Deadly Guild (Detective Sarah Spillman Mystery Series Book 3)

by Renee Pawlish

  I sat back and smiled. Harry is a wonderful man. We’ve been together for over ten years, but we’ve never gotten married. During the Welch investigation, I had thought more about why that was. I realized most of it had to do with me. I had put up walls between us, kept him at a distance. I didn’t know if I could make a marriage work. Some of it was not trusting myself, but I had to admit that secrets from my past held me back, too. I’d finally told Harry about the long-ago stuff between Diane and me – the illegal things we’d both done, my stupidity in the risks I’d taken to protect her and curry her favor, and her selfish ingratitude about the whole thing. It had left our relationship strained, and it had also left me doubting myself. I wondered, though, if I was reaching a point where I could let all that go. Was it time to commit to Harry once and for all?

  I texted him back, telling him I loved him, too, and that I wasn’t sure when I’d be home. He’s used to my erratic hours, so I wasn’t surprising him. I pocketed my phone and spent a little time on the computer, submitting a report about my community outreach meeting. By the time I left, I still hadn’t heard from Oakley.

  Tracy Sheppard was sitting at a long table in an open area in the Central Classroom Building. She had a Dazbog coffee cup in one hand, a book in front of her. When I approached, she looked up with a tentative smile.

  “Are you Detective Spillman?” she asked. She was as described, in white shorts and blue blouse, and she looked similar to her yearbook picture, a little older, her hair a bit longer, still with all the world before her. She frowned and blinked a few times, then shifted nervously on her seat. Morning sun from high windows bathed us in warmth.

  I slid onto the bench across from her, laced my fingers, and put my hands down on the table. “Your mom told you about Nicole?”

  She nodded, then closed her book. “Yeah, she did. She said you can’t tell us how it happened.” I shook my head, and she went on. “I can’t say that it was a total shock, knowing how much trouble she seemed to be getting into. But it still makes me sad.” She glanced down at the table. “We sure had some fun, a while back. I hated to hear this.”

  Although there were no tears, it was still a stark contrast to Nicole’s mother. Tracy looked around. Other students milled about, but nobody paid any attention to us.

  “Tell me what you remember about Nicole,” I said gently.

  Her face lit up. “There was a point in time where we had a lot of fun, just screwing around. And it wasn’t the drinking and drugging that she eventually got into. I was never much interested in that. I mean, yeah, I drank some, and smoked pot here and there, but it wasn’t any big deal. I’ve always wanted to do well in school, and had even tried to get some scholarships to some bigger colleges. That didn’t happen, so I started classes here and I’m hoping at some point to transfer to a university. I’d like to go to Notre Dame.” She gulped a little coffee. “So anyway, even though I could cut it up here and there, I still stayed focused on my schooling. I want to be a lawyer.”

  “You know how the saying goes. If you work hard, you can achieve it.”

  “Thanks.” A small smile. “Nicole wasn’t really like that, into school. She never talked about what she hoped to do. You know things weren’t good with her mom, right?” I nodded. “They didn’t get along at all, and fought a lot. Mrs. Lockwood just wasn’t that interested in Nicole, didn’t really encourage her to do anything. It was kind of sad. My mom and dad don’t have a ton of money, but they always push me to do better, and tell me that I can get a good education and make something of myself. They’re really encouraging that way. Not Nicole’s mom, she didn’t care that much. Then Nicole got in with a rougher crowd, and she stopped caring about school at all. She started partying more, and I saw less of her. I tried to stay friends because she was nice, but it didn’t last.” She shrugged.

  “Her mom said something about her hanging out with an older man. Do you know anything about that?”

  Tracy hesitated, her gaze darting around the room.

  “You can tell me.”

  “I don’t know …” Not to my question, but to whether she should answer.

  “Please, it might help us find who killed Nicole.”

  She wrinkled her brow and thought for a moment. “I never knew his name, just that she met him late one night, when she was on her way home. It sounded like he was in a car, and he stopped to talk to her. At first I thought the guy was in college, or something like that, you know, closer to our age. But the more she talked about it, it sounded like he was older than that, like someone with a career.” She glanced away.

