Maniacal: A Detective Jade Monroe Crime Thriller Book 1 (2 page)

“Monroe, Steele, saddle up. We have a floater on Cedar Lake. Two men casting close to shore found him when their line got tangled in the weeds. The crew is already onsite. Call them for the exact location. Take your breakfast with you, Monroe, and keep me updated.”

“Right away, Lieutenant.” I pushed back my roller chair, threw my breakfast back in the bag, and stood. “Damn it, you’re driving, Jack. For once, I want to eat my breakfast before noon.”

The sheriff’s department in our small town didn’t offer the luxury of a covered parking lot. The cruisers, unmarked cars, Crown Vics, and our personal cars sat outside. We each grabbed a department-issued rain jacket as we headed toward the door. That morning, a light mist cloaked the cool spring air, making me shiver. We climbed into our unmarked car and headed west.

Jack’s cell phone rang, and Kyle was calling with directions.

“Do you think you can find the exact spot?” I asked after Jack ended his call.

“Yeah. I guess the area is already taped off. We can’t miss it. Kyle said to take County Road P to Scenic and turn south. A half mile up, there’s a gravel road that turns right near the public boat launch. Apparently, the body is partially submerged but tangled in the shoreline weeds.”

“So he floated to shore?”

“Possibly. We’ll know more once we get there. Kyle said to walk in. They don’t want our tire tracks messing up the path getting back there. They’re considering it a crime scene.”

“Really? Did he say why they think that instead of an accidental drowning?”

“Yeah, he said we’d understand once we view the body. Plus, the lieutenant did say a floater, not a drowning victim. Anyway, they all walked in. We should see their cars along the road in just a few minutes.”

“Sounds bad.” I gulped my coffee to wash down the last bite of my hash browns. I pointed through the windshield. “Looks like the vehicles are up ahead. This must be the place.”

The medical examiner’s van, forensics van, and four sheriff’s department white cruisers with green-and-tan stripes down the sides, sat on the shoulder of the road. I checked my watch—just after eight o’clock. I patted my right-side jacket pocket to make sure my notepad and pen were there along with my cell phone and lip balm. Jack parked behind the other cruisers, and we followed the gravel road in on foot. We stayed on either side of the path, walking only on the weeds. We reached the team a quarter mile back at the edge of the lake.

“Boys.” I nodded to the two-man forensic team, Kyle Miller and Dan Brent, as we approached.

The collars of their royal-blue polos peeked out of the black department-issued rain slickers Kyle and Dan wore. The back of their jackets had FORENSICS written from side to side in large yellow block letters.

Kyle had been with the team six years. He was a nice-looking single man, twenty-nine and with a pleasant personality. He wore his dark brown hair in a buzz cut. He’d always said he didn’t like to fuss with it. Dan, on the other hand, had chin-length naturally blond hair and blue eyes. He was a tall, slim young man and, at twenty-seven, had been in the forensics department three years. Kyle had taken Dan under his wing when he joined the department, and they became fast friends.

“So, what do we have?”

“Not what we expected, Jade,” Dan said as he tucked his hair behind his ears.

“Really? Can you expand on that a bit?” I glanced at Jack and saw his eyebrows rise.

“Sure. You do realize that every house along this lake and within a five-mile radius is probably worth over a million bucks, right? I was certain we’d find the typical entitled twenty-one-year-old mama’s boy that lives on the lake and accidently drowned after a night of partying and too much booze.”

“And you found what instead?”

“Come on back and take a look.”

Jack and I followed Dan the fifty feet along the wooded shoreline. We seemed to be on a natural path, likely from deer going to the water’s edge to drink. We arrived to find Doug, our chief ME, and Jason, the associate ME, looking over the body they had pulled from the water. They wore rain slickers too, with MEDICAL EXAMINER written across the back. A white blood-stained tarp lay beneath the body, allowing us to see the horrific injury that had taken the individual’s life.

I knelt down on the edge of the tarp and stared at the young man lying there.

“Wow, that’s pretty gruesome.” I leaned in to get a closer look.

Jack whistled and pressed on his temples. “I don’t think we’ve come across this in the past. This poor guy’s head is almost sliced clean off.”

