After dinner, King knows he has to get out of the area to give himself some time to think without being worried about being arrested. He has a friend who has a cabin up in Red Feather Lakes, a mountain community about an hour northwest of Ft. Collins. He’s stayed with this friend before and has been told he is always welcome. King figures he can go up there and chill out for a while.
King has no clothes or possessions with him, so first, he will have to get to his condo to get some warm clothing and other essentials. He also wants to get his passport and some business files. He hopes he will be able to conduct some business by phone while Lisa runs the office. King believes the police must not have gotten all the forensic evidence analyzed yet. Because once they do, they will realize only Cooper could have been the shooter.
It is now dark as King drives from Castle Pines to Lone Tree. As he gets closer to his condo complex, he carefully scans the area looking for the police or anyone who might look like an undercover officer. Seeing no one as he approaches, he pulls into the parking lot adjacent to his building and parks his car. He sits in the car for a few moments looking around. Seeing nothing suspicious, King decides it is safe to enter his condo to pack his things. He figures he will only need ten or fifteen minutes at the most to pack what he wants to take.
King carefully exits his car and briskly walks to his front door. He sees pry marks on the door and frame. The lock is no longer secure, and anyone could enter if they wanted to. King still uses his key to not cause any further damage. King quickly grabs a duffle bag and starts to pack his clothing.
The Lone Tree Police Department has been tasked with regularly checking on King’s condo in the event he might return, and to also provide some security due to the damaged door. They are aware he is now wanted on a murder charge. As King is packing, a Lone Tree officer slowly drives into the parking lot looking for evidence of King’s return. He immediately notices a light is on in King’s condo. The officer then scans the parking lot and spots the white BMW with license plate KCS173. He immediately gets on his radio to report the suspect has returned and requests immediate backup. He also asks dispatch to notify the Castle Rock Police Department.
King continues to pack his belongings for several more minutes. He notices his Ruger revolver is missing. Damn cops, he says to himself. He grabs his toiletries from the bathroom and haphazardly throws the items in his bag. Okay, I think I’ve got everything I need. Once satisfied, King secures the front door as best he can, then starts walking toward his car. He looks up and is shocked to see two Lone Tree police cars blocking the exit from his parking lot. King stops for a moment. He’s not sure what to do.
“Freeze!” King hears.
“Police! Don’t move! Drop the bag and put your hands up!”
King now realizes there are two officers crouched behind parked vehicles about fifty feet away with guns pointed at him. King immediately leaps and spins, dropping his bag and running for his front door.
“Stop! Police!” he hears again as he runs for the door. I’m not going to jail, he keeps telling himself. King reaches the front door and does not bother trying to unlock or open the door. King simply runs toward the door, lowers his left shoulder, and crashes into it as hard as he can. The already damaged frame splinters at the deadbolt and the door goes flying open as King tumbles into his condo. King rolls until he hits the edge of the wall separating his kitchen from the living room. King feels a sharp pain shoot through his left shoulder like an arrow. He thinks he may have broken his collar bone against the door.
King gets up as quickly as possible and shuts the door. He then slides a heavy chair over and pushes it against the door to keep it shut. King falls back against the wall, taking several deep breaths and holding his shoulder. He is not sure what to do next, but he knows he’s not going to jail. After a few moments, King realizes the shouting has stopped and it is quiet. He peeks out the front window and now sees two Lone Tree police cars and one Douglas County Sheriff’s car. The calvary is coming.
It is 7:12 pm when Masters gets a phone call from dispatch. He is told that King has been located at his condo and is currently barricaded inside. Once off the phone, Masters immediately calls Tippen.
“Jane, they’ve found King.”
“Where at?”
“He’s holed up in his condo. Police found him there and tried to arrest him, but he ran back inside. I’ll be over in 10 minutes to pick you up.”
“Alright, I’ll be ready.”
Masters quickly straps on his holster and Smith and Wesson .45 semi-auto pistol, grabs a couple extra magazines of ammunition, throws on a jacket, and heads out the door. He drives lights and siren over to Tippen’s. She is standing outside when he arrives.
Tippen quickly gets in the car and Masters accelerates and heads for the interstate that will take them to Lone Tree. Masters runs with emergency lights and siren the entire way. It takes Masters and Tippen only twelve minutes to get to King’s condo complex sixteen miles away. By the time Masters and Tippen arrive, numerous police officers and Douglas County SWAT team members are on the scene. Evacuations of nearby neighbors have already occurred.
The SWAT Commander approaches Masters and Tippen and fills them in on what has happened thus far. They have been unable to get King to exit his condo. They’ve tried bullhorn and calling him, but he is not responding. Masters asks if he can give it a try.
“Sure, he may respond to you.”
Masters takes the bullhorn and walks closer to the condo, keeping behind cover as best he can.
