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Vance hurried inside.
“Access is a pull-down ladder in the hall,” Evers said.
Vance hated spiders, and this was Louisiana, but he wanted answers.
“Is there a light?”
“Yes, sir,” Evers said. “Langdon is still up there. Watch your head. It has a floor, but it’s too low to stand up in.”
Vance grabbed on to the handrails and started climbing, emerging into the shallow rafters. He leaned over as he walked to where Langdon was kneeling.
“What’ve we got?” Vance asked.
Langdon looked up and grinned.
“We got ourselves a shooter. The image is a little blurry, but the lab techs should be able to clean it up some.”
“I want enough to run through facial recognition,” Vance said.
“Is this the only security camera up here?” Vance asked.
“Yes, sir,” Langdon said.
“Then we got lucky,” Vance said. “Leave everything as is. The lab will go through the footage.”
They were climbing down from the attic when they heard a shout from outside.
“I think the ME is here,” Evers said.
Within an hour the team from the crime lab arrived. A couple of them went into the woods to where the shooter stood, photographed the scene and the footprints, then collected the evidence, while other members were inside, collecting the camera from the attic and carrying out the computer. The car was towed for processing.
The ME had put the time of death sometime yesterday, but the security footage would likely verify that. They bagged Raver’s body, loaded it into a van and headed for their morgue.
“Shut up the house and tape up the doors,” Vance said.
“You can’t see the house from the road, so do you want crime scene tape at the road, as well?” Evers asked.
“Yes. And let’s get the team and head up the road to the church.”
“Shit. I forgot all about that,” Langdon said.
Vance shrugged. “It’s doubtful he’d put incriminating evidence there, but we have the search warrant. We need to get into his office, and if necessary, confiscate computers there, too. Langdon, you drive. I need to make a phone call as we go.”
As Agent Langdon slid behind the wheel, Vance took the passenger seat and made a call to Hank Raines.
Hank was in jeans and a sweatshirt, grilling burgers on his patio. He could hear his wife arguing with one of the kids, and then sudden silence. He grinned. She could shut down an argument as fast as any woman he’d ever known. She was little, but mighty. She was also the love of his life, and the hub of their family.
He raised the grill lid to turn the burgers, and as he did a brief gust of wind blew smoke in his eyes. He turned to the side, blinking to clear his vision, and as he did his phone rang.
When he saw it was Billy Vance, he answered quickly.
“Hey, Billy. How did it go?” Hank asked.
“Well, Raver is dead. Someone took him out yesterday, before we ever got there. We may have some footage from a security camera to point us to the shooter, but it was a hit, for sure. One shot right between the eyes from fifty yards. I’m guessing his business partners got nervous.”
“Dammit,” Hank said and began flipping burgers as he talked. “So do you have enough for an arrest warrant on Raver’s moneyman?”
“Preston Davis? Yes. That went to the ATF. Wyrick gave us more than enough. I only know the woman by reputation, but she’s freaking amazing. Tell her if she ever wants a job, she’s got one with us,” Vance said.