Cut to the Bone(14)
“Already heard that, so I put more phones and laptops in the auditorium,” Branch said. “Our tech guys are setting up the database. Their media sergeant volunteered to be our official spokesman, and I accepted. Both canine units are sniffing the park.”
“They find anything?”
“Picked up a scent in the woods. Lost it in the parking lot.”
“Shooter escaped in a vehicle, then. Not on foot.”
“Uh-huh. I put up roadblocks, but they won’t do any good. Too much time elapsed before Marty found the body. Shooter could be in Iowa by now.”
“Goddamn Ray,” Cross grumbled. “Why didn’t he tell his dispatcher what he was doing? At least we’d know what the shooter was driving.”
“He might have tried,” Branch said. “I’m no fan of Ray’s” - Marty had refreshed his memory of the self-important blowhard - “but the dead zone might have kept him from connecting. His lieutenant was on him to pump tickets, so he said screw the radio, I’ll call it in later.”
“You’re probably right. We’ve all been there,” Cross said. “Moving on, what evidence did-”
“Hang on, Chief, can’t hear you.”
Cross waited for the static to ease.
“What evidence did you find in the park?” he continued.
“Blood, bullets, footprints, cruiser, and Ray,” Branch recited. “Along with the usual park trash - beer cans, take-out, condoms, whatnot.”
“Lots for the crime lab to process.”
“With more coming. CSIs are just starting the detail sweep.”
“I’ll ask the state lab for help. What did you find at the spa?”
“Nothing useful. Emily did spot something unusual, though.” He explained.
“Interesting,” Cross said.
“I thought so,” Branch said. “I’ll make sure she follows up.”
“Good. Sounds like you’ve got everything under control.”
“Till the next shoe drops. Where are you?”
“Northbound I-55, passing Bloomington,” Cross said. “I’ll be in Naperville in an hour.”
“It’s 110 miles!”
“Your point?”
“I’ll call with news,” Branch chuckled. “Assuming you live through the fireball to hear it.”
Cross smiled, then disconnected.
He called the mayor and city manager with updates. The sheriff to coordinate assignments and offer condolences. The state lab for help. And finally, the governor. Covington had offered to take over execution security so Cross could concentrate on the double homicide. Cross considered it, but decided to say no. Matter of pride. He’d meant what he said in Springfield - nobody was better than his cops.
“Are you positive you can handle both?” Covington said after Cross explained.
“Yes,” Cross said. “But if that changes, I’ll call.”
“Make sure you do,” Covington warned. “I don’t care if Martians land on that Riverwalk of yours, Trent is going to die at noon Friday. It’s your job to make sure that happens.”
Cross looked at the cell phone. “I told you I can do both, Wayne, and I will. But the homicides take priority if push comes to shove.”
“Goddammit, Ken, that’s not what I want to hear-”
“If they’re not solved ASAP, chances are they won’t be,” Cross said. “Since one’s a police officer and the other a young woman, failure is not an option.” He shook his head. “Your execution, on the other hand, can easily be rescheduled.”
“Rescheduled?” Covington roared, his voice greased with anger. “Have you lost your mind? That monster cut a baby from a mother’s living womb!”
Cross turned down the volume.
“Trent’s so inhuman his parents moved out of state when he was convicted. One sister changed her name, the other hangs up on reporters when they mention his name. His brother told Newsweek, ‘Our heart goes out to those poor victims. Our family neither fathoms, nor forgives, this monstrous act. Corey is no longer our blood, and we won’t be there for him. Ever.’“
“Gee, I didn’t know that,” Cross said. “It’s only led every newscast this week. Whatever you pay your press secretary, it’s not enough-”
“He’s going to burn!” Covington raged, a full octave higher. “In my electric chair! Till smoke comes out his ears! You screw this up, Ken, I’ll fire your ass and-”
“Don’t you threaten me, Wayne,” Cross shot back. “I don’t work for you. As for Trent, he is a jackal, and I’ll light him up Friday as requested. But a guarantee? You don’t get one. There are no guarantees in this business, and you know it. What the hell’s wrong with you?”