Deadly Guild (Detective Sarah Spillman Mystery Series Book 3)

by Renee Pawlish

  Ernie and I looked down at Tracy. She was a cute girl, with long brown hair, dangling earrings, and a wide, toothy smile that didn’t try to hide her braces.

  “I have no idea where she is now,” Kara said. “Her family used to live about a mile from here. Nice family, met them a time or two when I’d drop Nicole there or pick her up. Nicole went for sleepovers there.”

  I tapped the yearbook. “Do you mind if I look at Nicole?”

  “Help yourself.” Kara smoked while I flipped through the yearbook. I found Nicole’s picture, and Ernie and I studied it as well. As I’d thought back at the motel earlier this morning, Nicole had been pretty. At the time the picture had been taken, the hard life hadn’t gotten her in its grip yet. I saw where a few of her classmates had written things in the yearbook. “Have a great summer! You’re a great pal, stay cool. You rock!” Kara may have felt little for her daughter, but I suddenly felt sad. Such a waste of a life.

  This was a hard part of the job, one of the things I hadn’t missed.

  “When she was here the last time, you didn’t get any indication that she might have been in danger?” I asked.

  Kara shook her head. “The only danger I was aware of was her being a prostitute. I can’t imagine that that’s safe.”

  “Did she leave anything behind?” Ernie asked.

  Kara sneered. “She didn’t stay long enough to leave anything. We argued again, I refused to give her any money, and she left.”

  I glanced around the room, so stark and bare, so lacking in comfort and love. I could in some small way understand why Nicole might’ve wanted to escape, although she ended up in an even worse situation.

  “Do you know where she was living?” I went on.

  “At one point, she told me she had a place with some girls on St. Paul Street, but I don’t know if she was living there the last time I saw her. For all I know, she could’ve been homeless.”

  That matched with the address I’d gotten on her latest arrest report.

  “Have you heard of the Princeton Motel?” Ernie asked.

  She shook her head. “Where’s that?”

  “On West Colfax,” he said.

  “Figures,” she muttered. “Was she hanging out there?”

  “Something like that,” Ernie replied.

  Kara drained her coffee cup, got up, and went to the counter. “Are you sure I can’t get you a cup?”

  Ernie and I both shook our heads. I didn’t want to extend the conversation longer than I had to. Kara poured another cup and topped it off with more Kahlua, and came back to the table.

  “I’m sure you thought this conversation would go differently,” she said. “I watch enough cop shows to know how they think things should be. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t close to my daughter, and I don’t know what happened.”

  Something popped into my head that I was curious about. “She had a strawberry tattoo. Was there any meaning in that?”

  “She loved strawberries, and her daddy said she was his little strawberry.”

  Some people would’ve thought that was cute, but apparently Kara did not. I couldn’t think of anything else to ask, and I really wanted to get away from the smoke and the depressing feeling that surrounded us. I pulled out a business card and slipped it across the table.

  “That has my contact information. If you think of anything else that might be important, please call me. And if anybody happens to call you about your daughter, would you please let me know?”

  She took the card and nodded. “I wouldn’t count on anything.”

  I held up the yearbook. “Do you mind if we take this? I’ll return it when our investigation is finished.”

  “Sure,” she said indifferently.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” It wasn’t a rote statement for me, but something I meant. This time, it fell on deaf ears.

  Chapter Ten

  “That’s a helluva mother,” Ernie said as we were driving away. He pulled a cigar from his coat pocket. He bit off the end and blew it out the window, then stuck the cigar in his mouth.

  “Don’t light that,” I joked.

  “Ha ha.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “Kara’s awfully bitter toward her daughter, awfully callous. Given everything she told us, was the tension between the two of them because of the struggles Kara had financially and otherwise? Or did the tension stem from issues with Kara’s husband?” I turned the corner.

  “You’re thinking she would murder her daughter over animosity toward her ex?”

