Chapter 3
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Jim arrived in Carlos' lab a short while later. "Whatcha got?"
"Time of death is between 1 and 3 AM," Carlos replied, looking up from the autopsy table. "9 mm bullet pierced her head just above her left temple and exited out the back, taking a chunk of skull with it. Angle of the wound indicates that the shooter was about six to eight inches taller than her. She's 5 foot 4 inches tall, so the shooter was probably just over six foot tall. There were no defensive wounds, so she probably didn't know what was happening until it was too late, but there was some bruising on her left upper arm. There was some tissue under her nails, but I won't have those results back until at least tomorrow morning."
"Did Daniel get anything from the video?"
"Yes, I did," Daniel replied as he came into the room. He went over to Carlos' computer and tapped the keys for a moment before stepping back. On screen was an image of Kriege walking out of the bar with a tall, dark-haired man who had a firm grip on her left arm.
Jim leaned in and asked, "Can you play it forward?"
Daniel hit another button and the video began to play. There was no sound, but the bar had installed high definition color cameras, so everything was pretty clear. They watched as the guy manhandled Kriege out the door and up the alley towards the beach. It was obvious that she didn't want to go with him by the way she was hitting and kicking at him. Unfortunately, due to her size, she didn't have much of an impact on him.
They continued to watch until the couple was out of sight. Daniel then leaned back over the keyboard and started up a second video. "Once Dr. Sanchez told me what time to look for, it was pretty easy to find her on the tapes. This is them coming past the front door and out onto the pier."
It took about thirty seconds for the arguing couple to get past the second camera and out of view. Daniel, once again, hit a few keys and pulled up the last of the footage. They saw the man finally release the woman, who tried to get away, but he didn't let her get far. The two argued heatedly for a couple of minutes before she hit him in the gut with her fists and when he stepped back in surprise, she darted down the stairs and out onto the sand. The last image they had was of the man running after her.
"Were you able to get any identifying stills of the guy?" Jim asked, still staring at the computer screen.
"Yeah, one." Daniel clicked another couple of keys and pulled up a picture that showed part of the man's face and right side. It wasn't enough to run through facial recognition software, but it might be enough to match up with Kriege's associates and make an ID that way.
"Can you send it to my Blackberry?" Jim asked. Moments later he was reviewing the image on the smaller screen. "What do we know about Kriege?"
Daniel recited the basics, "Age 32. Originally from Tallahassee, but recently moved to Palm Glades. She works for a telecom company as a sales rep. Married, no children."
"What about her husband?"
"Jonathan Whistler. Age 36. Active duty National Guard deployed to Iraq. According to the Guard, he's been shipped State-side and stationed in St. Augustine." At this point, Daniel looked up from the screen. "Though it's not yet official, the guy I talked to didn't know where Whistler was. He was scheduled to report to duty at 8 this morning, but hasn't shown up. They haven't classified him AWOL, yet, but expect to soon. They also told me that Whistler has quite a bad reputation."
"What kind?" Carlos asked.
"He's a mean drunk. He's been put in hack at least twice in the last year, both times overseas. The last time was over a woman."
Jim's ears perked up. "What happened?"
"It was reported that Whistler hit an officer. He claimed the officer was hitting on one of the enlisted women and he stepped into defend her. The official report has it the other way around."
Jim nodded and, smiling wryly, said, "Road trip?"
..
Manus quashed the idea of a road trip to St. Augustine, but that didn't stop Jim and Carlos from escaping the station for elsewhere. They rode in silence to Kriege's apartment, hoping to find some information on her erstwhile husband and the man she was with at the bar.
They got the manager to let them in, then put on gloves before starting their investigation in the living room. Carlos pointed to the pictures on the mantle, "Husband?"
Jim peered at the photo and said, "Red head. Probably the boyfriend from the bar."
Carlos handed the frame to Jim, who slid the back off, hoping to see names scrawled across the back. He was partially right. "Steven. No last name." He replaced the backing and put it into an evidence bag. They continued to snoop through Kriege's belongings. They were in the bedroom looking through her dresser when they heard a key turn in the front door.
As Jim drew his gun and motioned for Carlos to stay in the bedroom, Carlos hissed, "If I get shot, you're going to have to be the one to tell Maris." Jim threw a quick grin over his shoulder before stepping into the hallway just as the door opened.
He waited until the red haired man closed the door before saying loudly, "Don't move. Police." The man jumped and spun at the same time, letting out a yelp in surprise. Seeing Jim holding a gun, pointed directly at him, he carefully put his hands up and tried to hold them there without trembling.
"What are you doing here?" Jim asked, motioning for him to enter the living room.
The man waved his hands a bit asking, "C… can I put them down?" After Jim nodded, he relaxed slightly, wiping his hands on his pant legs. "I, I live here," he stuttered.
