Roan looked at him when everyone, except the MEs handling the body, was out of sight, then they looked at each other.
“This was a hit,” Roan stated.
“Yeah.” He put on his Ray-Bans and surveilled the area. “My full attention,” he said. “Whoever did this may not have known they wanted it, but they have it now.”
“Which road are we heading down?” she asked tightly. She’d walk whichever path he needed to despite how much discomfort it caused her. Roan’s father being Black Cherokee and hermother being Black Episcopalian put her at war with herself when it came to matters of the unseen.
“Good old-fashioned investigation,” he assured. Her relief was palpable.
“Until it ain’t of course,” he said grimly, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
“You know that taunting shit, that’s Lauren’s influence.” She frowned. “Fight it, League. Don’t let her possess you.”
“If she’s gotten inside me, I promise I’ve gotten inside her too.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” she said, upper lip curled in distaste. “All this sharing, it ain’t like you. I need the man whose emotions reside twenty thousand leagues under the sea. Bringhimback. Because all that...ya’ll nasty.”
If Lauren stayed in Shrouded Lake for too long, that version of him might be changed forever, because like turbulent waters, she had a way of making hidden things surface.
They walked across the road to where the vehicle had lain in wait for the transport bus.
“What do you think?” he asked Roan, who kneeled and took more photos.
“Tires are big. Maybe we’re looking at thirty-eight-inch. It had to have been fitted with some kind of”—she steepled her fingers—“almost triangular grill guard.”
They walked up the hill to the point where the tread stopped; where the tire prints were a little deeper. The driver had backed up to this point to get enough speed and momentum to push the bus over the edge.
Santiago stayed closer to the trail, walking higher than where the truck had been, and Roan explored the forest around it. He found the butt end of a blunt, videoed and bagged it.
“We said a hit,” he said loud enough for Roan to hear. “Maybe it didn’t start out that way. Could’ve started out as abreakout, and maybe Eddy was going to plead out or cut a deal instead of life on the run?”
“Maybe he was gonna give the DEA bigger fish to fry,” she added. “Come over here and look this way.” He walked toward her. “The truck would’ve been higher on the ground and from here they could see the bus coming, gauge it’s speed, and timed right,bam.”
There were shoe tracks that she photographed, and she pulled a blue fiber off a bush and bagged it.
“We get the tracks plastered and analyzed; rule out our people…”
“You have a suspect? Lewellen was Andy’s friend. Andy has a truck with front gear.”
“So do a lot of trucks up here, League.”
“I know, and we’ll check out every one of them. We’ll see what evidence Meadow Glen’s department gets from the exterior of the bus after it’s examined in their garage.” They had better tech than Shrouded Lake.
Roan looked down the dirt path. “By coming in from the side, the front and rear cameras won’t likely have captured the vehicle, but I’ll check to be sure. You think they knew about the cameras?”
Santiago had motor pool to upgrade the cameras two months ago. The new ones were well hidden and only a handful of personnel knew about their replacement. The old interior cameras were still there, but no longer active.
Roan whistled. “Brings us back around to your original dilemma?—”
“Fuck.”
The issue of who the mayor had on the inside of the department was a nuisance before, but if that person or those people were actively participating in crime to abet the mayor’s machinations….
“Anderson. That man is always in the mix in some way.”
He recalled Lauren talking about the revitalization program being fiscally deceptive. Would he be willing to kill over these deceptions?
Roan side-eyed him.
