Exigent Circumstances Ch. 01

"Daddy!" Tasha said laughingly. "Of course I will! And besides, I sleep by myself at Mom's condo when I'm not here, or at Aunt Laura's house when y'all are there and Michael is staying with Mom." For some reason, Tasha always called the Mountain Nest 'Aunt Laura's house'.

"Has Michael stayed with your mom while you've been there?" I asked.

"No, not since he called me 'Little Love'." Tasha replied. "Mom said he's not going to, either."

"Okay, then." I said. "You get some sleep."

"Daddy, can I ask you a question?" Tasha asked. When I nodded, she said "Why couldn't I go to Loo... Loseanna with Carole and Marie?"

I said "Well, Teresa's Aunt Clarissa invited Carole and Marie to visit. And they're older than you. I'm sure you'll get to visit Louisiana when you're a little older... or is there somewhere else you'd like to visit?"

Tasha's little face lit up as she said "I want to visit Washington, D.C. and see the Supreme Court. And maybe I'll get to meet Clarence Thomas!" SCOTUS Justice Clarence Thomas was Tasha's hero.

"Well, maybe we can." I said. "Okay, you get some sleep and dream great dreams, okay?"

"Okay. Nite Daddy." Tasha said as I kissed her on the forehead. As I stood up, I said "Okay, Bowser, get in your basket." Bowser, who had been sitting in the room, looked around. Not seeing Carole, he did not get into his basket, but eyed the door to the hall.

"Bowser, Carole is not here tonight." I said. "You take care of Tasha, okay?" I patted the edge of the basket. Bowser looked at the basket, then up at me. He made no move towards the basket.

"Do you want to go out, Bowser?" I asked. Bowser moved towards the door. I once more wished Tasha goodnight, then left the bedroom. Bowser began looking around, wondering where Carole was.

The boys were in the basement; Ross and Ian in their bedrooms, and Jim on the sofa in the man-cave, which pulled out and the backrest came down to form a bed. I checked on each of them and tucked them in while Bowser searched for Carole.

When Bowser and I got upstairs, I saw Molly in the greatroom, working on her laptop. Buddy was on the floor near her, supervising with his eyes closed. He raised his head and looked up at us as I went for the back door, Bowser right behind me.

"I'm going to take the dogs out and sit on the deck." I said. "Care to join me?"

"Sure." Molly said. "Want a drink?"

I thought about it, then said "No, I'll keep it light tonight. I get the feeling I should stay sober. But pour yourself something and come on out."

The dogs flew around the side of the house and down the trail to do their business as I sat down in my usual place on metal mesh loveseat. A moment later Molly came out with two drinks: a Crown & Coke for her, and a cold Disaronno Velvet Cream for me, which was amaretto flavored. I had her sit down in the loveseat with me, our hips pressed together.

Molly said "Laura going to be late again?"

I said "Looks like it. Callie is probably working with her. Cindy and Tim Jenkins are having a date night tonight, and are probably trying to make another baby right about now." Molly burst out laughing at that in her trademark fashion.

"So that's why Betsy is having a sleepover at her grandma's, as is Benjamin." Molly said, meaning her and Cindy's mother Maggie.

"Yep." I replied. "Soooo... anything new on the bodies found by the FBI?"

"Actually, yes." Molly replied. "I contacted the Nextdoor County County Attorney about filing a lawsuit against the FBI. Clark Webster... who I am losing respect for hour by hour, day by day... told our attorney he'd hand over the full, unredacted autopsy by next Wednesday if we hold off on filing the lawsuit or making a public stink about it. I told Webster, within Jack Muscone's hearing, that I'd better have that autopsy as well as any IDs they've made by 5:00pm Tuesday, or at 9:00am Wednesday we'd be filing the suit and I'd be doing interviews with the Press."

"How did he react?" I asked. "Did that seem to scare him?"

"No." Molly replied. "If anything, he looked resigned to his fate."

"There's Laura." I said, hearing my wife parking her Mercedes in the near-side garage. Buddy and Bowser came onto the deck in anticipation of her arrival, maybe hoping Carole was with her mother. Alas, it was not to be, as it was Callie Carrington that appeared with Laura. They came out onto the deck, and they both looked exhausted.

"Busy day?" I asked.