  “Please tell me what you know. Even little things might help with our investigation.”

  Tracy finally looked at me again. “I think he was a cop.”

  “She was seeing a cop?” I repeated. That would be big, a law enforcement officer seeing an underage girl. I could see why Nicole would want to keep that a secret. My guess was the cop had to have been pressuring her not to say anything as well. I tried to keep my voice neutral so I wouldn’t frighten Tracy into not talking about it. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. She said something about him looking hot in a uniform, and I asked if the guy was in the military. She said not that kind of uniform, but he did carry a gun.” She shrugged. “I asked her if she meant a cop, and she wouldn’t tell me. But that’s the impression I got.”

  “You’re sure she never slipped and told you this guy’s name?”

  “No, she was super-careful, and told me I had to keep it a secret. She was afraid of getting in trouble.” She shook her head in disgust. “Her mom wouldn’t have cared that much, but whatever. I told Nicole she was crazy and she should stop seeing him, but she just ignored that. She said he was a great guy, and they had fun together. I tried to get her to tell me what they did, and she wouldn’t say. I think it was mostly sex, and you could tell she was crazy about him.” She frowned. “It’s funny, I’m in a psych class and learning about relationships and stuff. I think maybe Nicole was looking for a father figure. You know her dad died, right?”

  “Yes, I heard that.”

  “She missed him, and maybe this guy was kind of a replacement for her dad. But that cop would get in a lot of trouble, dating an underage girl.”

  “You got that right. Are you sure she never gave you anything that might tell us who he was?”

  A conversation at another table grew louder, and Tracy put her elbows on the table and leaned closer to me. “No, not at all. She was really careful.”

  I considered what she’d said. “Once Nicole started partying a lot, you lost touch with her?”

  “Yeah, I’d see her around school some, until she dropped out. I haven’t heard anything from her since. Somewhere I heard she had gotten into some pretty heavy drug use, but I don’t know any more than that. Until my mom called me.”

  “Who heard she was doing heavier drugs?”

  “You mean names? We had another friend, Yolanda Ortiz. I’m still friends with her. Maybe she knows more about what Nicole was doing, although she probably would’ve said something to me. You could still try her. She’s a nanny, so she might have some time to talk to you.” She pulled out her phone and scrolled through numbers, then gave Yolanda’s number to me.

  I jotted it down. “Do you know of anyone or any reason why someone might want to kill Nicole?”

  “I don’t. When we were in school, she was generally well-liked. Before she started partying, she was quiet, not into sports or anything. Both of us were the type that would fade into the background. But people liked her. I think she was bullied here and there, and I was, too. Then she got into the partying and was popular with some of that crowd. But nobody was mad enough at her to do anything. Besides, that was a few years ago. I don’t know about now.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have any idea.”

  “You mentioned issues with her mom. Was there anything going on there that would have her mom so mad she’d want to go do something to Nicole?”

  Her jaw droppe
d. “You don’t think Mrs. Lockwood did anything, do you? I mean, they didn’t get along, but I don’t see her mom doing that. Mrs. Lockwood was nice enough to me. Nicole said her mom had kind of a rough background, and I know she was young when she had Nicole, but I don’t think she would do anything to her.”

  “Do you know if her mom was in any kind of trouble, or in any bad relationships with men?”

  “Oh, you mean like a boyfriend that would’ve gone after Nicole?” She mulled that over, then shook her head. “No, nothing like that. To my knowledge, her mom never really dated after Nicole’s dad left, and I never heard Nicole talk about other men around the house.”

  “Anything else you can think of? Anyone in Nicole’s past who might’ve wanted to kill her?”

  She glanced at her phone. “No, I can’t think of anyone. I feel really bad about all of this, and if I think of anything, I can let you know. I haven’t talked to Nicole in a long time, and I don’t know what she was up to, or who her friends were. Sorry.” Another glance at the phone. “I have to meet somebody for a study session. I have to go.”

