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Walt dropped the girls off at the Rainbow Trail Adventure
Camp, getting a hug from each as well as a wistful, puppy-dog look from Nikki that he didn’t know how to interpret. He wasn’t sure if this was the result of some male defect, or denial, or if there was nothing to make of it in the first place, a fine piece of acting by a daughter who wanted her mother back. Beatrice whined from the front passenger seat, wishing the girls weren’t leaving, causing Walt to once again wonder if the dog wasn’t cha
Except for a chaotic press conference that had gone passably well, and some news trucks out front in the office parking lot, the prior day had moved monotonously slowly as he’d weeded his way out from behind his desk and hoped for something to bust open the Gale investigation. The county prosecutor had determined that the existence of the lilies in Boatwright’s garden, and the truck tires being the same manufacturer-Goodrich-as the impressions left at the crime scene were enough to win Walt a search based on probable cause. But he cautioned Walt not to be too hasty. There’d be formidable opposition from Boatwright’s attorneys once Walt took it to the next level, and he wanted time to prepare. He also wanted to coordinate with the King County prosecuting attorney so they didn’t accidentally jeopardize the Caroline Vetta investigation by coming off the blocks too early.
Each day that passed decreased the odds. The farther they got from the discovery of the body, the less likely the case would be solved.
Today passed much the same way: Walt feeling handcuffed by a cautious attorney and limited by circumstantial evidence. He called Fiona twice and left messages, fearing that she was avoiding his calls over embarrassment about the reappearance of the “stolen” Engleton truck, and let her know that he couldn’t care less and was just happy to know Kira had apparently returned. Fiona’s refusal to return his calls a
With the girls asleep and the dishes washed, he sat down at the computer to catch up on e-mail.
The kitchen phone rang and Walt snatched it up.
“I found the guy’s vehicle, Sheriff.”
“Gilly?”
“I found the SUV. Avis sticker on the bumper. Plates still on it. It’s Gale’s rental.”
“Where?”
“Well off trail or I’d have found it sooner. Was those night vision binoculars did it. Sun warmed the metal all day and the thing gave off a signature after dark. I’m standing here looking at it. You want me to open it up?”
“Don’t touch a thing. Give me directions. It’ll take me an hour or so. You sit tight.”
“Got it.”
He called Lisa and asked her to cover. Called the office and told them what he needed, including Fiona, and instructed them how to keep it off the radio, and how to release the vehicles one at a time, wanting to avoid a press stampede. Took a deep breath as he changed back into a freshly pressed uniform shirt.
He looked in on the girls just before Lisa arrived wearing a bathrobe with jeans. She looked tired and headed straight for the couch.
Walt offered his bed, saying, “Fresh sheets.”
“How long are you going to be?”
“Take the bed,” he said.
She nodded and trundled off, scratching her backside through the bathrobe and causing him to wonder if they didn’t know each other too well.
Gilly Menquez looked small and pale behind the glare of headlights, squinting into the searchlight from Walt’s Cherokee.
“This is good, right, Sheriff?”
“Very good.”
“About last week-”
“Forget about it, Gilly. It’s behind us.”
“I got me a wife and four kids. Another coming.”
“All the more reason not to drink on the job.”
“You coulda had me fired.”
“Just don’t make it ‘should have.’ ”
Gilly eyed him curiously.
“Never mind, Gilly. Just don’t let it happen again.”
“It won’t.”
Walt kept the smile off his face out of respect. Gilly looked all worked up, his face twisted like he might cry. Walt placed a hand on his shoulder, happy to have someone his own height, but wondering if Gilly’s devotion was to the Blessed Mother or the bottle.
“This is exactly as you found it?” The man nodded, but submissively, and Walt was begi
Flashlight in hand, Walt moved methodically through the forest undergrowth. He heard Beatrice clawing at the Cherokee’s side window and wished he could let her out. Gale’s rental had been abandoned in a swale between two treed ridges ru
He saw it as a wink of white, a color that didn’t belong in the forest palette, approached it somewhat breathlessly, nearly called out to Gilly at his find.
He pulled back some fern, revealing the smooth, turned handle and grip of a baseball bat. Bent and reached down farther, pulling back the twist of green revealing the bat’s wide end.
His heart was pounding now, really pounding, like he’d run a fair distance or hit the bench press. At first the discovery elated, filled him with a childish glee, cementing his theories and confirming his investigative excellence. He thought how impressed Boldt would be to discover that his own suspicions of Vince Wy
Just below the crown of the bat was a rust-colored smudge and what looked to be some human hair. He was looking at the murder weapon, and though he had yet to equate the truck’s abandonment with the discarded bat, the timing and the logistics, the co
He do
He dropped to one knee and was reaching for the center of the bat-keeping his contact off both the handle and the blood evidence-when the flashlight cast small shadows over the burned engraving-a script font-and three letters: ton
He knew bats-Louisville Sluggers in particular-knew the placement of the logo and the location on the bat of certain brands or endorsements. This fit neither. Without giving it any thought his mind jumped ahead, trying to process which slugger this particular bat was named for, and why it might have been burned onto the bat so far down the head. He spun the bat slightly and the rest of the name appeared: Engleton.
A WOOD RIVER LITTLE LEAGUE ALL-STAR DONOR: MICHAEL ENGLETON
Walt froze, the sound of the approaching vehicles growing louder. Off-balance and dizzy, he realized he wasn’t breathing. The bat was supposed to have come from Vince Wy