“Justin,” announces Masters, “this is Detective Bill Masters. Detective Jane Tippen is also with me. We need to talk. I’m going to call you on my cell phone. Please answer the phone.”
Masters then takes his cell phone and calls King’s number. It rings four times with no answer. On the fifth ring, King answers the phone.
“Hello, Detective.”
“Justin, thank you for answering. Tell me, what is going on here?” asks Masters.
“You tell me. Why am I surrounded by the police, treating me like a wanted criminal? You have the person who killed Naomi. Stop harassing me.”
“Justin, we just need to talk. We know you have more information than what you’ve told us. We need to clarify exactly what happened.”
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
“Justin, please come out and talk to me. No one is going to hurt you.”
“No, you need to leave me alone now.”
“You know I can’t do that Justin. We need to talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“The fact that you were with Naomi and Ryan on the night she was killed.”
“That’s not true and you have no evidence of that!”
“We already know you were Justin, that’s why I need you to explain to me what happened while you were there.”
“You’re just making crap up now. I wasn’t there and you can’t prove I was.”
“Justin, listen to me carefully. You did a great job of wiping your prints off Ryan’s gun, but you forgot about the bullets.” Masters pauses and there is no response.
“You see Justin, we were able to process the prints you left on those bullets. They are your fingerprints Justin and nobody else’s. But you would know that, right?”
“You’re talking crazy now.”
At this point, Masters knows he has him. King did not deny loading the gun or that his fingerprints were on the bullets. He’s trying to divert the conversation by attacking Masters.
“And if that weren’t enough Justin, we obtained your phone records, as well as Naomi’s. She called you the night of her murder from her book club meeting.”
Again, no response.
“Oh, another thing, we have you and your car arriving on the evening of the murder. We even have you leaving after she was shot.”
“You’re bluffing.”
Again, Masters makes a mental note that King did not deny it.
“This is why we
need to talk Justin. Let’s clear this all up, and if you can do that, you will be free to go.”
King is sitting on the floor in his condo contemplating his predicament, wondering how he is ever going to get out of this now. He feels like a trapped animal. He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knows the ruse is over.
“I’m not going to jail detective.”
“Maybe not, at least not if we can talk and figure all this out. But if you won’t talk with us, we have no choice but to take you to jail. We need you to explain this evidence and why you lied to us. It’s time to come out now Justin. No one will hurt you.”
“Can you promise me I won’t go to jail?”
“You know I can’t promise you that Justin. Unless of course, you can explain all this evidence pointing to your involvement.”
“I’m not going to jail.”
“So what are you going to do, sit in your condo for the rest of your life? Think about your kids Justin.”
“You’re going to have to come in and get me.”
“Justin, we have an entire SWAT team out here. Don’t be stupid. Stop this nonsense and come out. Detective Tippen and I will take you with us back to the station where we can talk. We need your version of what happened.”
There is a long pause.
“Justin,” continues Masters, “your friend Ryan is sitting in jail charged with First Degree Murder. He was drugged with Rohypnol on the night of Naomi’s murder. Did you drug your friend and partner to frame him for murder? How is this fair to Ryan?”
King of course knows Masters is right. He starts to feel shame for what he has done to Cooper. His dissatisfaction with his own life led him to do things he never thought possible. King knows the truth may be the only thing to keep Cooper out of jail. Of course, the truth will put him in jail, and that is not an option for King.
“Detective,” says King, “I need you to record what I’m going to tell you.”
Masters had already set his phone on speaker so that the SWAT Commander could listen and Tippen has been recording the entire conversation.
“We are Justin, go ahead and say what you need to say.”
King takes a deep breath, “Ryan had nothing to do with Naomi’s murder. I planned it and shot Naomi with Ryan’s gun to make it look like he shot her. I drugged Ryan with Rohypnol prior to Naomi coming home. Ryan never knew what happened. I was having an affair with Naomi, but Ryan didn’t know it. The letter was a fake, written by me. After I shot Naomi, I wiped down the gun, then placed it in Ryan’s hand. I take full responsibility.”
“Why Justin?”
“I was drowning in debt and saw the only way out was to get full control of the business. I know that was selfish, but I was not thinking clearly. Please tell Naomi’s family I am sorry.”
“But why kill Naomi?”
“I had to. She was in line to inherit Ryan’s half of the business and I needed full control. She wanted to marry me, and I wanted no part of that. After the divorce I went through, no way I was ever getting married again. With her death and Ryan taking the blame, I would be able to remove him as partner and have it all to myself. It sounds so stupid now. Tell Ryan I’m sorry as well, will you?” says Ryan as his voice gets softer.
“You can tell him yourself, Justin. It’s time to come out now.”
“I’ll be coming out in a few minutes.”
The SWAT Commander radios to his team to be ready, the suspect will be exiting soon. SWAT officers have surrounded the condo with snipers and an arrest team. Officers have .223 caliber rifles and twelve-gauge shotguns aimed at King’s front door. They are ready to take him into custody. They are also ready to shoot if need be.