  I thought long and hard about that. “I don’t know. That’s awfully cold as well. Someone was angry enough at Nicole to execute her. Is Kara that angry?”

  “That would mean she lied to us left and right,” Ernie said. The cigar rolled as he gnawed it from one side of his mouth to the other. “What would Kara’s motive be to kill Nicole? I don’t buy that she’d kill her just because she’s angry at her.” I shrugged. He worked the cigar for a moment. “Are you saying she knew where her daughter was, went down to the motel and picked her up, then shot her and brought her back to the parking lot?”

  As we sat at a traffic light, I worked on that theory. “Honestly, no. But we can’t rule out anything. I got the impression Kara was lying about Drew being abusive. Maybe Nicole and Kara fought about that. Here’s another theory. Kara hired someone to kill her daughter.” I held up a hand before Ernie could protest. “I know, it all sounds crazy. I don’t see Kara having enough money to hire anyone, even if people will kill for precious little these days.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “For that matter, anybody could’ve paid to have Nicole killed.”

  “The question is who?”

  That hung in the air for a minute.

  “When we get back to the station,” I said, “I want you to track down Nicole’s high school friends. The yearbook should help with that. You’re good with kids, so you might be able to find out something to help us. Nicole might’ve recently been in touch with someone she was friends with, someone who might know if anyone had a beef with Nicole.”

  “Enough to want to kill her.”

  “Exactly. Check the yearbook and see if you can find Lola, too, or if anyone you talk to knows who she is.”

  “Will do.”

  “I’ll send Spats back to Colfax to canvas the neighborhood again, check with the businesses in the area to see if anybody has any video cameras pointed toward the motel, or if anyone at the all-night gas stations in the area heard or saw anything. Let’s see if we can find who came to the motel around the time her body was discovered, and who left. He needs to look at the gas station video to see if he can find out more about the 911 caller.”

  “His to-do list is getting longer.”

  I laughed. “Oh, and one more thing. He needs to verify that Steve Gibson and Madison McCann were at the Easy Bar when they said they were, and if anyone saw them waiting outside the motel.”

  “Makes sense,” he said. By his tone, he knew it could be a long day of running around town.

  I dialed Spats and put him on speaker.

  “Hey,” he said, then yawned. “I think I’ll be here all morning. The DA has a lot of questions. What do you need?”

  I told him what I wanted him to do. “And if you happen to run into any prostitutes while you’re out and about, which I’m sure you will, see what they know about Nicole, or a woman named Lola.”

  “I’m sure I’ll run into some hookers,” Spats said. “They shouldn’t be called ‘ladies of the night’ anymore, since they’re out and about twenty-four-seven.”

  “Right.” I continued. “In the meantime, I’m going to see if I can track down Nicole’s friend, Tracy. It’s possible Nicole kept in touch with her.”

  Spats rang off. By now, I’d arrived at the station. I dropped Ernie off by his car, then parked and went up to the second floor where my desk is. It was quiet, no one around. I grabbed a cup of coffee, then got on the internet.

  A people-search
told me that Tracy Sheppard lived in Commerce City with her parents, not too far from where Kara lived. After a bit more searching, I found a phone number for the house and called. It was now getting close to nine, and I wondered if anyone would be at home. I lucked out when a woman answered.

  “Hello?” The voice was mid-range and soft.

  I identified myself, then asked for Tracy.

  “She’s not here right now.”

  “Are you Mrs. Sheppard. Tracy’s mother?”

  “Yes.” The tone went frantic, her words tumbling over each other. “What’s this about? Is Tracy okay?”

  “It’s about Nicole Lockwood,” I said. “She was killed last night. I was hoping to talk to your daughter about Nicole. They were friends in high school, correct?”

  Dead silence for a moment, then, “When you said you were a homicide detective, I immediately thought about my daughter. I haven’t heard Nicole’s name in ages. What happened?” Her voice went up, curious. After my conversation with Kara Lockwood, I pictured Mrs. Sheppard. She sounded pleasant and actually caring and motherly.

