Yellow Ribbons Read Online Free PDF Page B

more when the forensic techs process the scene.” Jordan scribbled notes as fast as he could say the words. “Deputies would have run a perimeter check and reported any unique footprints in the yard.”
    Lani leaned forward, as if to share a secret. “Even if they thought it was a suicide? Please, let’s not presume anything at this point.”
    Jordan drummed his pen against the notepad and studied the house.
    Greg weighed their options. Their next step was fairly clear. “The bottom line is, we can bluster, bluff, and bullshit all we want, but until it’s official, none of us can do anything here.”
    “Except intimidate,” Jordan added.
    “And we’ve done that very well.” Lani surveyed the house. “No one’s going to get inside to investigate anything until the coroner’s done. I’ll feel more comfortable once Pattison arrives, but in the meantime, we can start with a thorough look around the house and beyond. Get the deputies to talk with the neighbors and take information.”
    Greg glanced toward Juarez, who was storming their way once more. He kept his voice low, for their ears only. “And pray his incompetence hasn’t already screwed things up.”
    Jordan grunted. “He looks like a cartoon bull with smoke coming out of his ears and nose.”
    Or a gunfighter, judging from the stance the man took ten feet from them: hands on hips, legs astride. “Hey, Beck, your boyfriend’s here.” He walked away, his footsteps pounding divots into the sand, only to be waylaid by Ron Pattison jogging up.
    “Where the fuck’ve you been?” Juarez’s voice was low but the snarl in it carried.
    “I got called into something.” Pattison kept walking. His personality was large, the type of person who filled a room when he walked in. His compact body allowed him to be light on his feet, stealthy. He left little trace in his wake. He was light to Juarez’s dark, in more ways than looks. People gravitated to Pattison and avoided Juarez like the plague. The fact that Pattison had openly invited NCIS to watch over his partner was going to feed animosity. It was hard to sympathize.
    Pattison caught Juarez’s shoulder, urging him back the way he’d come. “Fill me in.”
    Juarez joined the circle as long as it took for them to brief his partner, then started to walk away once more.
    “Care to run a perimeter check together now?” Greg called to his back.
    Juarez turned, passed a scathing gaze over them, then nodded. “All right.”
    It was a nice olive branch, one Greg wasn’t sure Juarez deserved. But they all lived and worked in this community. It never hurt to play nice. Maybe one day Juarez would realize that… If he lasted on the job. Pattison might kill him first.
    In the end the search was a fruitless endeavor. The window leading from the master bathroom was too small to crawl through. The standard desert landscape—sand, rock, and more sand—around the house with the added activity from daily use made it difficult to determine any unique footprints in the dark.
    Sometime in the hours of oh-dark-thirty, Greg, Lani, and Jordan were ready to call it done. The girls were safely in the hands of Nancy Dickerson, the Key Wives volunteer for their father’s unit, who somehow kept calm despite her red-rimmed eyes. Their blue “Going To Grandma’s” suitcases were stuffed with most of the items they’d requested that Greg retrieve, as well as clothes. Their father was going to be home in days and learn that not only was his wife screwing around, she was dead. At least he’d get to see his daughters in something more than Dora PJs and piggy slippers. Greg knew he was exaggerating that point. Someone would have gotten clothing for the girls. But it was the principle of the thing—they needed something of their own, something normal.
    Tipton and Regina’s bodies were removed, and the investigators moved in. The coroner had a memory card filled with pictures of the crime scene. NCIS and/or the sheriff’s