Page 84 of More Than a Hero
Pete noticed Jeremy’s mouth curved at the mention of Cora’s name. He knew he’d do the same if someone talked about Angie.
Turning back to Terry, Pete said, “Can we talk to the couple?”
“Yep,” Terry said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the laundromat. “I told Liam to keep them here. I figured you’d want to see if you could get anything out of them that his detectives didn’t. You two know more of the players.”
“Okay, Terry. Thanks,” Jeremy replied, giving a nod of appreciation.
“I’m heading back down to North Heron. If you end up needing backup, just give me a call.”
Pete tilted his head, studying Terry. Their captain was usually composed, but something in his tone seemed rushed.
“Everything all right?” Pete asked, voice low.
Terry offered a tired half smile. “Got a call from the school. My daughter is sick, and of course, the one person who usually helps cover for me is out too.”
Jeremy waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got this covered.”
With a few quick chin lifts and murmured goodbyes, they watched Terry retreat across the lot, slipping into his SUV and pulling away, tires spitting gravel behind him.
Jeremy and Pete turned toward the laundromat, their boots crunching over the pavement. The victim’s vehicle sat crookedly in a space just left of the front window, engine now silent. The driver’s window was shattered, with the glass sprayed all over the front seats, dashboard, and console. Along with blood.
Jeremy spotted the K9 unit nearby—a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard holding the leash of a German Shepherd who paced, alert.
They walked over. Pete extended a hand. “Pete Bolton. This is Jeremy Pickett. Drug Task Force.”
The handler shook it firmly. “Carlos. And this here is Birdie.”
Jeremy gave the dog a small nod, then smiled faintly. “She found traces?”
“Yeah. Led us straight to the trunk. We did a full search, since nothing was visible at first. I had her double-check the back and front seats too. Still clean. One of the detectives finally used trace paper and picked up a little powder in the trunk. Likely a carry situation… maybe a poorly sealed baggie leaked during transport.”
“Got it,” Jeremy said. “Appreciate it.”
Carlos gave a nod, and the partners continued inside.
The laundromat smelled like fabric softener. The old tile floor was chipped in places, and the plastic chairs had seen better days. The machines were all silent, but the warmth of their use still permeated the air.
Along one wall, seated on a molded plastic bench, a couple sat close together. The man had his arm protectively around the woman, and she was clutching a paper cup of coffee with both hands as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Her dark eyes were red-rimmed, her mascara faintly smudged.
A female deputy stood nearby and straightened when she saw them approach.
She gave a respectful nod. “This is Juan and Tina Ramirez.”
Jeremy offered a gentle smile and pulled a chair up across from them, lowering himself slowly so he didn’t feel towering. “It’s good to meet you. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Detective Jeremy Pickett, Drug Task Force. This is my partner, Detective Pete Bolton.”
The couple nodded. Tina gave a small, nervous smile, while Juan kept a steady hand on her shoulder.
Pete took the seat beside Jeremy. His voice was calm, his presence grounding. “I know you've already been questioned. I imagine it’s exhausting to go over this again, but we’d appreciate it if you could walk us through what happened one moretime. Sometimes a small detail, even something that seems insignificant, can help us make a connection.”
“I understand, sir,” Juan said. His voice was quiet, thoughtful. “It all happened so fast.”
“Just start from the beginning,” Pete encouraged. “Tell us what you remember.”
Juan glanced at his wife, who gave him a small nod of encouragement.
“We’d just finished loading the dryers,” Juan began. “We would have about an hour to wait before everything would be ready. I thought about running down to the gas station for lunch, but Tina…” His eyes softened as he looked at her. “She said she thought it might rain. We walked over to the front window to check the sky. Just standing there, talking about what we might get to eat.”
Jeremy leaned in slightly, his voice low and steady. “Do you remember what time this was?”
