A Long Road to Redemption

He got the call just before six that morning. He didn’t care about the time since he was up early anyway. Roger Taylor was never really one to sleep in. Even in his college days, he was usually up before anyone else he knew. What bothered him was that a body was found on a construction site right outside of Warrenton, still barely within the city’s jurisdiction but almost crossing into the county sheriff’s jurisdiction. Maybe the killer thought that dumping a body in a competing jurisdiction would slow down the investigation. He dismissed the thought as being too much planning for most killers looking for a place to dump a body in a hurry. Taylor poured the rest of his coffee into a thermos, grabbed his light jacket, and headed out the door of his small one-bedroom apartment.

It didn’t take him long to arrive since the morning rush wasn’t close to starting. The uniformed officers had just finished taping up the scene as he arrived. Officer Barnes, a female officer with dirty blond hair and a nose that Taylor thought belonged on another face, gave him a look of disapproval as he lifted the tape she had taken time to so precisely place to close off the scene. Barnes was a good officer, maybe attractive but Taylor wasn’t interested.

The scene was pretty much a dirt lot with the skeletal frame of a building. They hadn’t gotten very far on the project by the looks of it. They wouldn’t get any further today either. He could see the construction foreman out of the corner of his eye, both answering questions and asking them. Doubtless, he wasn’t happy about losing a day’s work. Hate to tell him he would probably lose more than a day.

Detective George Sullivan, Taylor’s best detective and friend for the last seven years, was near the deceased, going through the routine of processing the body, taking photos, checking for identification, and all the other things cops did before a forensic team arrived. It could take a long time for them to show up in a small city inside a small county that neighbored a much larger county and city. Sullivan noticed Taylor’s approach and stood up, giving Roger his first good look at the body. “Morning, Roger. Our victim’s name is ___”

“Manuel de Santos,” Roger interrupted, “thirty-eight years old, originally from Veracruz, Mexico. Truck driver by trade for the last nine years. Wife and three kids.”

“Yeah, how the hell did you know that? He drove for ____”

“I know who he drove for.” Taylor turned to walk back to his car. Sullivan fell in behind him, not really following what just happened. The two detectives crossed the crime tape and stood by Taylor’s Dodge Charger.

“You want to tell me what this is about, Roger?” Sullivan asked as he reached into his jacket pocket and drew out his cigarette pack. He politely offered Taylor one, knowing he didn’t smoke, but he always offered. It was chilly this morning in early May. Sullivan wrapped his jacket around him, putting the cigarettes back in his inside pocket.

“Manuel was a confidential informant. I recruited him about two months ago. He was brought in on DUI and possession charges. When I heard who he worked for, I made him a deal. The charges go away if he spied on his boss for me. You know the drill.” Sullivan nodded. He knew Taylor had tried a number of angles to get info on this company, and he had always come up empty. “He called me a couple of days ago and told me he had something for me. Wouldn’t tell me over the phone. Said he would meet me when he got back from his run to Phoenix this week.

“So I guess you think that’s why he’s lying there with holes in his body, huh?”

“What do you think?”

“Tell you what I know there are three gunshots. One in the forehead and two in the chest. Whoever did this looked him in the eyes while he did it. Cold. Colder than it is out here today.”

“Damn it.” Taylor said as he reached in his pocket to retrieve his phone. “Finish up here. I’ll go break the news to the widow. Do a good job on this one, George, No mistakes.” He got in his car and drove away toward the de Santoses’ home across town. Somehow they did it to him again.