“Your theory about the path in the leaves would fit the trajectory the arrow took through his body,” Lagrone continued.
“How do you think it went down?” Hull asked.
Lagrone gathered his thoughts before speaking. “I think someone selected that house because it was empty and had an alarm system. I think someone then cleared a path in the leaves so he could close ground on the officer in silence. I think that same someone then kicked in the back door and waited for Price behind the shed. When he saw Price, he waited for him to walk up the deck and then moved in on him from behind, fired the arrow, ran up the steps and knocked him into the kitchen. Then he stuck a knife in his neck.”
Hull sat silently for a few moments. “That would take a pretty cool customer.”
“Ice cold,” Lagrone agreed. “What’s your theory?”
“I was thinking the same damn thing…but hoping I was wrong. All we need is a professional killer running around knocking off cops. How long of a shot would that have been with the bow?”
“I don’t have the measurements on me, but I’d say between twenty and thirty yards.”
“So besides picking the perfect locale and all that bullshit, our shooter has the foresight to clear a path in the leaves so he can stalk his prey silently, he waits in the freezing cold, takes a shot at a uniformed police officer with a fucking bow and arrow at around twenty-five yards, and then has the balls to charge up there on an armed cop and plunge a knife in his neck. Is that what we’re saying?”
“Sounds about right.”
“Jesus, Chuck! I got buck fever the first time I shot a rifle at a deer—shook like a little girl. I can’t imagine shooting a bow at an armed cop and having the nuts to follow the arrow up there. Whoever our someone is—he’s killed before.”
“I’d bet on current or ex-military. Maybe Special Forces,” Lagrone said.
“Or SWAT. Something to check into.”
“There’s something else we should consider. What if Price didn’t activate his emergency button? What if our shooter did? We never did find his radio.”
“Why the hell would the killer hit the emergency button?” Hull asked.
“The only thing I can think of is he wanted us to find Price’s body sooner rather than later. Either that or he was sending a message.”
“The damned knife in his throat was message enough. Maybe the killer was only hitting buttons—didn’t know what he was doing?” Hull pondered out loud.
“If what we’ve been guessing about this guy is true, that doesn’t sound likely.”
“I agree. We pretty sure our killer hit the button?”
“No. Just something to consider. But Price’s emergency button was activated eleven minutes after he went 10-97. If I were a betting man, I’d guess Price was killed within a couple of minutes of arriving on scene.”
Hull had already reached the same conclusion. Price had probably checked the front door, found it intact, and circled the house. It had likely taken him less than a couple of minutes to reach the back door.
“You’re probably right.”
“Another thing; everyone who knows Price says he carries a cell phone—always. We couldn’t find one on his person or in his car.”
“No shit? We need to start pinging that phone right now, Skull.”
“One step ahead of you. It’s off the grid. Suspect either turned the phone off or removed the card.”
“Figures. Why do you think the killer risked taking a phone off Price’s body with a house alarm waking up half the neighborhood?”
“Only one reason, boss. Whoever killed him really wanted that cell phone. The question is, why? To get information, or to destroy it?”
“We need to get his phone records ASAP, Skull…I know, I know, you’re one step ahead of me.”
“Always am. Don’t have ‘em yet, but we’re working on it.”
The two men sat staring at the desk between them before Hull broke the silence again. “You said something interesting when you were giving me your theory. You said the killer waited for Price behind the shed. Not waited for an officer, but waited for Price.”
“I didn’t mean to imply the suspect knew the specific officer he was going to kill, though that’s obviously something we’ll have to look at,” Lagrone explained as he studied his boss’s sour expression. “There’s something you’re thinking, Bob. Let’s hear it.”
Hull paused a few moments before responding. “Close the door, Chuck.”
Lagrone performed the task and returned to the couch.
“From the scene it’s obvious this was a premeditated murder on a police officer. Let’s have a discussion presuming Price was specifically targeted. We have no evidence of this, but let’s travel down the road a ways and see where we end up.”
“Okay, Bob, but I get the feeling you’ve already traveled down this road.”
“Just wild speculation; speculation facilitated in part because it was Price who was killed. He just happens to be one of the most loathed officers on the department, and in my opinion, probably dirty as hell. In fact, if he were killed in a drive-by I’d just chalk it up to one of his associates popping him. But this bow and arrow shit doesn’t fit that profile. I think we’re looking at someone with a tactical background.”
“I know what you’re saying. Bit of a coincidence that one of the most despised officers on the department gets taken out with a professional-looking hit.”
“If Price was specifically targeted, I’d have to say the hitter was a cop. What do you think?”
Lagrone thought for a full minute before responding. “I’d agree with you. First, the killer would have to know Price’s hours and days off. Second, he’d need to know what beat Price worked to make sure he was the one who responded. Third, he’d almost have to be in possession of a police radio to know if Price were available to take the call. Fourth, he’d more than likely be knowledgeable about how we handle alarms. So yes, if we are assuming Price was specifically targeted, I’d say the killer is probably a cop and probably TPD.”
“Big assumption—yes. We’re just tossing around ideas. I don’t want to think one of our own did this either. In addition, the killer would have known officers tend to advise on alarm calls. I also agree he’d have to be in possession of a police radio, not just a scanner that would be skipping around all the different frequencies; otherwise he’d never be sure he was going to end up with Price in the backyard. It would also explain how the killer would know how to activate an emergency button—if in fact the killer did hit the button. Okay, with all these assumptions taken into consideration, who on this department has the motivation, the skill, and the cold-bloodedness to pull this thing off?”
“Again, I think you’d be looking at someone ex or current military, someone who has killed before. Maybe someone fresh from Sand Land who doesn’t get the shakes about taking a human life anymore.”
“I agree the suspect has killed before. You don’t carry out your first killing with a fucking bow and Buck knife. I could see someone using a rifle or something, but I can’t imagine a first-timer taking a guy out the way Price was killed.”
“We also need to consider some SOT guys; a couple on the team have multiple kills,” Lagrone added.
“So assuming Price was targeted, we’re looking for a Tulsa police officer with an array of tactical skills who has killed before and has a beef with Price.”
“I can start compiling a list,” Lagrone offered.
“Do it on the down-low. If the brass comes up with the same idea and asks you about it, just tell them we’ve already considered the possibility and we’re investigating it. If they want more, refer them to me.”
The two men sat on opposite sides of Hull’s desk both staring at the cluttered workspace with unfocused eyes. Lagrone shook his head.