"More like 'frustrating'." my wife replied. "I was hoping to get some things wrapped up or in place, especially with Monday being a Holiday. But a lot of the people I needed to talk to apparently took today off to make a four-day weekend out of it---"

*BRING!* *BRING!* *BRING!*

It was my Police iPhone. Bowser began barking furiously until Callie and Molly petted him as they 'shushed' him.

"Troy." I said as I answered it. "Mm-hmm.... okay... okay... Okay, text me the address. I'll be there in a minute."

After disconnecting I said "Duty calls. A young man was found dead outside the door to an apartment. The stab wound to his chest was my Detectives's first clue that it's a crime. Care to go with me, Molly?..."

Part 3 - The Crime Scene

11:30pm, Friday, July 1st. Molly and I arrived at the perimeter of the crime scene at the Garden Spot Apartments, which were just west of University Avenue, and just west of the apartments where Nikko and Jessica's dog had been killed by a bear trap some years before. (Author's note: 'Going Rogue', Ch. 02.)

The apartment buildings were two stories tall and essentially eight-plexes, two in front on each floor and two behind them. The entry doors were on the outer ends. They were older apartments with brick walls and wrought-iron stairs to the porches with the doors. The iron, the stairs, the doors, and the front shutters were painted black, somewhat hiding the fact that the doors were metal.

The apartment in question was at the far left of the complex, on the second floor, on the front side. The area had been marked off with crime scene tape, and the entire parking lot was closed to non-official vehicles, though some residents had been allowed to come in and park. None were allowed to leave, however.

I parked my Police SUV a distance away, and Molly and I walked to the scene. And we ran into Patrolman Culver. "Hello, sir, ma'am." he said, his pen and clipboard ready to take our badge numbers.

"Commander Donald Troy, TCPD Badge number 1-6-4-0." I said.

"Thank you, sir." Culver said.

When he looked at Molly, she said "Molly Evans, Nextdoor County Police Chief, NCPD badge zero-zero-one."

"Thank you, ma'am." Culver said, making the notations. "Sir, our Police Chief has not arrived yet, but Captain Michaels has."

"Okay, thanks." I said. Molly and I went over to the scene. On the landing at the top of the stairs in front of the door lay the body of a young man. His red hair, darker red than mine, was styled in the very traditional combed-over way of basic nerd-dom. His button-down collared shirt was a red-and-white criss-cross pattern very much like what was found on many picnic tables. His pants were black and his shoes were light brown, which I'm told is standard fashion.

And the huge blood spot on the right side of his chest was a stab wound. There was blood on the collars of his shirt, as well.

I saw that Detective Roark Coleman and Detective Sergeant Julia Rodriguez were on the landing, taking photos and notes, and directing the CSIs in what they wanted as part of evidence collection. Crime Lab/CSI Supervisor Yolanda Grissom was also taking video with her special camera. Lieutenant Teddy Parker was on the sidewalk that led to the stairs to the landing from the parking lot, talking with Captain Claire Michaels.

As we came up to them, I heard Claire telling Teddy "I'm telling you, Lieutenant, we have to have a warrant to enter the premises. We don't know for sure if the victim is the resident."

"But ma'am," Parker replied, "Roark and Rodriguez have found evidence to show that--- oh, hello sir, ma'am." He came to attention as I spoke. Claire saw us over her shoulder, and quickly turned to face us and loosely came to attention."

"Stand at ease." I said. "You know the first question: who called it in?"

Teddy said "There were four calls to 9-1-1, sir. I'm the on-call MCD Lieutenant this weekend, so the Duty Desk called me. at 10:50pm. I arrived at 11:00. Rodriguez and Roark had just arrived, and the first Officers on the scene were securing it and forming a perimeter. The CSI team arrived at 11:05. Officers are going to the addresses of the 9-1-1 callers, and I don't yet have a report for you on them yet."

Teddy was borderline fidgety, so I asked "What has you on edge, Lieutenant? What's going on?"

"Sir," said Teddy, "Roark and Julia believe another person was at the scene and may have been kidnapped, and time is of the essence. I want to enter the apartment, but Captain Michaels is insisting upon getting a warrant first."

Claire said "Yes I am. We've got to have some kind of probable cause to enter the apartment, and the address on the deceased's drivers license up there is not that apartment's address, from what Julia said."

Teddy said "But we have other information that shows the possible kidnapping. I can tell you what my Detectives told me, but you might prefer they tell you directly."

"Good idea, let me go up and do that." I said. I scurried up the stairs, with Teddy and Claire following right behind me. Molly followed at a slower pace, looking around at everything from how we secured a scene to what the CSIs were doing.

