The Last Sister (Columbia River)(31)

“What difference will it make who the father is?” Greer said bitterly. “Both the mother and the baby are dead.”

Dead. Mother. Baby.

Zander fought to hide the shudder that abruptly racked his limbs. “You know as well as I do that it could indicate motivation. Or at least part of the motivation,” he said. “We should find out anyway. I’ll shoot him an email.”

“We’ll need a sample from Billy.”

“Let’s first see if it’s Sean’s.” Zander took a deep breath. This case was getting more twisted by the minute. “Has Kyle or Billy been in the prison system?”

The sheriff took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “I remember Kyle going away for a bit. Assault charge, I think. I want to say he was down in Salem at the state pen. I think Billy’s only been held in the county lockup, but I can double-check.” He replaced the hat and gave a firm tug on the brim. “Let’s head inside and take a look. I need to check in with the crime scene unit back at Copeland’s too.”

Zander followed the sheriff toward a back door at the department. “Did you get a good look at Kyle’s tattoos?” he asked. Clear, black, curved lines burned in Zander’s memory. But the top of the tattoo had disappeared under Kyle’s sleeve.

Greer frowned. “Didn’t pay attention, I guess.” His face cleared. “We have photos of his tattoos on file from his arrests. I’ll find them. We started recording tattoos about five years ago. Sometimes the Portland Police Bureau’s Gang Unit wants to see a tattoo on someone we arrested. They track gang tattoos.”

“I’d like to see the rest of the tattoo on his right forearm. It went under his sleeve.”

“What do you think it is?”

“Could be an indicator of how Kyle feels toward other races.”

“Was it the same symbol as on Sean’s forehead?”

“No.”

Greer deflated a bit. “I’m not up to date on this shit. Wonder how many other things I’m oblivious to.” He yanked open the back entrance and led Zander through a hallway lit by fluorescents. He unlocked a door with his name on it and motioned for Zander to enter.

Zander took a seat. The sheriff stepped behind his desk, woke up his computer, and turned the screen so Zander could watch. While he waited for the sheriff to find the files, Zander sent a quick email about Lindsay’s baby to the medical examiner. There were two voice mails from Ava, and he read the transcriptions on his phone. The first said the county deputy was still watching Billy and keeping an eye on his vehicle as the man worked inside the store. The second asked if he knew about a community meeting tonight to address the Fitch murders.

First I’ve heard of it.

He wondered if the news of Nate Copeland’s death had gotten out. He had doubts about it being a suicide, but the public didn’t know that yet.

They shouldn’t know that yet.

Zander was about to mention the community meeting to the sheriff when Kyle Osburne’s mug shot appeared on the computer screen. Make that several mug shots of Kyle. The sheriff was correct that Kyle had been arrested a number of times. Greer clicked and scrolled and muttered under his breath until he found what he wanted. “Yep. Kyle was in the state pen for eight months. Got out two years ago.” He clicked some more. “Here are the images I was looking for.”

He opened a file of thirteen photographs. Zander leaned toward the screen. The pictures had been taken at different times. The progression showed that Kyle had actively acquired more ink. He had an eagle across his upper back and a tiger on his calf. The most recent photo showed the tiger had been enhanced with color when compared to an older one where it was simply an outline. Kyle’s right arm had a tribal band around his bicep, and Zander eyed it, wondering if it was simply decorative or had a deeper meaning. The sheriff scrolled down the page, and a shot of Kyle’s right forearm rolled into view. The tattoo was a simple shield with two letters inside.

Ice touched Zander’s lungs.

“Is that the one you wanted to see?” the sheriff asked.

“Yes. Scroll back up to the right arm with the tribal band on the bicep, please.”

The sheriff did, and Zander noted the date. “Now back to the forearm view.” He checked its date, remembering Kyle had been in the prison system two years before.

The forearm tattoo had been added after his prison time.

Zander sat back in his chair. He’d been right but didn’t feel victorious.

“Well?” Greer was impatient.

“The E and K in the shield stand for European Kindred,” Zander said slowly. “I’ve come across it in a case before. It’s a white supremacist gang that originated in the Oregon prison system about twenty years ago and spread to the streets.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s real. On the streets it’s more about the drugs, but racism is the primary tenet. Did you say Billy and Kyle had drug arrests?”

“Both do.”

“Do you have tattoo photos for Billy?”

Greer nodded and started to search. A moment later he opened a file for Billy. In the photos, Billy had only one tattoo. A lion roaring on his right deltoid.

Zander was strangely disappointed.

“This photo is four years old. He could have more by now,” Greer stated.