The Covert Element by John L. Betcher Read Free Book Online

me."
    "Gunner. You know you want in on this investigation. You can
see the Staties are already screwing it up with this press brownout.
If I were in your shoes, I’d do a little investigating on my own and
prove my worth in this deal. You know what I mean?"
    Gunner considered for a moment.
    "Well . . . you’re not in my shoes. I’m just a cog in this frickin’
chain of command. Sheriff says leave it to the BCA . . . I leave to the
BCA."
    I raised an eyebrow and gave him a "what a weenie" stare.
    "Don’t give me that look, dammit!"
    I could tell Gunner was softening.
    "Okay. Well, I’m taking a look at that crime scene again.
Whether you come along is up to you."
    Gunner tilted his head all the way back and stared at the
ceiling.
     
    * * *
     
    We took Gunner’s cruiser out to the scene of the previous day’s
holocaust. There was a State Trooper’s car at the end of the
driveway. Gunner pulled over and rolled down his window.
    "What’s up, Deputy?" the Trooper asked. "Restricted area, you
know."
    Gunner gave him the "aw shucks, I gotta kick the shit off my
boots" schtick.
    "I know. But I was out here yesterday." He showed his ID to the
Trooper, who checked it against a list of the previous day’s
attendees. "And this is sort of embarrassing . . . but I left my walkie
in there. It’s not something I’m proud of. But I’d sure appreciate it if
you’d cut a local guy a break and let me go fetch it."
    The Trooper noted that Gunner had assumed the appropriate
subservient attitude.
    "Okay," he said finally. "You can go in. But don’t mess with
anything. Just get the walkie and leave. Got it?"
    "Absolutely. Got it. Thanks much, sir. You’re an officer and a
gentleman."
    Oh for God’s sake , I thought. Gunner’s acting sucks .
    Surprisingly, the Trooper flipped us a friendly finger gun and
clucked his cheek – apparently a law enforcement universal sign of
good will – and waved us on our way.
    I could tell Gunner was tense from all the groveling.
    "Good sucking up, Gunner. Couldn’t have done better myself,"
I lied.
    Gunner grunted and released his shoulder belt. We proceeded
up the narrow dirt drive to the building site . . . coming to a stop
well before we reached the yellow "Crime Scene" tape.
    I’d seen enough of local police procedure to know that, if this
place wasn’t crawling with Crime Scene geeks, they had already
finished their work. It wasn’t likely we could inadvertently ruin any
valuable evidence that hadn’t already been measured,
photographed, tested, catalogued, and filed – in triplicate – at BCA
Headquarters.
    "So what do we look for, Deputy?"
    Gunner squinted at me.
    "You’re the guy who had the hots for gettin’ out here. BCA will
have already done all the stuff I would do. And I’m not exactly a
human crime lab."
    "Okay then. Let’s look for stuff you wouldn’t normally look for."
    Gunner put a hand on his hip and raised an eyebrow.
    "If I knew what stuff I wouldn’t look for, I’d probably look for it
. . . wouldn’t I."
    "All right." He had a point, actually. "How about I suggest some
things and you tell me whether we should look for ‘em. That work
for you?"
    "Like what?" Gunner remained skeptical of my approach.
    "Let’s assume that our initial impressions were correct. This
whole mess is part of some sort of gang war or drug fight."
    Gunner looked at me like I hadn’t said anything helpful.
    "Wouldn’t the bad guys who did this leave some sign, you
know, to send a message to the other bad guys of who they’re
dealing with? To scare ‘em off? Like ‘Don’t mess with us or this is
what you’ll get’ kind of thing?"
    "I’m pretty sure BCA would’ve looked for that sort of sign,"
Gunner said, still dubious.
    "But there were a bunch of firefighters here before the police
arrived. Right?"
    "Yeah. I s’pose."
    "So it’s three in the morning. It’s dark. Even so, they probably
see the bodies outside. But they still have to fight the fire and make
sure there’s