"Who are you?" Carlos asked from behind, making him jump.
"Ack!" he yelped again. Taking a deep breath he tried to answer the questions before him. "My name's Steve Carlton. I live here." Noting that Jim had put his gun away, he asked, "Why are you here and what's with the gun?"
"Does Kriege Whistler live here?" Jim asked, ignoring the questions.
"Yes."
"Why didn't the manager know you lived here?"
"Well, um," Steve started. "It's complicated."
Jim grimaced as another reminder of Callie came at him. "Complicated how?"
Steve cleared his throat and looked around the apartment. "Well, Kriege was married and, well, it wasn't to me."
"Did her husband know that you were living with her?"
"If you'd asked me that two days ago, I would have said no. But he knows now." Steve sighed heavily and sank into the couch.
"Why's that?" Jim asked.
"He was deployed in Iraq for two tours; was part of the last wave of Americans to leave the country and come home."
"So, you decided to move into another man's life and not even thank him for it," Jim snarked.
"That's not how it was," Steve retorted. "Jon wasn't around, left Kriege alone. He called her periodically, but she was left to run the home and take care of things without help or guidance from him. He might as well have been in prison for all the attention he paid to her."
Carlos shot Jim a look, gauging how much of what Steve said was hitting close to home. He saw his friend's face harden at the similarities between the two relationships, but didn't outwardly react. As long as Jim wasn't allowing his own situation to color his view of the case, Carlos decided to let him keep going without interference.
"When did he find out about you?" Jim asked sharply.
"Two days ago." Steve opened his hands in supplication, as if asking God for it to never have happened. Suddenly Steve realized he still didn't have an answer to his question. "Hey! You never said why you were here."
Jim was blunt, "She's dead. Bullet to the head." He watched the other man's reaction with interest. He wasn't disappointed.
"That bastard. He did it, didn't he?" he shouted, leaping to his feet and began pacing the length of the room. "That son of a bitch! He did it, he really did it."
When Steve took a breath, Jim interjected, "Who did it? Who is he? What did he do?"
Steve whirled around, eyes glaring and anger rolling off him in waves. "He is her bloody bastard of a husband. She filed for divorce a few months ago, had him served overseas. She'd been waiting for him to come home before she did it, but she didn't want to wait any longer. He was still acting as if they were in love, when all she wanted to do was get away from him."
Feeling like this case might give him some insight into his own situation, he asked, "I take it didn't go as planned."
"No. After he got the paperwork, he called her even more often. Tried to talk to her about reconciling or at least waiting until he got home before proceeding. The last time she talked to him she told him she wasn't waiting anymore."
"What was his reaction?"
"He yelled at her. Accused her of cheating on him. The typical BS."
"But wasn't she?" Jim asked, with more sensitivity than he was usually known for.
Steve sighed and nodded. "Yeah, you could say that. But, it wasn't like we were just running around having hot monkey sex. We love, damn it, loved, each other." Steve dropped his head into his hands, grinding his palms into his eyes to keep the tears from flowing.
"So what happened two days ago?"
Steve went into the kitchen and got a glass of water, drinking it down before answering. "Kriege wasn't home, I was expecting her call, so I answered the phone. It was Jon."
"Uh-oh," Carlos chimed in.
"Yeah, pretty much. He exploded, said I was a dead man. Said he'd be back in Florida tomorrow … yesterday … and was coming to get me and the whore I was sleeping with. I hung up. He tried to call again, but I let the answering machine pick it up."
"Did he leave a message?"
"Yes, but when Kriege heard it, she deleted it."
"Okay. Now what happened last night?"
Steve shook his head as if wanting to deny anything bad had happened, then said, "Jon knew Kriege's address, so we wanted to be out of here in case he showed up. We went out to dinner and a movie, then over to Dizzy's because it's where we first met. We were, obviously, anxious about going home, so we were debating about getting a hotel room for the night when he showed up."
Steve swallowed hard, trying hard not to let his voice break as he continued. "He came in yelling and calling her names. I tried to get between them, but he just backhanded me. I'm not a small guy," he defended, "but when someone of my stature goes up against a Guard trained brute, I'm going to lose. While I was trying to get my feet back under me, he grabbed Kriege and left. I ran out the front door, but couldn't see them anywhere, so I went back in to grab her purse and cell. I hoped if I could get his phone to ring, I'd be able to find them. Unfortunately, that didn't happen."
Carlos noticed that Jim was staring out the window in an apparent daze and was about to say something when Jim blurted out, "Sorry, don't believe you. I'm taking you in." He pulled his cuffs out of his back pocket and said, "Let's go."
Carlos stared at him in amazement, wanting to say something, but not sure what, given the circumstances. Instead he trailed after the other two men and locked the door before leaving the former love nest of their vic and the man now in Jim's custody.