Page 19 of Special Agent Raven
“Thanks, could use the help.” Cane turned to Steve. “You okay carrying on with your own boat from here?”
“Sure am. I want to get to my brother-in-law’s place where I dropped Aggie off earlier. We’re planning on picking up his sons so they can go help in the search and rescue the town’s organizing. My old bones have about had it for now but nothing wrong with this boat. They don’t have one of their own, so I promised them they could use this old gal.”
“I’m sure the folks will be grateful for all the help they can get.” Cane waved as Steve turned his vessel away and headed back out on open water. Glad to see that the wild rain hadlessened and the winds had died down, he supposed the small motorboat would make better time. Both he and Raven watched to make sure Steve safely maneuvered past a big tree limb before gathering their own gear and climbing on to land.
Minutes later, clambering over the bank and approaching the sedan where it sat lopsided, half in and half out of the water, he hesitated. “I know that tree has stopped the car but I’m thinking we should still anchor the vehicle to the one behind, so it won’t get carried away in case the winds pick up again. What do you think?”
“I agree. Once we’re finished with the investigation, I’ll get the rope from the boat.”
Cane put on his plastic gloves, same as Raven, and both took care in opening the vehicle’s front door. Sure enough, there was the victim, just as Steve had described. The clean-shaven man appeared to be young and from his position, it was hard to tell if he’d been the driver or not. One foot looked to be angled under the steering wheel, but the other seemed to be more on the passenger side. His head rested on the edge of the driver’s seat, thrown back as if the thrust of the bullet had sent it there.
As Steve had noticed and commented on, blood looked to be more in the back seat than in the front. Which came as a surprise since the head wound appeared clean, as if the bullet hadn’t exited but instead lodged in the skull or had been stopped by the soft tissue.
“Do you see what I do?” Raven appeared to be examining their corpse as closely as himself.
“If you mean the bullet is still lodged in his head, then yes. By his coloring, and stage of rigor mortis, I’d say he’s been dead no more than twenty-four hours, possibly a little longer.”
“Agreed. Appears as if he faced his killer at the passenger side window.”
“Yes. But I’m curious.”
“Why there’s so much blood in the back?”
“Exactly.” Cane had turned his focus on the rear seat, only to find the scene very disturbing. “There’s the teddy bear.”
“Yeah, looks to me like a baby or toddler toy.”
“No sign of a child’s car seat.”
Raven leaned in. “I see some marks against the front headrest where one might have been rubbing against it. And there’re scrapes on the material here. Could be from the same thing.”
“Which tells us only that a smaller person has been in this car at one time or another.”
“Maybe, but why would one leave their teddy? Look, there’s footmarks on the material of the seat backs, kind of like a struggle took place.”
Cane shone his light there so he could see more clearly. “You’re right.” He sighed, his voice raw. “Christ, if only this car could talk.” He flashed the light carefully around the floor, under the seats, hoping to find either a weapon or other evidence. Meanwhile, Raven opened the glove compartment and pulled out scads of papers. She held them up and read out loud, “Owner seems to be one Val Forest, thirty-three years old. Bought the car a year ago.”
Cane gestured with his hand, and she passed him the documents. “Well, it’s safe to say it isn’t him. He might be in his mid thirties, but more than likely older.”
“I’m thinking Val is a woman’s name.”
“Maybe. Could be either.”
Raven nodded. “Agreed. See the tattoos on his arms, there’s one with a name.” She shone her light closer and made out the letters. “Lily. It says Lilly. That could help us identify him.”
“Yeah, that and his vest full of insignias and colors. I don’t want to mess with the scene, but I might be able to reach his pocket without disturbing anything.” Cane leaned inside andrifled through the victim’s pants to come up with a wallet. “Jeffrey Martin. Forty years old. Lives in Houston.”
“Good. We can start by contacting the city police and see what they come up with, maybe check if he’s involved in any gang affiliations there.”
Cane brought out his phone and took photos of everything, as did Raven.
When he’d finished, he saw the dispirited look she didn’t try to hide. “You okay, Raven?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just such a lonely and horrible way to die.”
“Only consolation might be, he died instantly.” He saw her nod before asking, “You up to checking out the area… see if there’s any trace evidence nearby, or with any luck, the gun used in the shooting.”
“Sure. I doubt if there’s a chance of us disturbing the scene since the storm would have already compromised anything useful.”