"Whaddya got, Rodriguez? Mr. Roark?" I growled when I got to the landing. "You want to enter this apartment?"

"Yes sir." said Julia. "Roark, give them the story."

"In chronological order, please." I said.

"Yes sir." said Roark. "When we got here, this man was lying as you see him here, and he was already dead. His wallet was still in his back pants pocket, and his drivers license identified him as Mark Wayne Cooper, aged 24 years, 4 months. But the license has a Buford address on it." Buford was the seat of Coltrane County, directly to our south.

"Sir," said Teddy Parker, "that address is an apartment complex just over the county line in Coltrane County. Every address there is 'Buford', since they have just the one Post Office. That apartment; complex is one of several that have been built there in the past year or so. I know this because my wife Janice and I looked at a couple of them before deciding on our current place here in our County."

"Does Mark Wayne Cooper own a vehicle?" I asked.

"Yes sir." said Parker. "It's that ten-year-old Honda CR-V parked right out front. He bought it used two years ago, right after he graduated from State Tech."

"Okay." I said. "I perceive a set of keys on the floor in front of the door. His?"

"No sir." said Julia. "Roark had a good idea, and asked me to check the keys for fingerprints before he tried the door with it. So I did---"

"Wait." said Claire Michaels angrily. "You were going to use that key to enter the apartment... after I told you we had to get a warrant first, and that after establishing probable cause?"

"Ma'am, I said I was going to try the door with the key, not enter the apartment." Roark replied. "And after---"

"What's the difference?!" Claire all but yelled.

"There's a huge difference!" I fired back at Claire, rescuing Roark, then added to get him started again: "So you think time is of the essence?"

"Sir, ma'am, let me explain." said Julia with some authority in her voice. "I got a really good thumbprint from the key that looks like it'll work on that door. But no name came back at all from the local and State databases, and the FBI federal database hasn't replied yet. What we -do- know, is that it is -not- Mr. Cooper, here. I took his print for direct comparison, and they don't match at all. So it's not his key, and it gives us reason to believe that someone was with him when the attack occurred. Roark?"

Roark continued the narrative: "After we documented where the key was and all the fingerprint data, I tried to put the key in the lock. But it wouldn't go in. I shined my iPhone light in there, and y'all can look and see that something is in the lock, sabotaging it."

Julia said "I looked and saw it, too. It looks like a toothpick was broken off in there. We were going to get a CSI tech to get it out, when all of you began arriving."

"Is there a back door?" I asked.

"Yes sir, to a back landing with a fire escape." said Roark. "The ladder is up, so it does not appear to be accessible from the ground. And many such escape doors in older apartments like these have full bolts on the doors."

I turned and said "Parker, get someone over here to get that obstruction out of the lock. Have someone video that being done. When we're ready, come get me." But Teddy Parker was not there; he had gone back down the stairs and was talking to a couple of Uniformed Officers.

Julia radioed for a CSI tech to come get the toothpick out of the lock. A moment later, Teddy Parker came back. "Sir," he said to me, "the four people that called 9-1-1 did so because they heard a woman scream, followed by what sounded like a struggle. Two of them and two other people told our Officers they thought they saw a woman struggling with a man who was wearing all black, and maybe a black mask. They disappeared around the side of the building. There is an alleyway behind the buildings, for garbage trucks to drive on when collecting garbage."

"You got their names? Documentation?" I asked.

"Yes sir." said Parker. "And Officer-cam footage of the interviews. They're transmitting that to Intel now."

"Good." I said. "Okay, that's enough for me. Captain Michaels, call for the warrant. The probable cause is witness reports of a possible kidnapping, and we have got to identify the woman that was possibly kidnapped."

"Sir," Claire Michaels said, "can't we call the apartment owners or property managers and get the tenant's name that way?"

"Sure... after you call for that warrant." I said. "Go. Get moving." Claire got moving and went, though in a huff.

As the CSI techs worked on the door, Assistant Medical Examiner Kendell Ramsey arrived. "Glad you could make it, Dr. Ramsey." I said acerbically.

"Sorry, sir." Ramsey said. "The Duty Desk called Martha. She told them you did not want her at crime scenes at night, and whoever called said they didn't have anyone else's number. So she tried to call and text me, but I was at a party in Hillside, and my cellphone was in my car. I got here just as soon as I saw the texts and called the Duty Desk to get the address."

