Dead Guilty by Beverly Connor

it
wasn’t a long ride.
As they rounded a corner and turned into a drive
leading
to
the
trailer
park,
Diane
saw
a
police
car
parked out front. The single trailer was lit, revealing
silhouettes of two uniformed officers moving through
the length of it.
As Diane and the sheriff stepped out of the car, the
two uniforms emerged. One was Janice Warrick. Good thing her eyes aren’t phasers, thought Diane as
they came face-to-face. Warrick held her chin high and
jaw clenched and addressed the chief of detectives.
‘‘He’s not here.’’
‘‘How’s it look inside?’’
‘‘A mess,’’ said Janice Warrick. ‘‘Chairs overturned,
drawers
pulled
out
and
emptied.
We’re
looking
for
Mayberry now. Officer Wallace is calling his parents
and friends, and we have an APB out for his car.’’
‘‘Did you see any blood, drug paraphernalia...?’’
Garnett asked.
Janice shook her head. ‘‘Nothing but the mess. We
only
did
a
casual
look
through.
That’s
all
we
could
do.’’ Her eyes darted in Diane’s direction and back
to Garnett.
‘‘Stay
here
and
see
if
he
shows
up.
We
need
to
find him,’’ said Garnett. He turned to step back into
his car.
There was nothing for Diane to do but go back to
the crime scene. With three people working, perhaps
it wouldn’t take the entire night.
    ‘‘Sorry,
guys,’’ Diane said to her crew.
‘‘No problem. Who needs sleep?’’ said David.
The warrant had arrived in her absence, and Jin and
    David,
clad in head and shoe coverings, had already
started. David was photographing the body, and Jin
had begun a fingerprint search, starting at the front
entryway and following a path to the bedroom. Whit
stood just outside the bedroom door watching David.
Garnett
stopped beside
the body.
Whit
wore gloves
and shoe coverings. Garnett did not.
    On
the
porch,
Diane
had
donned
a
hair
cap
and
fresh
shoe
coverings.
Now
she
slipped
on
a
pair
of
gloves and examined the knots in the rope that bound
and
strangled
Chris
Edwards.
Of
particular
interest
was the knot tied in the middle of the rope between
the clothes bar and Chris Edwards.
    ‘‘Get
good photographs of the knots.’’
‘‘Of course,’’ said David.
‘‘What about the knots?’’ Garnett stepped up be
hind her.
    Diane
wondered if he had decided to take the lead
in
the investigation.
Janice Warrick
hadn’t
yet been
replaced, and Garnett had stated to the press when he
accepted the appointment as chief that he was going to
take a hands-on approach.
    She
handed him a pair of latex gloves and covers for
his shoes. He looked at them quizzically for a moment
before he slipped them on.
    ‘‘The
rope
and
knots
are
different
from
the
ones
used with the other victims,’’ said Diane.
‘‘That’s significant?’’
‘‘It is indeed.’’
‘‘Diane is an expert in knots,’’ offered David, snap
ping another photograph. ‘‘In that she has had to hang
from them herself on many occasions.’’
David
was
good
at
keeping
conversational
tones,
treating people like Garnett as if he was one of the
team and not an adversary—which was the way Diane
saw him.
‘‘Uh, you’ll have to explain that,’’ said Garnett. He
gave Diane a sidelong glance.
‘‘I’m
a
caver,’’
she
said.
‘‘I
work
on
rope
a
lot.’’
Diane sniffed the corpse’s hair. ‘‘Shampoo. He’d just
come out of
the shower. I take it
Miss Beck found
the body. Why so late?’’
‘‘She just got off work,’’ said Garnett.
Diane
studied
the
body.
Chris
Edwards
was
clad
only in briefs, and there were bruises on his face, ab
domen and arms. Despite the discoloration of his face
resulting from the strangulation, bruises were still evi
dent on his right temple and the right side of his jaw,
as
well
as
his
arms.
Dried
blood
was
caked
on
his
nose, down around his mouth and in his hair. He had
put up a fight.
‘‘He looks like he was kicked.’’ Garnett pointed out
the bruising on his side.
‘‘It looks like it,’’ Diane agreed.