Page 7 of The Killer You Know
I glance up at the ambulance and note a woman sitting in the back, tall, medium build, shoulder-length wavy light brown hair, hollow looking eyes with dark rings around them. She’s wearing a blue sundress, and by the looks of it has a wad of gauze wrapped around her left thigh.
“Who’s she?” I nod her way.
Sheriff Diaz spins around. “That’s one of the women that was hit. The other two were taken to Aspen Heights Memorial. You could start with her if she’s up for it. When you’re done, take a tour. We have everything marked out where the bullets landed.”
I scan the scene and note the meticulous work of the CSI team. “Any leads on where they might have taken her? Tire tracks?”
“No idea,” Diaz says with frustration evident in his tone. “But we’re combing through everything, tire tracks included. Anything you folks can do to help would be appreciated.”
We split ways with him and Jack and I make a beeline for the woman in the back of the ambulance. A paramedic removes a blood pressure cuff from her arm and walks away, leaving her to scan the vicinity as the officers and technicians invade the space.
“Hello.” I force a smile to come and go. I’m not friendly by nature, but I know enough to warm up when a victim is concerned. “We’re with the FBI.” I flash our badges and omit any other formalities. The last thing I want is for her to feel as if she’s to blame. “The sheriff filled us in a little. Would you mind telling us what happened? We’d like to hear it from you. How about we start with your name?”
“Vanessa Copeland,” she says, shivering as she holds herself despite the summer heat in the air. “My mother owns this place. Everything was going pretty good right up until the end and then things went to hell pretty quickly.” She offers a half-smile our way before doing a double take at Jack. I can’t blame her. Most women do.
“Jackie?” She inches back and her mouth squares out with a slight look of horror.
Now there’s a look most women don’t give him.
And Jackie?
Now this I’ve got to hear.
5
Special Agent Fallon Baxter
“Nessa?” Jack’s voice sounds just as bewildered as hers before he steps forward and offers the brunette a partial embrace as she sits at the edge of the ambulance. “I can’t believe this. It’s been years.”
“A million, it feels like.” A tiny laugh sputters from her as she loosens a bit. “So you’re with the FBI now? I thought I heard you were a cop or something.”
“I was a detective before I went with the FBI.” He sheds a short-lived dimpled grin. “Baxter, Nessa and I went to school together.” He sighs her way. “I heard they took Brittney. Tell me everything that happened. Don’t skip a single detail. Anything could help bring her back.”
“Yes, of course.” She shudders as she glances at the house. “My mom passed away about six months ago, and after I cleared out her place, I decided to sell it. Brittney and I sort of kept in touch. We’re a part of some big message thread, girls of Aspen Heights High, just our class. You know, wishing one another a happy birthday, updates on life events, networking. Anyway, she seemed happy to sell the place. We didn’t get any hits for a while, but she found a woman who was interested and she brought her sister out today. Those are the women who were shot,” she says my way. “Along with me.” She swings the leg with the gauze on it. “Anyway, I was hanging out here in the front once they arrived. Brittney introduced us briefly and then I let her do her thing. About fifteen minutes into it, I heard a couple of shots. I thought maybe it was from one of the neighbors. The next thing I know, I see some lunatic dragging Brittney away like she was nothing. I shouted at them to stop, but they fired at me. So I took off into the woods. I ran for my life,” she pants, glancing at the dense forest just to the left of the house.
“You were out the front?” I ask. “Then you must have seen the car they were driving.”
She shakes her head. “They may have been parked beyond those hedges.” She nods to a row of dense shrubbery just beyond where Jack parked. “That’s the only thing I can think of. I mean, I would have seen them otherwise. But then, I was running for my life.”
“Okay,” I say, snapping a few quick pictures of the shrubs from this angle, along with the house.
Jack sighs. “How did Brittney seem when she showed up today?”
“Fine.” Vanessa shrugs at the thought. “She said she spent the day in her office. It was late afternoon when she got here. There was still plenty of light at that point to show the property. I was hopeful for something good to come out of this. We both were.” She closes her eyes a moment. “Anyway, Brittney and I weren’t close or anything. I don’t really know if there was anything happening behind the scenes.” She lifts her head a notch as she looks at Jack. “I think she was still dating Derek on and off. You remember Derek.” She frowns at the mention of him before tossing me a glance. “He was the resident bad boy, along with Jackie and Mitch.” She sucks in a quick breath and smiles. “Hey, tell Mitch I said hello. I keep forgetting the two of you were sort of brothers.”
Jack does consider Mitch Decker a brother since Mitch’s parents took in Jack and his biological brother, Jet, after their parents were both imprisoned. His mother for robbery, although she was a prostitute as well, so who knows what the final charges were. And all I know about his father is that he was a heroin addict who was chronically late with the rent.
Jack offers a forlorn smile. “I’ll tell him you said so. And I do remember Derek. Do you have any idea where I can find him?”
“He owns a bar in Elmwood.” She quirks a brow at the mention of the town. I’m guessing because Elmwood is the armpit of Colorado. It also happens to be where Jack’s family hailed from. “I think it’s called the Penalty Box. If anyone knows about Brittney, it’s probably him.”
“Thank you,” Jack tells her as he hands her his card. “Call me if you remember anything else. And I mean anything. We’re going to take a look around. You should really get to the hospital and have them check you out properly. I’ll take care of everything here. I promise it’s in good hands. And I’ll do my best to find Brittney, too.”
“Thanks, Jackie.” She lunges his way and offers him another hearty embrace, nearly falling out of the ambulance while doing so. “The sheriff has my information. And I teach art now out at Aspen Heights High if you need anything. So please don’t hesitate to call me either. I’m really worried. Things like this never seem to end well.” Her lips quiver as she glances back at her bandaged thigh.
We take off and inspect the property, the front and the back. We don’t bother heading inside since according to the sheriff and the witnesses, the perpetrator never entered the house.
We wrap it up just as the ambulance pulls away with Vanessa in it, and our phones chirp at the same time—and as of late, that’s never a good sign.