Cry From The Grave (Chapter 43)

Cry From The Grave

Chapter 43

     Ballack had left the women on the roof to look for any shred of a clue, be it a thread from some hospital scrubs, a cigarette, or a stray paper cup that might bear fingerprints. He sent the car back up to the roof when he stopped Hull from speaking further.

     "There's one place I want to check, Zane," he said, "and then I'll let you know when the coast is clear."

     He sped through the narthex, nosing into the southwest hallway and peeking around the corner. No one there. He told Hull to call him back in two minutes. Upon hanging up, he texted Tori, then circled back to the opposite hallway. He found Father Giles' office open as the hospice had agreed to do. Making sure no one saw him, he quickly pulled open the door handle with considerable strain, nearly falling out of his chair with the effort, and then used his footplates to leverage the door wide open. Righting himself, he rushed into the alcove, reached up to flick on the light, and then shut the door behind him, turning the lock with great exertion.

     "All right," he said when Hull called him again. "Let's have those figures."

     "Okay, since the bullets from the scene--and the one in my body--were the Remington Golden Bullets with the hollow points, I did some checking with the names and checked registration records. It took me a while, and I had to sweet-talk the girl running the show on the other end of the line, but wouldn't you know it--turns out she knew me from our days at the academy. Being married, her name changed to..."

     "Zane, I hate to dash your interpersonal joy with this much gravitas, but I really need for you to get to the point."

     "Right. Gun ownership for three of the names on staff."

     "We already knew about Hibbler and Carter, so that means you dug up one more."

     "It's Isabel Andrews' husband."

     "Come again?"

     "He's the registered owner of a Smith & Wesson Sigma 9VE LaserLyte."

     "And that's a dead end."

     "Unless he or she borrowed something else. But you're right. The hollow point Golden Bullet won't mix with the Sigma 9VE."

     "Well, it was worth a chance."

     "Hold on, C.B. I didn't say the fat lady was singing just yet."

     "Say what?"

     "One other name. Tori scribbled the names Paul and Marta Trafford on there. I called Missy for the reminder and she said they were the ones who sued Hibbler and won the three million award."

     "And gave it back over a decade later in an inexplicable moment of altruistic insanity. What of them?"

     "Also gun owners."

     "How did you find that out?"

     "I asked Morgan..."

     "Morgan?"

     "The girl in registration."

     "Proceed."

     "The Traffords. Let me confirm. Lived in Hazelwood. Residence on Blackberry Meadow Lane."

     "Right so far."

     "Paul Trafford had both a Ruger SR22 and Ruger Mark II registered to his name."

     "Two guns? Was either in his possession at the time of his death?"

     "I looked up the police report on that. The sweep of their home after it burned found no weapons. Or any ammo. So, they'd either gotten rid of them..."

     "Or whoever torched them snatched them," Ballack growled.

     "And of course," Hull continued, "compatible ammunition with the two Rugers includes the hollow point Golden Bullets."

     "There you go."

     "It was the son, right?"

     Ballack's mind was elsewhere. "What?"

     "The Trafford's son. He was the one who died. The reason for the lawsuit against Hibbler, correct?"

      "Sorry. Yeah, that's the one. He got creamed by a speeding car wandering into the Tower Grove late-night speed demon alley."

     "Was he their only child? Missy didn't say."

     "Older sister named Jennifer. She went to college, married, then drifted off the post-divorce radar, but..."

     "But what?"

     Ballack smiled as he heard footsteps approaching from the narthex. "Nothing. I just realized where I'll get my answer."

     "About what? Is it something I can do?"

     Ballack thought hard. An online search would be more efficient, but potentially unreliable. Ballack needed to go straight to the source. Plus, Hull needed his rest and had done plenty.

     "No. Not now."

     "Just as well, anyway. The therapist is here."

     "I'll let you know what we discover. And Zane?"

     "Yeah?"

     "Thanks. We wouldn't be able to take the next step without you."

     "Saddle up and ride," Hull signed off as Ballack heard three hard raps from the outside of the door.

     "Cam, are you in there?" Tori's voice.

     He undid the lock, extinguishing the light as Tori opened the door with Crabolli behind her.

     "What are you doing in a dead priest's study?" asked Crabolli.

     But Ballack ignored the question and pointed toward the narthex as he shot past them at a rapid speed.

     "Come on, ladies," he summoned them.

     "Where?" Tori was incredulous at his enigmatic behavior. He stopped and whirled around, pushing his left palm down to signal for quiet.

     "Clayton," he whispered. "Let's move."