Yellow Ribbons (4 page)

Their boss had been incommunicado too much lately. Greg didn’t know what the fuck his problem was, though judging from the stench of alcohol that emanated from Kenyon one too many mornings, Greg had his suspicions. This was one time he and Lani wouldn’t be able to cover his ass.

“A Key Wives volunteer is on her way to get the kids. One who’s familiar with the family, so the girls won’t have to stay with strangers. She’s been briefed on the basic nature of the emergency but not given details. I need a deputy to go back inside the house with me so I can pack some things for the kids.” Greg patted the logbook in his jacket pocket. “They gave me a list.”

“No fucking way.” Juarez pushed around to Jordan’s left so the three of them now formed a semicircle around Greg. “I don’t trust you people to not cover up evidence to protect your man in there.”

Lani lifted her palms. “Protect him from what? He’s dead. Murdered.”

Damn, she’s sharp
. Greg’s chest puffed up. She’d noticed the knife, most likely the shoddy bondage attempt too. Maybe seen things he’d missed.

“We want to catch a murderer the same as you,” Jordan told him. “Your partner asked me to be here. You know how this is going to go down. You know you’ll be working with NCIS. Maybe your boss will even request we take over. Let’s try to keep it cordial. I don’t want any mistakes.”

“You can’t be serious!” Heads turned their way at Juarez’s shout. Neighbors started whispering among themselves.

Greg jabbed a finger in his direction. “Keep your voice down. You wake those kids, and I swear to God—”

“I need info.”

“And I’ve got it. The kids talked to me.” Deciphering what they meant… That was going to be tricky. But it was enough to get a good start.

“How can I be sure you haven’t tainted it? You people are insane if you think I’m going to allow your involvement with this case. How objective can any of you be?”

Jordan and Lani both drew breath to respond. Greg beat them to it. “First of all, it’s not your call—”

“One more word from you, and I’ll go posse comitatus on your ass.” Juarez pushed the words out through clenched teeth.

The man truly was an idiot. Greg felt sorry for Ron Pattison. “Trust me, I have no intention of letting you anywhere near my ass, detective.”

Lani pressed her lips together and stared at the ground. Jordan didn’t bother to fight a snort of laughter. Juarez’s hand clenched into a fist.

Greg took a step forward, hoping to cut off a swing. “The fact you even said that shows how little you know. I realize you’re new to working with military. To refresh, local agreements exist that deal with where and when military and civilian law enforcement agencies become involved with investigations. They will be adhered to. As for our objectivity…we’re professionals. Can you say the same?” He glanced at Juarez’s fist, then locked a stare on him, silently ordering him to back down or else.

Juarez pulled in a shaky breath and relaxed his hand. “What’d you find out from the kids, Sergeant?”

That jerked Lani’s head up and her mouth open. Jordan took a step back. Greg kept staring at Juarez. The guy couldn’t help that he was stupid.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were deliberately trying to piss me off, detective. So, for you, considering you’ve lost what little common sense you possess and in light of the magnitude of this scene…it’s
master gunnery sergeant
. Not sergeant, not gunny, not top.
Master gunnery sergeant
. Use it.”

The fist tightened again. Greg had only beaten the hell out of someone once during his twenty years in the Marine Corps. He really didn’t want to have it come to blows tonight. But if Juarez took a swing…

Lani brought her hand up, all fingers poised on her thumb to really hammer home the point she was about to make. He’d seen her use the gesture whenever her patience had reached the end of its tether.

“I’ve had about enough of this. Two people are dead. Someone did it. Could we please focus on that and not who has the biggest penis right now?”

Juarez’s face turned crimson. Beck’s jaw dropped.

Greg fought a smirk. Yep, that was his captain, and he was damn proud of it. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now…on to the children.” She dropped her arm. “You get any more info on this Santa-hating man hurting their mother?”

Greg flexed his shoulders. “I think it’s a child’s view of hearing and observing sex. Susie heard them one night during Christmas, thought her mother was sick and crying so went to help her. She saw the man on top of her mother and started hitting him to get him to stop. Her mother got everyone calmed down and tucked the girls back into bed. An argument ensued between them, during which he said the girls were old enough to realize there wasn’t a Santa and old enough to know not to burst into someone’s bedroom.” Greg made quote marks. “‘He hates being rupted.’”