  “It’s an ongoing investigation, so I can’t tell you much. I will say the death is suspicious. Tracy and Nicole were friends in high school?” I prompted her.

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “What can you tell me about Nicole?”

  “When I knew her, she was a sweet girl, at least initially. She was shy and didn’t say a lot to me, but she was very nice. My daughter took a liking to her, and I think in some ways felt a little sorry for her.” She let out a sad breath. “I don’t think Nicole had the best home life. There were problems with her mother.”

  “What kinds of problems?”

  “From what I could gather, they fought a lot. And Nicole would say that her mom wasn’t too concerned about her. Nicole was upset about her father’s death, too. Beyond that, I don’t know a whole lot. My daughter might be able to tell you more. She hung around Nicole a lot, and kind of helped Nicole with some of her classes. Nicole struggled in school.”

  “Where is your daughter? I’d like to speak with her in person if I could.”

  “She’s taking classes at Metro. She has a psychology class at ten. You might be able to find her down there. Or she’ll be home later tonight.”

  “I’d like to talk to her now, if possible. Would you be able to get hold of her and have her meet me somewhere?”

  “I can try. Let me see if I can reach her. Can I call you back?”

  “Sure.” I gave her my number, ended the call, and stared at my laptop monitor. I was feeling tired, and while I waited for Mrs. Sheppard to call back, I took a moment to stretch and clear my head. The time at the beginning of an investigation is critical, so I tend to go non-stop. It’s also when things make the least sense – too much information that’s disconnected. Having a fuzzy brain wouldn’t help me.

  I walked around the room, then sat back down and googled Kara Lockwood. She had no arrests and no traffic tickets, basically a clean record. A bit more research told me she was active on social media, and that she’d worked as a manager at a Bed Bath & Beyond for several years. I found a high school reunion website, and a few people had made some comments about her, how she used to like to party, but not a whole lot else. I couldn’t find anything to indicate she was in any kind of trouble, legally, financially, or in any other way. If Kara had killed her daughter, I was likely not going to find a motive for that online. I was sipping coffee when I heard a familiar voice.

  “Sarah, can you come to my office?” It was Commander Calvin Rizzo standing right beside my desk. He’s tall and seemed to tower over me.

  I like Rizzo, I get along with him, and feel like he is a fair boss. He’s tough when he needs to be, compassionate when it’s warranted, and he’s smart and knows how to help us. And best of all, he lets me do my job. Which is why it had puzzled me to hear that he didn’t want me on this investigation. I found myself resentful about that now. My stomach knotted up, and my palms began to sweat. I didn’t want to talk to him right at the moment, but I had to.

  I got up and followed him into his office, my steps forceful. He went around his desk and gestured for me to close the door. He sat down and rested his hands on the desk, a seeming conciliatory move. I glanced over his shoulder at awards and pictures of him with local dignitaries, then focused on him.

  “I’m sure you heard by now that I was going to have Daniel Hackman take this investigation instead of you,” he said.

  Yes.” My voice was clipped, and knew it held more anger than I wanted him to hear.

  He tipped his head, indicating I should sit down. I hesitated, then took a seat across from him. He hadn’t closed the blinds on the window behind me that looked out to the detective corp. If he was going to dress me down, I wished he would. He stared at me and said, “It’s not what you think.”

  “What is it about?”

  “What did you hear?” he deflected my question with one of his own.

  I marshalled calm and began. “I don’t get it. I’d just been cleared to resume my normal duties, and you’d backed me this whole time I was on desk duty, said that whenever I felt ready to get back out there, you’d support me. When Carson Welch was killed, you said you had my back, that you knew what I did was justified.”

  I went for another breath, and he held up a hand to stop me. “What you heard isn’t correct,” he said. I stopped talking. “I knew you were mad at me.” He rubbed his forehead and groaned, then went on. “Have you heard anything about Oakley’s investigation, the death of a homeless vet?”

