Blood equity, p.4
Blood Equity, page 4
“Not enough. Sunny was investigating the increase in illegal drug use, particularly K2, and Lance Crenshaw has a generic website that doesn’t tell us anything. So far, out of forty-seven Crenshaws in the general area, we haven’t found one who knew Lance.”
Devon piped up. “You know what would go a long way in learning about him and what he was investigating?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll make the call to Judge Laughlin and see about a warrant.”
Mitch nodded. “Thanks, Boss. That’ll help a lot.”
After Royce left, the detectives returned to making calls. It took only a minute before Devon threw an eraser at Mitch. He pointed at the phone then gave Mitch a thumbs-up. He had a hit. He jotted down information while the person on the other end of the line spoke. After several minutes of back-and-forth conversation, Devon thanked the person and hung up. “It’s about damn time.”
“A relative?”
“Yep, an aunt through marriage. Let’s go see if there’s anything useful she can tell us about Lance Crenshaw. I’ll drive.”
As they passed the historic church, the bells from the Cathedral Basilica of St. John the Baptist rang out eleven times. Devon was heading south to East Gwinnett Street, where a block of multicolor row houses stood. Lance’s widowed aunt, Doris Crenshaw, lived in one of them. The drive was nearly a straight shot south from the precinct. It took only seven minutes before they were parked at the curb in front of a pastel-green row house. Devon parked, they walked up the sidewalk, and Mitch rang the buzzer. A woman who appeared to be in her mid-sixties with short gray hair and a concerned look on her face opened the door and invited the detectives inside. She offered them the couch and took a seat across from them on a ladder-back chair.
“Now, you said you had questions about Lance?”
“That’s correct, ma’am,” Mitch said.
She smiled yet appeared confused. “Has he done something wrong and you don’t want him to know you’re asking questions?”
“Not at all, Mrs. Crenshaw. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear on the phone, but Lance has died, and we need information about his job and personal life.”
“Oh my word! I had no idea.”
Mitch held up his hand. “He just passed this morning, ma’am. There’s no way you would have known.”
She sighed. “I’ll admit, I hadn’t seen Lance since Bud’s funeral.” She looked at each detective. “Bud, my husband, passed away six months ago from cancer.”
“Sorry to hear that, Mrs. Crenshaw.”
She nodded. “Anyway, I’m not sure what I can tell you other than Lance was a lifelong bachelor and probably intended to stay that way. He has a dog, Millie, whom he loved dearly. Oh no. What’ll happen to Millie?”
“We’ll check into that, ma’am.”
She shook her head as if in disbelief. “Lance was so full of energy. How did he die?”
“We aren’t quite sure yet. It’s extremely early in the investigation. All we can say with certainty is that he passed away abruptly in Morrell Park this morning.”
“Was he there walking Millie?”
“No idea, ma’am. We didn’t see a loose dog in the area.”
“Well, as far as Lance’s job went, I do know he was very invested in helping people with their problems, no matter if they were legal or personal issues.”
“Do you have any idea what his latest project was?”
“Sorry, but like I said, it’s been a while since we’ve talked. Lance was kind of a loner and a workaholic. I’m the only family member he has in this area. I think he has cousins and a few aunts and uncles on his mom’s side in North Carolina, but I’m not certain if they’re all still there.”
“And that’s where his mother’s family is originally from?”
“It is, yes. Lance’s parents are both deceased. Have been for several years.”
Mitch took over the conversation. “Would you happen to have a key to his home? We’re concerned about Millie.”
“I do, actually. I don’t know why he gave it to me instead of a neighbor. Trust issues, I’d imagine.”
“May we use it to check on the dog? We’ll return it to you as soon as we can. And do you want Millie, or should we take the dog to an adoption agency?”
“Oh dear. I never thought of having a pet at my age.”
Mitch chuckled. “Ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying so, you aren’t old.”
She blushed. “Well, it has been lonely since Bud’s been gone. Okay, I believe Lance would have preferred it if I took Millie over a stranger having her. Yes, I’ll take that sweet girl, and I’ll go get the key for you.”