  I gave her my card. “I really appreciate your taking the time to talk to me right away. And if you do think of anything else, please give me a call.”

  “Yeah, I will. Nicole got in with the wrong crowd. I always wondered if something bad would happen to her. And it did.”

  Her eyes grew wet and she swiped at them. She stuffed her book into her backpack, got up, and hurried away without another word.

  Chapter Twelve

  As I was walking back to my car, Oakley called.

  “Hey, returning your call,” he said briefly. His voice is a little nasally, and even though he’s lived in Colorado for some time, he still has a bit of a Boston accent, where he drops his ‘r’s.

  “Rizzo said to give you a call.” I wasn’t sure how he was taking the directive to get my help, so I was careful in my approach. “He said you’re taking some heat from Chief Follett on your homicide investigation.”

  “Yeah, this thing has kind of exploded on me.” He didn’t sound too happy. I heard noises in the background, then he said, “Hey, it’s almost lunchtime. You want to grab a bite to eat somewhere and I can fill you in?”

  It was a little after eleven, and his question made me realize I hadn’t eaten anything in hours. “Lunch sounds good. I’m at Auraria now, where are you?”

  “I’m not too far from there. How about we meet at Brewery Bar II? It’s off Santa Fe. Turn west on Third and go partway down the block. You can’t miss it.”

  “Perfect, I’ll see you there soon.”

  “If you get there first, get a table. It can get busy at lunch.”

  “Will do.”

  I ended the call and hurried to my car. The sun was high in a cloudless sky and it was getting hot, which was making me sleepy. The walk in the fresh air was helping, but I would need more caffeine soon.

  The Auraria Campus isn’t too far from the brewery Oakley had suggested for lunch. I hopped on Kalamath Street and headed south. It only took me a few minutes to get there.

  “Welcome to Brewery Bar II,” a hostess said with a big smile. “Will you be dining alone today?”

  “No, I’m meeting someone.”

  “Okay. I can show you to a table now if you’d like, or you can wait in the bar.”

  “A table would be fine.”

  She grabbed menus and walked with perky steps to a table in the corner. I wished I could steal some of her energy. A waitress came by and I ordered coffee, then sat back and looked around while I waited for Oakley. The bar had a southwestern flavor, from the adobe walls outside to the rich, reddish-brown painted walls. Mariachi music played softly overhead. While I waited, I called Yolanda Ortiz. After a few rings, a soft voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Yolanda?”

  “Yes?” In the background, a little girl talked. “I’m on the phone, hang on a second.”

  “This is Detective Spillman.”

  “Oh, Tracy texted that you might call. She told me about Nicole.” Before I could begin questioning her, she said, “I haven’t heard from Nicole since high school. Tracy said you’d be asking all kinds of things.”

  “Well,” I said, but couldn’t finish.

  “I didn’t have a clue what Nicole was up to in high school,” she said. “I told Tracy if I did, she’d hear about it, and she figured that was true.” The little girl asked something else, and Yolanda gently shushed her. “I knew Nicole was screwing things up, the partying was getting out of control, but beyond that, I don’t know what she was up to.”

  “You don’t know anything about her seeing an older man.”

  “Nope. I heard that from Tracy, never from Nicole.”

  “And you have no idea who might’ve wanted to kill Nicole?”

  “Nope,” she repeated. “Nicole got in with a different crowd, and we hardly talked anymore. I don’t even know if she graduated.”

  “Do you have any other friends who might be able to tell me what Nicole had been doing recently?”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  At least that was different from “nope.” Just to be certain, I ran through the rest of the questions I’d asked Tracy, but Yolanda didn’t know anything that seemed helpful. I thanked her for her time and ended the call. I nibbled on chips and salsa that a busboy dropped by and watched the door. Oakley walked in a minute later, greeted by the perky hostess. Oakley’s of average height, stocky, with the beginnings of a paunch around his middle. He looked around and saw me, shook his head at a question the hostess asked, and walked over. He pulled out the chair and it screeched loudly on the tile floor. He sat down before saying anything.