  Ed Oakley is another detective in the department. I don’t know him very well, just that he’s from Boston and he’d recently been promoted to the homicide division. I’d heard he was smart, but I couldn’t say from personal experience. We crossed paths on a recent investigation, and I didn’t have any issues with him.

  I shrugged. “Only that he hasn’t gotten very far with the investigation. He’s been working on it since last week?”

  Rizzo nodded and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t look happy. “You’re correct. The case has been open for a while, and Oakley hasn’t come up with anything. I’m not faulting him, he’s a new homicide detective and he’s doing the best he can. The problem is that the victim’s father is Carlton Hall.” I quickly tried to place the name, but couldn’t. Rizzo continued. “He’s a good friend of Chief Follett.”

  Now I remembered Carlton Hall. “The lieutenant governor’s son was murdered?” I was beginning to see what was going on. Politics at play, just as Ernie and I had speculated. Just not in the way I’d originally thought. Rizzo was getting pressure to run the investigation according to Follett’s wishes.

  Rizzo could see I was putting things into place. “Yes. We haven’t talked to the press yet because Hall doesn’t want people to know his son was homeless. And I’ve got Follett pushing me to get the case resolved ASAP. He wants someone else to step in and help Oakley, and I suggested you. Follett wasn’t keen on that because your last case involved a shooting, justified or not. He also wasn’t happy to hear you were cleared for the investigation you just got this morning. I actually had to fight him, telling him you would be the best one for your case, and to help Oakley. Speaking of your investigation, what do you have so far?”

  “A dead hooker,” I said. “We’ve been on it for hours, and I’ll stay on it all day.”

  He did the hand thing again, shushing me. “I don’t have any problems with your skills. But I need you to assist Oakley as well. I want you to get together with him. I know it’s going to be tough with what you’ve got going on, but talk to him and see if you can help move his case forward. That way we get Follett off our backs. Oh, to complicate things, Carlton Hall now wants the press to know. He hopes going public might get someone to come out of the woodwork with information on his son’s killing. There’s a news conference at three. You need to be here for it.”

  I sucked in a breath. “That’ll bring us attention we don�
�t want.”

  “It’s out of my control.”

  I didn’t argue that. “What do you know about Oakley’s investigation?”

  “Jonathan Hall, Carlton’s son, was homeless, and his body was found on the South Platte River, an apparent drowning. Not a lot to go on, and on the face of it, it didn’t look like much. Get together with Oakley for all the details. I told Oakley you’d call him. The scrutiny on this one is intense, so we need to find his murderer, and fast. And don’t forget the press conference at three.” He glanced at a clock on the wall. “As the saying goes, the clock is ticking. Give me some results.” That was Rizzo’s way of dismissing me.

  I got up and headed out of his office, feeling somewhat vindicated. My life had suddenly gotten more complicated, but I was okay with that, because I knew Rizzo hadn’t lost faith in me.

  Chapter Eleven

  I had no sooner sat down at my desk than my phone rang.

  “Hi, it’s Jill Sheppard. I talked to Tracy, and she said she could meet you after her class. It’s in the Central Classroom Building on the Auraria Campus. Are you familiar with the campus?”

  “No, but I can figure it out.”

  “She told me to tell you she’s wearing white shorts and a blue blouse, and that she has a black backpack.”

  “Thanks, I’m sure I can find her. I appreciate your help.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can. I haven’t seen Nicole in a long time, but I feel really bad about this. I do hope you find out what happened to her.”

  I thanked her for her time and ended the call. I got back on the computer. Metropolitan State University is a state school near downtown on the Auraria Campus, and I looked up the campus and located the Central Classroom Building. It would be easy to find. I called Oakley next. He didn’t answer, so I left him a message to call me. I took a bathroom break – too much coffee – and as I returned to my desk, my cell phone buzzed. I looked at the text. It was from Harry.

  I hope your day is going well. I have faith in you. You’re a great detective. I love you.