Doris returned to the living room minutes later with a lone key in her hand. “Am I supposed to handle Lance’s affairs?”
“We aren’t sure, Mrs. Crenshaw. We’ll look around in his office and see if we can find a will or the phone number of an attorney who might know. We’ll be seeing you soon, though, and we’ll have Millie with us when we return.”
“Thank you, Detectives. I’m so sorry to hear of Lance’s passing. What a sad day.”
Devon tipped his head. “Yes, it is, ma’am, and you have our deepest sympathy.”
Chapter 8
“So, head straight to Lance’s house?”
Mitch rubbed his brow. “Let me run the meeting with Doris past Sarge first. We do need to figure out something with the dog, though. Having that house key should go a long way with the boss in avoiding a warrant and the red tape that goes with it.”
Mitch made the call and was told to proceed. They needed to find out everything they could about Lance Crenshaw and if there was a reason anyone wanted to kill him or Sunny Montag.
Devon jerked his chin toward Mitch. “What’s Lance’s address again?”
“Hang on. I’ll check my notes.” Mitch flipped through his notepad. “Okay, cut west to Drayton and skirt along the park. It’s four blocks north of East Gaston on East Taylor. Hang a left, and the house should be on the right.”
“Got it.” Devon continued on as Mitch studied the notes about Lance that he’d taken earlier. Then Devon clamped on the brakes so fast he didn’t have time to yell a warning. They both nearly hit the windshield as Devon spun the wheel to the left. “What the hell, jackass!”
Mitch’s head slammed into the passenger-side window during the hard turn. He grunted then yelled to Devon. “Look out!”
Devon braced for impact with the oncoming car, but luckily, it zigged as they zagged. The cruiser jumped the curb, flew over the sidewalk, and ended up in the park. Fortunately, not a single tourist was on that stretch of sidewalk. Both men jumped out, and as Mitch ran, he looked around to make sure no bystanders were hurt. The man who had stumbled out onto the street only feet from the nose of their car grunted something inaudible as he flailed his arms wildly.
“Sir, sir! What’s wrong?” Mitch asked.
The man stiffened, arched his back, and fell face-first to the asphalt. Tourists in the park screamed out while others caught everything on their cell phones.
“Jesus, Mitch!” Devon yelled for the crowd to stay on the sidewalk while he ran to the cruiser and called 911. “This is Detective Devon Rue, and we need a bus to the intersection of Drayton and East Hall Street immediately. We’ve got a man down in the street, either dead or damn near. Can’t tell what his injuries are yet. Get some foot soldiers out here too. We need crowd control, and the street has to be blocked off.” Devon ended the call and rushed to Mitch, who was already kneeling at the man’s side. “Here’s some gloves.”
After stretching the gloves over his hands, Mitch carefully rolled the man over. The man’s face was covered in blood, likely due to a broken nose from the impact with the street. With two fingers against the man’s carotid artery, Mitch felt for a pulse then shook his head. “He’s gone.”
Less than three minutes later, the north fire station’s rescue vehicle arrived, and three EMTs leapt out. “What have we got?”
“A dead man,” Mitch said. “Apparently drugged up on something since he walked right into the street in front of our cruiser, flailing like a madman.”
Two squad cars squealed to a stop, blocking traffic on both sides of Abercorn Street. Officer Penny ran to the scene. “What do you need, Detectives?”
Mitch scanned their surroundings. “Cordon off the street at the nearest intersections, then get Forensics and Tapper’s crew out here ASAP. We’ve got a real problem on our hands.”
Devon blew out a long breath. “Do you think they’re even finished at the park?”
“No clue, but whatever this is”—Mitch pointed at the dead man—“is quickly getting out of control. We have too many things on our plate right now. We need to search Lance’s house, take the dog to Doris’s place, speak to the cameraman who was working with Sunny, and that doesn’t even take into account the fact that Tapper and the forensic guys are going to need help. It’s time to call Sarge and get some other people to pitch in.” Mitch made the call to his sergeant and told him the latest news even though he’d likely already heard about it.