“Oh…” Lani nodded. “
Interrupted
.”

“Was it the same man as tonight?” Jordan asked.

“They don’t know. Their sitter had them in bed before their mother got home. Their mother came in to kiss them good night and told them to stay in bed. Both girls woke up when they heard something break. There was a lot of
bad
noise. They hid until it stopped, then went to their mother…”

And found all that.

“There could be evidence on them,” Juarez said.

“They were too scared to go in their mother’s bedroom when they saw the blood. Instead, they went to the living room and huddled in their dad’s chair. Susie called and stayed on the line with the operator until the deputy sheriffs came to the door. The girls didn’t budge until the deputies arrived. They didn’t know the Santa man’s name. All the girls remember is that he had brown hair and mean eyes.”

“Well, if someone had
rupted
me, I’d have mean eyes too,” Jordan said.

“Been there.” Less than an hour ago, thanks to Jordan. “But no matter how
rupted
I was, I’d never trash Santa.” He and Jordan bumped fists.

Lani issued the Sigh of Doom. “Boys, could we please focus?”

“You’re the one who brought up penises,” Jordan said, as if it were perfectly logical.

Then Lani passed Jordan a look Greg wished he’d never seen—sultry bedroom eyes, and the hint of a smile teased her lips.

“I am all powerful, aren’t I?” Her tone was low, filled with sexual promise. “Don’t worry.” She tucked her arms over her chest slowly, bringing attention to her breasts and the hint of cleavage pressing upward in the V-neck sweater. “I only use my powers for good, not evil.”

“Yeah, real professional, morons.” Juarez took a giant step away from them. “I need a smoke.” His about-face nearly toppled him in his haste to leave. Ten feet away, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, no doubt calling in a complaint about them.

Greg scuffed his palms together. “Now that we’ve managed to scare him off…”

“It’s a murder staged to look like suicide. I’d stake my career on it.” Lani hugged herself against the cool night. She must have forgotten her jacket in her haste to get here. Greg thought about offering his but knew she’d refuse.

“Agreed.” Jordan pulled a notepad from his suit pocket. “And whoever did it knew enough to not leave a bloody foot trail behind him.”

Good. All three of them were on the same page. “Considering the blood in the room, that was quite a feat. Clothes, shoes, hands, hair.”

“Bathroom,” they said together.

“Door to master bath was open when I arrived. Laminate floor. Easily wiped up. We’ll know more when the forensic techs process the scene.” Jordan scribbled notes as fast as he could say the words. “Deputies would have run a perimeter check and reported any unique footprints in the yard.”

Lani leaned forward, as if to share a secret. “Even if they thought it was a suicide? Please, let’s not presume anything at this point.”

Jordan drummed his pen against the notepad and studied the house.

Greg weighed their options. Their next step was fairly clear. “The bottom line is, we can bluster, bluff, and bullshit all we want, but until it’s official, none of us can do anything here.”

“Except intimidate,” Jordan added.

“And we’ve done that very well.” Lani surveyed the house. “No one’s going to get inside to investigate anything until the coroner’s done. I’ll feel more comfortable once Pattison arrives, but in the meantime, we can start with a thorough look around the house and beyond. Get the deputies to talk with the neighbors and take information.”

Greg glanced toward Juarez, who was storming their way once more. He kept his voice low, for their ears only. “And pray his incompetence hasn’t already screwed things up.”

Jordan grunted. “He looks like a cartoon bull with smoke coming out of his ears and nose.”

Or a gunfighter, judging from the stance the man took ten feet from them: hands on hips, legs astride. “Hey, Beck, your boyfriend’s here.” He walked away, his footsteps pounding divots into the sand, only to be waylaid by Ron Pattison jogging up.

“Where the fuck’ve you been?” Juarez’s voice was low but the snarl in it carried.

“I got called into something.” Pattison kept walking. His personality was large, the type of person who filled a room when he walked in. His compact body allowed him to be light on his feet, stealthy. He left little trace in his wake. He was light to Juarez’s dark, in more ways than looks. People gravitated to Pattison and avoided Juarez like the plague. The fact that Pattison had openly invited NCIS to watch over his partner was going to feed animosity. It was hard to sympathize.

