Night Moves by DJ Steele

Author:DJ Steele [Steele, DJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Switchback Press

Chapter Thirty

Shockley and Hauser hurried toward the man spread in a supine position on the road next to a silver Toyota Corolla. A dark pool of blood congealed on the pavement next to the body.

Two responding uniformed patrolmen standing next to the victim raised hands to protest their presence. Shockley and Hauser held up their badges and identified themselves.

The older uniform he knew. The tall middle-aged African American’s shirt revealed the man had packed on a few more pounds since last time he saw him. The man gnawing a toothpick said, "Sorry Detective, didn’t recognize you at first. By the time we got here, the vic was on the ground not moving. I checked for a pulse. DRT. Dead Right There. One in the gut, another right between the eyes." The younger uniform looked like he was just a few months out of the academy. His clothes pressed and shoes shiny. The rookie’s pale-skinned face was sprinkled with freckles and looked eager to please.

Shockley snapped on a pair of latex gloves, stepped next to the body and squatted, arms resting on his thighs. He studied the victim and noted the man had clutched his stomach when he was shot. Both hands covered in his own blood. His lifeless eyes wide open, back of his head missing. Gone. The second shot killed him instantly. He couldn’t help but notice the victim was about his age. Early to mid-thirties.

Resting on his heels, Shockley directed his attention to both patrolmen. "Were you aware of any persons or vehicles leaving the crime scene?"

"No sir," said Officer Carlass.

"Witnesses?"

"Light traffic. Nobody stopped. No witnesses observed and none have come forward. Our presence in this part of town is never welcomed."

"Who called it in?"

"Not sure."

"I’ll check with dispatch," offered the rookie.

"Either of you touch the vehicle?"

Carlass shook his head before sarcastically saying, "Followed protocol. Been doing this a lot longer than you, detective."

"Then you’re used to being asked these questions." Shockley caught Carlass roll his eyes at the rookie.

He stood and scanned the surrounding area thoroughly. A vacant commercial lot littered with piles of discarded tires on one side and across the street run down homes and trailers with overgrown yards littered with cars, shopping carts and other junk.

The police were often summoned to this area for prostitution, drug dealing, overdoses, and gun possession. Last week they arrested three men, one was seventy-five years old for running a chop shop down the street. The group had stolen a dozen cars and disassembled them for the purpose of selling parts.

"Hauser."

Hauser had his memo pad out taking notes. He was inspecting the inside of the dead man’s car. "Yeah?"

"Get me a witness. Somebody somewhere saw or heard something."

"Gotcha." Hauser took off at a clip toward a row of houses on the other side of the street.

"You." The young uniform gave Shockley his full attention. "Tape off this crime scene, have all traffic diverted from the area. I don’t want a circus when the media arrives."

"Will do, detective. Sir." The young uniform hurried toward his patrol car.

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