Royce listened as Mitch explained the situation. “I’ll call in Prentice and Bloom to help out. They can take over your scene, and you and Devon can continue to Mr. Crenshaw’s house. Find out whatever you can there as far as clients and what he was currently working on. Get the dog out of the home, and then go find that cameraman who was working with Sunny. We need to know when he saw her last. I’ll also push the BOLO out farther for her car. We need to know where this latest victim was coming from and where he was going to. Damn it. Every victim was on foot, so that makes tracking their last known location even tougher.” After more curse words, Royce told Mitch to leave the scene as long as plenty of patrol units were on site, and he would take care of everything else. “I’m going to make one additional call and get some advice.”
“To whom?”
Royce let out a frustrated groan. “I need to call the FBI.”
Chapter 9
That Sunday afternoon, I’d been enjoying a houseful of friends we’d had over to watch the NBA playoff game. A huge assortment of snacks covered a table in the basement, where our rec room and a seventy-inch TV were located, and the refrigerator was stocked with cold beer. My phone rang, and ten heads snapped in my direction.
“Don’t you ever shut that thing down?” Jack asked.
“Like you do?” I grabbed my phone and stepped outside to talk. Renz was calling.
“Hey, Jade. Sorry to ruin whatever you were doing, but Taft just contacted me. Because everyone is already deployed to other cases, it looks like you and I are on the hook to take this one.”
“What is this one, and does that mean we’re traveling, or is it something local?”
“How do you like Savannah?”
I chuckled. “I love Savannah but not so much in the summer, although the humidity is just ramping up now. It could be bearable, I guess. Why? What’s going on there?”
“It seems that people are literally falling over dead.”
“Wow. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised since Savannah is the most haunted city in America. Any clues or leads?”
“Nope. Just started last night, and so far, in less than twenty-four hours, there’s been three identical deaths that law enforcement is aware of. The victims were described to Taft as zombielike, agitated people who stumble, flail around, and fall flat on their faces. They’re dead within seconds.”
I circled my yard and waved to my neighbor as we talked. “Sounds like poison. What about tox reports?”
“Too soon for the results, especially since it’s a weekend.”
“Okay, so head in?”
“Yep. Taft will meet us at the office, give us the contact names, and we’ll go from there.”
“Good enough. I’m on my way.” Back in the house, I made my apologies, grabbed my summer go bag, and left. I would learn more once Renz and I were face-to-face with Taft. What I knew so far wasn’t much, and it didn’t sound like the Savannah PD had much either.
Forty-five minutes later, I entered our building with my bag slung over my shoulder. Taking the elevator was the quickest route to the third floor. I opted to take it since I assumed Renz and Taft were awaiting my arrival. After leaving the bag next to my desk, I headed down the hallway to the conference room, where, as I’d thought, they were both at the table and having a conversation.
I took my seat. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”
Taft gave me a nod. “Jade. Lorenzo and I were making small talk. You haven’t missed anything. Now, shall we get started?”
“Absolutely.” I pulled out my notepad even though we would be provided a full outline of what was known. I always liked to document the highlights of our conversations anyway.
Taft opened one of the three folders in front of her then passed one to Renz and another to me. “The odd deaths began last night in the Colonial Park Cemetery, which I’ve learned is a hot spot for paranormal activity. That cemetery is one of the main attractions on the late-night ghost tour.”
I thought about Kate and how that type of case would be high on her “to do and see” list.
“A bloody woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere and came toward the tour group. Witnesses said she walked in a stiffened yet frantic fashion.”
I jotted down the description. “That had to be unnerving.”