Pattison caught Juarez’s shoulder, urging him back the way he’d come. “Fill me in.”

Juarez joined the circle as long as it took for them to brief his partner, then started to walk away once more.

“Care to run a perimeter check together now?” Greg called to his back.

Juarez turned, passed a scathing gaze over them, then nodded. “All right.”

It was a nice olive branch, one Greg wasn’t sure Juarez deserved. But they all lived and worked in this community. It never hurt to play nice. Maybe one day Juarez would realize that… If he lasted on the job. Pattison might kill him first.

In the end the search was a fruitless endeavor. The window leading from the master bathroom was too small to crawl through. The standard desert landscape—sand, rock, and more sand—around the house with the added activity from daily use made it difficult to determine any unique footprints in the dark.

Sometime in the hours of oh-dark-thirty, Greg, Lani, and Jordan were ready to call it done. The girls were safely in the hands of Nancy Dickerson, the Key Wives volunteer for their father’s unit, who somehow kept calm despite her red-rimmed eyes. Their blue “Going To Grandma’s” suitcases were stuffed with most of the items they’d requested that Greg retrieve, as well as clothes. Their father was going to be home in days and learn that not only was his wife screwing around, she was dead. At least he’d get to see his daughters in something more than Dora PJs and piggy slippers. Greg knew he was exaggerating that point. Someone would have gotten clothing for the girls. But it was the principle of the thing—they needed something of their own, something normal.

Tipton and Regina’s bodies were removed, and the investigators moved in. The coroner had a memory card filled with pictures of the crime scene. NCIS and/or the sheriff’s department would dig into the rest. It was going to be a long night for them in any event.

“You coming? I could use your help in there.” Pattison clapped Jordan on the back.

Jordan seemed to mull it over. “Let me go grab a bite first. I didn’t get dinner. Want me to bring you back something?”

Pattison glanced at his watch, rubbed his stomach, and looked around as if the answer waited for him in the palm trees. “Cheeseburger, no onions.”

“Extra pickles. Got it.”

Loose strides carried Pattison toward the house. Greg didn’t know where the hell Juarez had gone and didn’t much care.

Jordan shifted a lazy-eyed look right down at Lani. Greg didn’t like or trust the smile in the man’s eyes. “Come with me. We’ll grab a bite. My treat.”

The invitation clearly wasn’t meant for Greg.

Lani shook her head. “By the time we get fed, I could have had mac and cheese with ground beef.”

“Works for me.” Jordan’s grin dimmed the departing headlights. “I’ll even help cook.”

She shot Greg a nervous look from the corner of her eye.

What the fuck is this
? Jordan was making a move on his captain.
His
captain. Unless there was already something going on. The thought rankled him.

“Is there something the two of you want to share?” The question came out rougher than Greg intended, or maybe he didn’t make it rough enough, all things considered.

“Only that we’re tired and hungry.” Lani wouldn’t even look his way now, her smiles and brightness going to Jordan. “Come on. Let’s all head to my place. I think we might also be able to down a cold beer before I chase you two off.”

“Sounds like a deal to me.” Jordan clapped his hand on Greg’s back. “You in?”

What the hell do you think
? “Lead the way.”

Jordan blasted another megawatt smile Lani’s way. “You heard the man, Captain.”

“Follow me, gentlemen.”

Not watching her walk away was hard. Not watching Jordan watch her walk away was impossible. Horny and hunting were written all over his face. That hot look she’d given him hadn’t helped either, even if it had been given in jest. It had been, hadn’t it?

Jordan leaned close, his gaze still locked on Lani’s ass. “What would it take to convince you to not show up?”

Greg couldn’t believe the guy’s nerve. “You’ve got to be joking.”

Jordan turned to him, palms up, pleading and looking like he was ready to fall down on his knees and beg. “Cut me some slack.”

“To put it bluntly”—but not nearly as blunt as Greg wanted—“you
rupted
me tonight. You pulled me from the bed of a beautiful woman. There’s no way I’m going to leave you alone with my captain so you can make your moves.”
My captain.