We stared at the gaping wound that went from ear to ear. The man’s neck hung wide open, as if it were on a hinge. A closer look showed the cut was so deep it had nearly severed his spine. There wasn’t much tissue left holding his head on, and the spine appeared to be the only thing that kept the head and body connected.

“Looks like gang tats too. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.” Jack pointed to the arms and what was left of the man’s neck.

I stood and elbowed him in the ribs but had to agree. “Yeah, I saw the tats too. He’s likely from the city.” I looked toward Doug. “Did you find his ID?”

Doug was a large man, around six feet tall and husky. He wore his blond hair cropped short. At forty-three, he had been our county ME for longer than I could remember. Jason was fairly new. He started working with Doug a year ago. He was a nice guy, newly married and thirty-two. He had short brown hair and wore stylish tortoiseshell glasses. Jason was friendly, ambitious, and easy to like.

Doug turned his head and looked up at me. “Well, that’s going to be a problem, Sergeant. There wasn’t a cell phone or wallet in his pockets. We’ll pull his prints once we get him on the table.”

I thought out loud. “So possibly robbery and murder? The injury seems too extreme for that. What’s in the baggie next to the body?”

“Forensics will check it out, but I pulled it from his front left pocket when I was searching for identification. Not much left of whatever it was. I’m guessing some pills that dissolved in the water.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, his mouth was full of lake scum, and he had a dime in his pocket.”

“That’s it—one dime?”

Doug nodded. “Yep, just a dime.”

Jack glanced around our immediate area. “Who would even know of this lake if they didn’t live near here?”

“Good question, partner. What happened to the guys that called it in?” I asked.

Jason jerked his head to the left. “They’re over by the boat launch with Detective Clayton. The lieutenant sent him out along with a handful of deputies this morning before you two got in. They’re just a couple of retired guys looking to catch some bass this morning but found this guy instead. It’s a real shame.”

“Can we get a rough estimate of TOD?”

Doug swatted a fly away. “Hard to say. Rigor is just setting in. Being submerged in water makes a difference, Sergeant. I’ll know more after I get him on the table. If you want a rough estimate”—Doug pulled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch—“I’d say he’s been dead for six hours, maybe more.”

I buried my cold, wet hands in my pockets. “Okay, let’s keep moving. Has Kyle or Dan checked for footprints or tire tracks yet?”

“Kyle’s working on it. Once he clears the path, Jason can pull the van in, and we’ll get this guy loaded up,” Doug said.

Jack and I backtracked to where Kyle and Dan were taking pictures of the area and looking for tread marks on the path.

Kyle saw us approaching. “You’re good to go, guys. No tire marks or shoeprints in the gravel that we can see. We’ll keep looking for evidence in the brush and weeds too. I’m sure most of us will be out here all morning.”

Something was on my mind that I needed to ask Kyle. “One quick question before we go. Why don’t you think there were footprints leading to the site? It’s been raining, and the ground is soft.”

“There’s a lot of ways to enter this lake. My guess would be the perp walked through the shallow water with the body. He could have entered the lake anywhere and stayed along the shoreline. It depends on when the body was dumped too.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t think it started raining until early this morning. We’ve got Donnelly, Silver, Ebert, and Lawrence searching everything that is cordoned off. They’ll do a thorough job.”

“Okay, thanks. We’re going to talk to the eyewitnesses now.” I pulled the hood of my rain jacket up as we walked to the boat launch. The mist was heavy enough to instantly turn my smooth black hair into frizz. “I’m going to give Clark a heads-up. What we found wasn’t the norm in this neck of the woods.” I dialed the lieutenant as we walked and turned left at the end of the gravel road. The boat launch with a small restaurant lay straight ahead. I noticed the lights were on in the restaurant, and a green neon Open sign hung slightly tilted from the window. “Hey, Lieutenant, I’m just calling to give you the initial update.”

“Go ahead, Jade. What have we got besides what Kyle told me earlier?”

“It certainly isn’t the typical drowning, but somehow I think you knew that. We have an African American male whose head was almost severed. That doesn’t fit the neighborhood, and I doubt if he lived around here.” I wiped my wet forehead. “We saw gang tats on the visible parts of his body too, and there could be more. I think we should keep the actual cause of death off the media’s radar, at least for now. In this quiet, upscale neighborhood, the residents will go into a tizzy if those details get out. There wasn’t a wallet or cell phone on the body either.”

