sheriff.  Clifton asked me to look out for Ray’s interests.  I decided to help if I could.”

“And you don’t think that we can handle it?”

“Doesn’t look as though you want to,”  Logan said.  “You’ve made up your mind, and that’s not a professional way to work a case.”

“We go with the evidence, Logan.  Isn’t that what you used to do in the big city?”

“Yeah.  But you haven’t got any.  The vic was found close to where your suspect had been parked up.  He admits to having been stoned and having a fallout with the girl, and even slapping her across the face, but that doesn’t make him the killer.”

“So you believe that she walked off, and that some random motorist stopped and strangled her, then happened to find out where the Marshall boy was parked and dumped the body nearby to implicate him?  She wasn’t robbed or sexually abused, Logan.  It doesn’t work for me.”