Free Dead Guilty by Beverly Connor Page B

woods.’’
She looked around the bedroom, the single bed with
its sheets pulled away, the chest of drawers open with
its contents spilled out over the sides and onto the
floor. A bloody hand weight lay in the middle of the
bed.
‘‘We need to contact the other man who was with
him.’’
Chief Garnett moved to the living room and di
rected his attention to the woman sobbing on the
couch.
‘‘Miss... Beck, Kacie Beck?’’
She pushed her blond hair out of her face and
rubbed her red-rimmed eyes with the tips of her
fingers.
‘‘Miss Beck,’’ said Garnett, ‘‘do you know . . .’’ He
turned to Diane.
‘‘Steven Mayberry,’’ supplied Diane.
‘‘Steve?... Yes.’’
‘‘Where does he live?’’
‘‘Over on Udell. He has a trailer over there.’’ ‘‘Do you have his telephone number?’’
‘‘Telephone number? No . . . Chris knows it.’’ She
started sobbing again.
Garnett pressed a rapid-dial number on his cell
phone. ‘‘Steven Mayberry, did you say?’’
Diane nodded. She motioned to Whit as Garnett
called for the address.
‘‘We need to get Miss Beck out of the crime scene.
She can sit in my car until Garnett questions her. I’ll
call my team to start working this. . . . And I’ll need
a warrant.’’
‘‘Garnett has one coming.’’ Whit pushed his straight
black hair from his forehead as he glanced back at
the bedroom. ‘‘You think this is connected with your
other case?’’
‘‘I don’t know. If not, it’s an amazing coincidence.’’ Whit was escorting Kacie out of the house when
Garnett got off the phone.
‘‘Got an address. I called for backup to meet us
there.’’
Outside, Diane slipped off the shoe covers and
rang David.
‘‘Yeah?’’
David obviously had been asleep, as Diane wished
she was.
‘‘David, Diane. I need you again tonight.’’ ‘‘Gee, Diane, if I’d known you’re this demanding,
I’d have gotten myself a woman with less energy.
What’s up?’’
Diane explained, and he was quiet for a moment. ‘‘Can’t be a coincidence.’’
‘‘I’ll call Jin. You’ll have to wait for a warrant be
fore you can go in.’’
‘‘Sure.’’
A young woman answered Jin’s phone. ‘‘Just a
minute.’’
Her voice sounded sleepy, and Diane heard the rus
tling of covers as she waited for Jin to get on the
phone.
‘‘Yo?’’
‘‘Jin, this is Diane. We have another crime scene. I
need you and David to work it tonight.’’ She gave him
the address. ‘‘I’m sorry to do this to you.’’
‘‘No problem.’’ Jin sounded wide awake. Diane turned to the chief. ‘‘I’d like to ride out to
the Mayberry house.’’
He gave her a curt nod, and she climbed into his
Lexus and buckled herself in.
‘‘These murders . . .’’ Garnett paused a moment.
‘‘It’s going to be a test of our new crime scene unit.
I don’t need to tell you how important it is to get
it right.’’
Several ways of answering him flitted through Diane’s
mind. Sarcastic was right up front, considering that it
was he and the mayor who had virtually blackmailed
her into housing the new crime lab and heading it up.
But when she opened her mouth, it was her good friend
Gregory’s wisdom that tempered her tongue. ‘‘It’s a good unit with good people. We’ll find all
the evidence that’s there to find.’’
That seemed to satisfy him. He said nothing for the
remainder of the trip. Instead, he tapped the steering
wheel with his fingers as he drove. Diane was glad it
wasn’t a long ride.
As they rounded a corner and turned into a drive
leading to the trailer park, Diane saw a police car
parked out front. The single trailer was lit, revealing
silhouettes of two uniformed officers moving through
the length of it.
As Diane and the sheriff stepped out of the car, the
two uniforms emerged. One was Janice Warrick. Good thing her eyes aren’t phasers, thought Diane as
they came face-to-face. Warrick held her chin high and
jaw clenched and addressed the