“I’m sure it was. She called out ‘Help me’ then fell over dead. The same thing happened this morning in another well-known tourist location, Morrell Park, where a man began shooting wildly at people, hitting two tourists, but thankfully, they were treated and released at the nearest hospital. That man, again, flailed, cried out ‘Help me,’ and fell over dead. Just two hours ago, a third man walked out onto a street next to Forsyth Park and was nearly hit by a cruiser driven by the detectives who had just interviewed a relative from the earlier incident. The man flailed and fell over dead.”
Renz frowned. “So he didn’t ask for help?”
“They didn’t know since they were in the car, plowed over the curb, and right into the park to avoid hitting him. Luckily, no pedestrians were injured.”
“Jeez. That’s too many deaths to be ruled a coincidence in that short of a time.”
Taft agreed. “And that’s why you two are lending a hand and your expertise. These could very well be serial crimes, as in poisoning deaths. Your mission is to find out who was chosen, why they were, and who is committing the crimes. I’ve been told the first tox report should be in first thing in the morning. I want your feet on the ground in Savannah by then.”
I tapped my pen against the notepad.
“Jade, something on your mind?” Taft asked.
“Just the fact that those deaths all occurred in public, touristy places. And all three victims were on foot?”
Taft checked the police report. “It says they were. So far, only the woman’s car from last night has a BOLO out on it. The other two deaths are so recent the police haven’t gotten to that place in the investigation yet.”
I jotted that down too. “I’ve only been to Savannah twice in my life, but those locations all seem to be in the historic area of the city. Again, the tourist corridor.”
“Work on that angle, then, and see if anything pops. Your contact at the precinct on the corner of Habersham and East Oglethorpe Avenue is Sergeant Raleigh Royce, along with Lead Detectives Mitch Cannon and Devon Rue. I’m sure you’ll meet and work with many more officers during your stay, but”—Taft glanced at the wall clock—“if you head out now, you’ll get there while all of them are still on duty.”
Renz stood. “Roger that. Has Tory booked rooms for us, or should we take care of that ourselves?”
“It’s been taken care of, and you’ll be staying at the Marshall House. The address is 123 East Broughton Street, and it’s only a few blocks from the police station. Good luck, Agents, and text me when you arrive.”
Renz and I headed out. Soon, we’d be boarding a commercial flight to Savannah and were scheduled to arrive at four fifteen eastern time. We had seats 1A and B in first class, where we would have room—and a certain amount of privacy—to work. A rental car would be waiting for us at Savannah/Hilton Head International Airport, and the hotel was a short fifteen-mile drive away.
Chapter 10
Mitch and Devon continued to Lance Crenshaw’s house and parked at the curb along the house’s front sidewalk. Once at the door, Mitch rang the bell and immediately heard a dog barking.
“Guess that’s telling us Millie is inside. Now to find out if she’s friendly to strangers or not.” Mitch stuck the key in the knob and gave it a turn. He looked at Rue. “Ready?”
Devon shrugged. “Doris did say that Millie was a sweet dog, although she didn’t tell us Millie’s size. No time like the present.”
Mitch pushed the door inward and called out to the dog. “Millie, come here, girl.” He turned to Devon. “Kneel down so we don’t appear threatening.”
Devon frowned. “Why, so she can bite our faces?”
“Just do it.”
They both took a knee. Mitch continued calling out to the dog, and seconds later, Millie inched around the corner. She appeared unsure about the intruders but wagged her tail anyway.
“Come here, Millie. It’s okay, girl. Come on.” She approached cautiously then licked Mitch’s outstretched hand. He scratched her behind the ears. “Good girl. Everything is going to be okay. Let’s see if you have water or need to go outside.”
Devon huffed. “Guess you’re the dog whisperer.”
“Nah, but I know how to put dogs at ease. Don’t forget I’ve had Gus for the last five years. Let’s get her squared away and take a look in Lance’s office.” Mitch found the back door just off the kitchen and looked out the window over the sink. “Good, the yard is fenced. I’ll fill her water dish and let her out for a bit while we take a look around.” After coaxing the sheltie outside with a bowl of cold water, Mitch closed the door behind him then found Devon already searching the office.