  “I suppose I should say thanks for meeting me, but I’m not too sure what’s going on,” he said.

  I nodded. “I get that. No one likes to be told they’re not cutting it.”

  “Man, I’m hungry.” He loaded a chip with salsa and popped it into his mouth. “This is a great little place. Good Mexican food. They have great chili rellenos.”

  “I have a favorite Mexican restaurant, but I’m always willing to try someplace new.” Carson Welch had worked at that restaurant, Tres Hermanos, and I hadn’t been able to go back there since the night I’d killed him.

  The waitress came over and Oakley ordered a Coke. She left, and he jammed more chips into his mouth. After an awkward moment, he looked at me.

  “You must think I don’t know anything,” he said, wariness in his eyes. “To be told you need assistance …” He left the rest unsaid.

  I nodded slowly. “Let’s get this out on the table. I’ve heard good things about you, that you’re smart, and you know what you’re doing. As far as having another detective pulled into your investigation, it happens sometimes.”

  He loaded another chip with salsa. Some dripped on the table. He finally took a bite, and chewed slowly. “Thanks.” He swiped at the spilt salsa with a napkin.

  We waited for a moment. The waitress brought his drink, we ordered rellenos, then I said, “Tell me about your investigation.”

  He gulped some soda, then said, “Male, thirty-five years old. His body was lying next to the Platte River, near some bushes. I was called in, and it looked pretty straightforward.” He scowled, his dark eyes angry. “Drowning of a homeless guy. How easy could that be? He didn’t have identification on him, no money. I have no idea if he’d been robbed or what. It happened late at night, but the body wasn’t discovered until early the next morning by a jogger who runs the bike path that follows the river. By the time I got to the scene, I couldn’t find any witnesses.” He grabbed another chip, shrugged. “I thought that was it, didn’t put too much time into it. Then I find out that the guy was actually the son of Carlton Hall, the lieutenant governor.”

  “… whose friends with Chief Follett,” I interjected.

  He swallowed hard and took a sip of soda. “Yep. What are the odds? I told Follett that it was open and shut, the guy drowned, but he did
n’t believe me.” The scowl remained.

  “What happened next?” I asked softly.

  He pushed the chips away. “I got the autopsy results. Turns out, there was some bruising on the back of the vic’s neck. He also had a couple of broken fingernails.” He let that sink in.

  “So now it looks like it’s not an accidental drowning, but a forced drowning,” I said.

  “Yep.” He snapped his fingers. “That fast, we went from an accident to a murder. And I hadn’t given it much thought, had dismissed the case and was ready to move on.”

  “It happens.”

  “Sure it does, but this one goes all the way up to the Chief of Police. He’s not happy with me at all.”

  “He’s not too happy with me, either. Not that that would make you feel better.”

  He chuckled. “I heard he wanted Hackman to work with me, not you. No offense.”

  “I did, too. But you’re stuck with me.”

  Now he smiled. “You have time for it?”

  I nodded. “I’m finally back in business, and I’ll make the time. Tell me more about the murder. You said the body was found on the Platte, but where?”

  “There’s an overpass at Mississippi Avenue. The body was about ten yards north of it, on the east side of the river. Some of the homeless people sleep down there, and that’s where he was.”

  “You said there weren’t any witnesses?”

  “Correct. I don’t know if somebody was around and saw what happened, and they don’t want to talk, but we spent the better part of a day questioning the people who hang around that area. We couldn’t find anybody who would admit to being there that night. Near that overpass, it’s mostly businesses, and we checked for surveillance cameras, but didn’t come up with anything. Then, when I found out we had a murder on our hands, I went back and spent more time talking to people around there. No one saw or heard anything.”

  That sounded similar to everyone we’d talked to around the Princeton Motel. No one knew anything. “Where exactly was his body found? Describe the scene to me.”