stepped on a rattler and we ended up calling in the rescue squad. Didn’t stop the others from trying, though.”
“How’s the snake?” Harry asked.
Morgan laughed. “Probably died.”
Harry made his way to the car and headed up to the education center to reconnect with Vicky. He found her in an office with the elderly bird watcher who had discovered the body and the park ranger who had been first on the scene. He introduced himself, thanked them for their help, and then took Vicky out into the hall.
“Anything worthwhile?” he asked.
“I interviewed everybody who was working here today and no one remembers seeing anything unusual,” Vicky began. “The woman who found the body isn’t much help either. All she can remember is seeing the leg sticking out from behind the cypress stump. She may remember something later when she calms down, though right now she’s so shaken she can hardly remember her own name. But the park ranger remembered something interesting.”
“How so?”
“Three or four days ago he noticed that somebody else had driven into the same area, and went all the way back to where the body was found. It’s rained a lot since then, so those tracks are probably gone. But he said it’s really unusual to have somebody drive in on one of the trails. There are signs letting people know they are off limits to vehicles, and getting caught on one gets you a citation. It’s also pretty easy to go too far and get stuck. He checked it out when he saw those earlier tracks, but whoever had driven in there had already left.”
“So it could have been the perp scouting the area,” Harry said.
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
Harry paused to consider what Vicky had said. “We need a list of everyone who’s worked here in the past year,” he said at length. “Paid employees, volunteers, everybody. It could have been somebody who knew the patrol routine, knew when he could drive in with the least chance of being seen.”
“And then did a test run to be sure,” Vicky said.
Harry nodded, then paused again. “Damn, I wish we had that second set of tracks to compare to the ones there now.”
“It would be nice,” Vicky said.
“We better tell the CSI techs to look for old tracks, just in case there are traces still there,” Harry said. “Even a partial would help. Then we could be reasonably sure our perp was here earlier getting the lay of the land. And that would increase the chances that somebody saw him.”
“We can stop and talk to them on the way out of here,” Vicky said. “Speaking of which, where do we go from here? Darlene’s home?”
“You got it. We search her place, and we talk to her neighbors; start putting together a list of her friends, relatives, lovers, anybody we can find out about. Then I want to check out that empty book of matches we found on the trail.”
You mean the bar in Tampa?”
Harry nodded.
“The topless bar in Tampa?”
Harry gave a small shrug and fought to hold a deadpan expression. “Sorry, but a good detective has to go where the evidence leads him.”
“Yeah,” Vicky said, her voice turning mildly sarcastic. “And sometimes it’s even fun.” She gave him a long look. “This time it will be more fun for you than for me.”
C HAPTER T HREE
H arry knew from newspaper accounts of her trial that Darlene Beckett lived in Tampa, but since no ID was found on her body he called in and asked for a computer check of the sex offender’s registry to get a current home address. A computer technician radioed back five minutes later, and as the information came through the radio’s speaker, Vicky noticed Harry’s hands visibly tighten on the steering wheel. She resisted her natural curiosity and just stored the information away.
The place that Darlene Beckett had called home turned out to be a slightly rundown garden apartment complex in northern Tampa, a mixed neighborhood both racially and economically with a smattering of college students
“How’s the snake?” Harry asked.
Morgan laughed. “Probably died.”
Harry made his way to the car and headed up to the education center to reconnect with Vicky. He found her in an office with the elderly bird watcher who had discovered the body and the park ranger who had been first on the scene. He introduced himself, thanked them for their help, and then took Vicky out into the hall.
“Anything worthwhile?” he asked.
“I interviewed everybody who was working here today and no one remembers seeing anything unusual,” Vicky began. “The woman who found the body isn’t much help either. All she can remember is seeing the leg sticking out from behind the cypress stump. She may remember something later when she calms down, though right now she’s so shaken she can hardly remember her own name. But the park ranger remembered something interesting.”
“How so?”
“Three or four days ago he noticed that somebody else had driven into the same area, and went all the way back to where the body was found. It’s rained a lot since then, so those tracks are probably gone. But he said it’s really unusual to have somebody drive in on one of the trails. There are signs letting people know they are off limits to vehicles, and getting caught on one gets you a citation. It’s also pretty easy to go too far and get stuck. He checked it out when he saw those earlier tracks, but whoever had driven in there had already left.”
“So it could have been the perp scouting the area,” Harry said.
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
Harry paused to consider what Vicky had said. “We need a list of everyone who’s worked here in the past year,” he said at length. “Paid employees, volunteers, everybody. It could have been somebody who knew the patrol routine, knew when he could drive in with the least chance of being seen.”
“And then did a test run to be sure,” Vicky said.
Harry nodded, then paused again. “Damn, I wish we had that second set of tracks to compare to the ones there now.”
“It would be nice,” Vicky said.
“We better tell the CSI techs to look for old tracks, just in case there are traces still there,” Harry said. “Even a partial would help. Then we could be reasonably sure our perp was here earlier getting the lay of the land. And that would increase the chances that somebody saw him.”
“We can stop and talk to them on the way out of here,” Vicky said. “Speaking of which, where do we go from here? Darlene’s home?”
“You got it. We search her place, and we talk to her neighbors; start putting together a list of her friends, relatives, lovers, anybody we can find out about. Then I want to check out that empty book of matches we found on the trail.”
You mean the bar in Tampa?”
Harry nodded.
“The topless bar in Tampa?”
Harry gave a small shrug and fought to hold a deadpan expression. “Sorry, but a good detective has to go where the evidence leads him.”
“Yeah,” Vicky said, her voice turning mildly sarcastic. “And sometimes it’s even fun.” She gave him a long look. “This time it will be more fun for you than for me.”
C HAPTER T HREE
H arry knew from newspaper accounts of her trial that Darlene Beckett lived in Tampa, but since no ID was found on her body he called in and asked for a computer check of the sex offender’s registry to get a current home address. A computer technician radioed back five minutes later, and as the information came through the radio’s speaker, Vicky noticed Harry’s hands visibly tighten on the steering wheel. She resisted her natural curiosity and just stored the information away.
The place that Darlene Beckett had called home turned out to be a slightly rundown garden apartment complex in northern Tampa, a mixed neighborhood both racially and economically with a smattering of college students
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