“Made bail,” Bernie muttered. “This is bad, Lex. Really bad.”
“How so?” She leaned down and grabbed discarded jeans to shimmy into.
Voices lifted in the background. “Just get here. You need to see this.” Bernie clicked off.
She hustled into clothes and out into the rain to make the quick drive across town to the crime scene in a subdivision. The stench of burned flesh assaulted Lex’s nostrils the second she stepped out of the car. She faltered for the briefest of seconds and then straightened her shoulders, striding past the crime scene tape, the milling officers, and even the gawkers out late to see the commotion. Unlike the last crime scene, the nicely treed street held freshly painted houses with perfectly manicured lawns.
Through the swirling red and blue lights, she caught sight of Bernie up a long driveway next to a white colonial. Small but quaint.
Stepping over a couple puddles, she skirted an overgrown hydrangea bush and reached her partner. She glanced down and breathed out. “Holy shit.”
Bernie nodded. “Yep.”
Duck lay on his back, one hand thrown over his forehead. Scorch marks and what appeared to be burned blood covered his mouth and jaw, and even his neck. Lex covered her mouth and nose while crouching down.
Bernie shoved a pair of gloves into her hand. “Check out his fingernails.”
She donned the gloves and gingerly lifted Duck’s free hand, which had turned red and crusty. Blood seemed to have pooled at the nail beds and even burned a path toward his wrists. “What the hell?”
“His eyeballs are burned out, and I’m sure when the ME opens him up, we’ll find incinerated organs. This is the worst we’ve seen from an Apollo overdose. There’s bruising around the jaw as if his mouth was held open and the drug shoved down his gullet.” Bernie jerked his head toward the quiet home. “Duck’s house.”
Lex slowly stood. “Duck lived in this nice house?”
“Apparently.” Bernie rocked back on his heels. “Just waiting for a warrant to go in, since he was found outside.”
Lex glanced at the waiting crowd, many of whom wore hastily thrown on robes over pajamas. “Who found him?”
Bernie pointed to an elderly lady in a flowered housecoat huddling under the eaves of the adjoining home—a blue rancher with pristine white shutters. “Mrs. Lakeland. Retired teacher and neighbor for about three years.”
Lex nodded and maneuvered past several crime techs to the white-haired lady. “Mrs. Lakeland, I’m Detective Monzelle. Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions?”
Mrs. Lakeland lifted surprisingly sharp blue eyes. “Not at all.”
Lex tried for a reassuring smile. “How long have you known the deceased?”
Mrs. Lakeland took a deep breath that shook her entire eighty-pound or so body. “Albert moved in about three years ago. Such a sweet boy. Brought my trash cans in every week and helped me to find Razzles every time the darn cat decided to take off.”
Lex blinked. Sweet boy? “Um, are we talking about Duck? The Motorcycle club member?”
“Duck.” Mrs. Lakeland chortled. “Yes, that was his little nickname.” She sighed and brushed a wiry white curl away from her wrinkled forehead. “I heard him swearing on the phone once to someone, and it was like he turned into somebody else. When he came outside, he saw me tending to my tulips. That boy apologized up and down for the crude language.”
“Duck apologized?” Lex asked slowly.
“Of course. We all have more than one persona, young lady. To me? He was Albert, my very nice neighbor.”
Well, hells bells. “Yes, ma’am.” She cut a look to Bernie, who just shrugged. “How did you find Du—Albert, Mrs. Lakeland?”
“Oh my.” Mrs. Lakeland wrung bony hands together in front of her tightly knotted belt. “A ruckus woke me, so I fumbled for my glasses and tried to hurry to the window. At my age, hurrying is more of a slow-motion movement.” Her faded pink lips trembled. “I reached the window in time to see a fire on his driveway.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Turned out it was Albert.”
Lex reached out and patted the woman’s thin arm. “Did you see anybody else in the driveway?”
“Two men.” Mrs. Lakeland nodded, shaking the loose skin on her chin. “Big, really big men dressed in long black coats. I think they had dark hair, but that’s all I can say. I saw them jump into a black SUV at the curb and speed away. Why would they set Albert on fire?” she asked, a tear slipping out.
“I don’t know.” Lex rubbed her arm. “Is there anybody we can call to come stay with you tonight, Mrs. Lakeland?”
The elderly lady shook her head. “No. I’m fine.” She shivered in the chilly air.
Lex nodded for a female uniformed officer, who hustled over. “This nice officer is going to take you inside and maybe make you some tea, ma’am.”