“Okay Justin, tell me when you are coming out and an officer will give you directions. Be sure to come out without any weapons and with your hands high in the air. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Okay,” is all King says. He then disconnects his phone.
“He’s offline,” Masters shouts to the Commander. The Commander communicates this to his team.
SWAT officers now wait for King to exit, ready to give him commands for a safe conclusion.
King remains sitting on the floor of his condo and is now crying. He can’t believe it has all come down to this. King uses his cell phone to call his mother who now lives in a retirement community in Scottsdale, Arizona. She is 76 years old.
“Hey mom, it’s Justin.”
“Oh hi Justin, so nice of you to call. Is something wrong?”
“No, why mom?”
“You usually don’t call this late, but so glad to hear from you. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing well mom,” says King as he tries to hold back his tears.
“And how are those grandkids of mine?”
“Oh, they’re still growing. They’re fine mom. I was just thinking of you and wanted to call to let you know how much I love you.”
“That is so sweet of you. I love you too Justin. You sound sad, are you sure you are okay?”
“Yep, I feel better having called you to hear your voice. How is your arthritis?”
“I’m managing. The pain is not so bad right now. When are you bringing the kids down to see me?”
“Probably later this summer mom, but hey, I’ve got to go. Again, I love you, please remember that.”
“Well thank you Justin, and remember that I love you too.”
“Okay, goodbye mom.”
“Goodbye Justin.”
King puts down his phone and stands up. It’s time to go outside and take his punishment. King moves the chair away from the front door and lets the door swing in, giving him a view outside. He sees bright spotlights pointed at the front of his condo, making it look like a bright sunny day. An officer on a megaphone starts giving King commands to come out with his hands in the air.
King reaches behind his back with his right hand and grabs the semi-auto handgun tucked into the back of his pants and pulls it out. It is now in his right hand hanging at his side. He hears more shouts to come out with his hands up. King takes one more deep breath, then bolts out the door, running straight toward the bright lights. As he gets a couple of steps outside, he quickly raises his right arm, points it at the lights, and starts to pull the trigger.
KABOOM! KABOOM! BAM! BAM! KABOOM!
Shots ring out across the complex shaking windows. King first gets hit in the right shoulder with a .223 rifle round, ripping flesh and bone from his body. He then simultaneously gets hit in the abdomen with a twelve-gauge shotgun blast and another .223 round into the left upper chest. Both shots are fatal as King crumples toward the ground. As he is falling, another shotgun blast hits him in the chin and neck, seriously disfiguring his lower jaw. King is only able to get off one round into the ground before being pelted with police fire. There is no need for medical help. King is clearly dead.
The Following Monday
Detectives Masters and Tippen are back in the office on Monday morning finishing up reports from last Friday’s events when the Police Chief stops by to congratulate them on their investigation.
“You two did one hell of a job in getting to the bottom of this one,” praised the Chief. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of a case quite like it.”
“No sir,” says Tippen, “it had us stumped for a while. Had King not made a few mistakes, I think Mr. Cooper would have been convicted of killing his wife.”
“It wasn’t just his mistakes,” replied the Chief, “it was also the tenacity and work you two put into this. I just wanted to personally congratulate you. Really great work.”
“Well, thank you, sir,” says Tippen.
“Yes, thank you, Chief,” chimes in Masters.
Shortly after the Chief leaves, Tippen receives a call from DA Simmons.
“Just wanted to let you know we filed to dismiss all charges against Ryan Cooper this morning. He will be out of jail before noon today.”
“Thank you for letting us know,” replies Tippen.
Tippen turns to Masters, “Cooper is getting out this morning.”
Masters sighs, “This was one hell of a case Jane, and I hope we never get another one like it.”
Tippen laughs, “Me either Bill.”
About The Author
Mark R Beckner
Mark Beckner is known in Colorado from his time with the Boulder Police Department from 1978 to 2014. He rose through the ranks to become Boulder’s Police Chief in 1998 and remained in that position until his retirement in 2014. Chief Beckner took the reins of a department that was in turmoil and suffering from widespread criticism in the wake of the 1996 JonBenet Ramsey murder. Given the propensity of strange and unusual happenings in Boulder, the Department and Chief Beckner often found themselves in the news. However, it wasn’t until he took over command of the JonBenet Ramsey investigation in late 1997 that he became known across the country by those interested in the bizarre nature of JonBenet’s death. While the case has never been solved, Chief Beckner was able to bring order to the investigation and played a role in getting the case to a grand jury. Most within the local media respected Chief Beckner for his honesty and straightforward approach. Mark Beckner still lives in Colorado and is now using his law enforcement experience and writing skills to create dramatic, suspenseful, and realistic murder-mystery thrillers.
Behind The Lies Page 22