"Well, you're here now." I said. I turned to the CSI tech and said "How is it going?"

"Not good, sir." said the tech. "I don't have any pliers that are small enough to get in there, and I can't get a wire in there, either. If I try to force it, I'll push the toothpick further in."

I had an insight. Paramedic Kevin Randolph and EMT Kelton Mills had come to the scene earlier, but their services were found to be not needed. They were still out front by their EMS ambulance. I dialed Randolph on my Police iPhone and he answered.

"Kevin, have you got a really small pair of pliers or tweezers that might could get a toothpick out of a lock?" I asked.

"I just might, sir." Randolph said. A moment later, he came up to the landing with some really small tweezers.

As the CSI tech used them on the lock, Randolph said "You know that old board game 'Operation'? I'd always win because I used those tiny tweezers." We all laughed at that, then cheered as the CSI tech jiggled the toothpick out of the lock and dropped it into an evidence bag.

That was filmed, and I said to the camera "I am going to try this key in the lock. If it opens, we will enter under 'exigent circumstances' to clear the apartment, then learn the identity of the resident. There will be no further search of the premises until a search warrant arrives."

With that, I held the key in my latex-gloved hand and fit it to the lock. It went in and turned the bolt! I removed the key, pushed open the door, and two armed and armored uniformed Officers rushed inside.

"Clear!"... "Clear!"... "Clear!"... "Clear!" I heard. Then one of them came to the door and said "All clear, sir. No one here. No dogs or cats, either."

"Good job." I said as I rushed inside. To the left, the apartment's back wall, was the kitchen. It showed that the apartment was lived-in, but recently cleaned, as the trash can in the kitchen was near full, and I could smell the remnants of cleaning detergents. To the right, with a big window that overlooked the parking lot, was the living room, which had a sofa, a chair, and a television set against the wall by the door. It also showed signs of being 'picked up' and made straight.

Then came the hallway, which one could look straight down from the doorway. At the far end of the hallway was door with a full bolt on it. It led to the passage that went to the fire escape out back.

The washer and dryer were in a small room next to the kitchen. Across from it was a bathroom. Further down, on the left (back side) was a bedroom, simply furnished. Though windowless, the backside bedroom had it's own bathroom suite, making it the master. To the front side was another bedroom, which had a window. The front bedroom had a desk and a computer desk in it. That is where I went.

The desk was totally clean. As I quickly examined the desk drawers, I exclaimed "Does this person not keep any mail or records at all?"

"Her pronouns are 'she' and 'her'." said Roark as he came into the room. "All female clothes and shoes. Sergeant Rodriguez is getting her dress and shoe sizes for our APB. Any luck on an ID?"

"No." I said as I rummaged around the computer desk. None of the printed papers had any names on them; they were articles from the internet. And then...

"Oh, wait. Here's something." I said, taking a piece of paper taped to a cork-board on the wall amongst a bunch of Post-It notes. "Yay! a TCPD-issued traffic ticket. Just stuck up here. Running a red light, it says. How dare she?"

"Name, sir?" Julia said witheringly as she came into the room, not amused at my humor at this late hour.

I said "Okay, name: Nat K. Cole. We are looking for a gray Subaru with the car tag..." I read the car tag. Julia radioed to the uniformed Officers outside. The car was quickly found; it was parked next to the (much older) Honda.

"All right, we have an ID." I said. "Let's get out of here until the warrant comes."

We all went outside, where I saw Molly talking with Captain Michaels. We all walked further down and congregated around my Police SUV. Roark sat in the shotgun seat and began running the drivers license number on the ticket and the car tag on the computer.

"That's funny." he said. As everyone stopped chatting and looked at him, he said "The drivers license number does come back as 'Nat K. Cole'. Just the 'K' as a middle name." We all looked, seeing a young, almost geeky-looking girl with dark brown hair. "Maybe I should run 'Natalie' and see if that gives us any more."

"Sure, and then run 'Natasha'." I said.

Roark did so, but nothing came up with either name. He then said "The address on the license is the apartment complex's street address, and does not have an apartment number nor use the apartment number as the front of the address."

"And the car tag?" I asked.

Roark: "The car tag comes back as a Fleet vehicle owned by... Energy Dynamics. That should be on the citation, but it's not."

I said "Who was the Officer that issued that ticket?"

Roark said "Patrolman Ron McElwane."