“That creates a problem.”

“The only thing we can hope for is fingerprints, if he’s in the system.”

“Okay, so the witnesses?”

“Jack and I are walking up to them as we speak. I’ll catch up with you later, Lieutenant.” I hung up, put my phone on vibrate, and zipped it into my jacket pocket as we introduced ourselves to the two older men talking to Clayton.

Chad Clayton was another daytime detective that was usually partnered with Adam Billings, but Billings had stayed back to handle things in the bull pen.

Clayton had dark blond hair and a neatly trimmed mustache. He could use a little more time at the gym, but all in all, he was a great guy. He had been with the sheriff’s department for nine years and was a happily married man. His eleven-year-old twins, Megan and Matt, were his pride and joy.

“Clayton.” I nodded in his direction. “Gentlemen.” I extended my hand, and Jack did the same. “We’re investigators with the sheriff’s department. I’m Sergeant Jade Monroe”—I pointed to Jack—“and this is my partner, Detective Jack Steele.”

The men introduced themselves as Bob Shultz and Leo Moroni. They both appeared to be a little shaken. They looked to be in their late sixties and the type of guys who lived the comfortable, retired lifestyle. Abruptly, their idyllic fishing excursion that morning had turned into something not easily forgotten. I gave them each the once-over after the initial introductions. Bob was short and pudgy, with chafed, windburned cheeks and short white hair. His plaid shirt and fishing hat reminded me of the typical Wisconsin retiree. I assumed Leo was Italian because of his last name, Moroni. He had a large nose, dark eyes, and olive skin. The hairline at his temples showed a tint of gray, but most of his hair was still wavy and a beautiful shade of black.

“How about we grab a coffee inside where it’s dry? I’m sure we could all use a cup about now.” I smiled to put them at ease. “We have the usual questions to go over with you. I hope we can wrap this up within a half hour or so and let you get on with your day.”

We entered the warm, cozy restaurant. A long lunch counter was directly ahead of us with ten stools against it. A few were occupied. Five tables were scattered throughout the room, and four booths lined the wall. I motioned toward a booth. Jack and I took one side and faced Bob and Leo on the other. A waitress approached with a welcoming smile, apparently unaware of what had taken place just across the lake from the restaurant. We ordered a carafe of coffee, and I began the questions. Jack pulled out his notepad and pen.

“What time did you gentlemen get out here this morning?” I asked.

Bob looked at Leo and shrugged. “About six thirty. Right, Leo?”

“Yeah. We launched the boat right as the sun cleared the tree line around the lake. It clouded up almost immediately and started misting. I’m thinking we fished for forty-five minutes or so before we discovered the body.”

“And can you explain that to me?” I asked.

“Well, ma’am, I cast close to shore.” Bob rubbed his forehead, took a sip of coffee, then continued, “That’s where the bass usually hit. Lines tend to get tangled in the weeds in the shallow water, you know.”

I nodded.

“We rowed in closer so I could pull my lure out of the weeds. That’s when we saw him. I swear we almost capsized the boat. I’ve never seen a sight like that, not even in Nam.”

“I’m sure you haven’t, Bob. Did either of you touch the body?”

“No, ma’am,” Leo said. He shook his head. “I’ll admit, I upchucked right there in the water.”

I frowned at his distress. “I understand.”

Jack filled each cup with more of the hot brew and continued with his notes.

“Was there anything besides the obvious neck wound that stood out? Can you think of something that our officers wouldn’t have noticed from your point of view, being on the water side of the scene?”

Leo added as he scratched his chin, “I’m sure he was placed there. Bodies don’t float across a lake and put themselves halfway up on dry land. The man was in the water up to his chest, but his shoulders and what was left of his head were on the bank. It appeared like he was dumped there. There’s no vehicle unaccounted for near the boat launch. The guy didn’t drive himself here in that condition and throw himself in the lake.”

I paused, waiting for Jack to catch up with his notes. “Good point, Leo. Do you two fish here often?”

Bob answered, “Yep, several times a week. There’s nobody that knows this lake like we do. Only guys fishing for bass go back near that shoreline. It’s too easy to lose your bait. This is a large lake, and we know the prime spots. There aren’t a lot of people that go back to the holes we fish at.”