by Doug McCall
“And this all leads you to believe...what?” Ross said, shifting the position of his legs.
Scallion was amazed how thin it all sounded when telling it, no matter how convinced he was. “That the girls, and probably the contractor, are buried beneath the lake. I think Luther Kritz did them all, buried them with Lamb’s own equipment, then forced Valvez to help move the vehicles.”
“Forced him? How?”
“I’m pretty sure Valvez was illegal at the time. He admitted Kritz has done a lot to help him over the years. His boss probably held the threat of turning him in over his head, until he was able to get his citizenship. And then there was Valvez’s reaction each time I mentioned the girls. Wendell, you know I’ve always been able to read people, follow their thoughts.”
Ross had found a serious tone. “Yeah, okay. But you still haven’t connected Brand, or the woman, to this. Her ID says her name is Ginger Howard, by the way.”
Scallion next described the homeowners’ meeting, and the panic Ktitz showed at the threat of having the lake disturbed. “I think he would’ve silenced the guy right then and there if there weren’t a couple of hundred witnesses around.” Seeing the other detectives letting it sink in, he continued. “After the meeting broke up, I talked with Brand. He said he was mystified by the developer’s reluctance to convert the lake to income-producing property. Said it wasn’t true to Kritz’s nature.”
Ross and Sadler exchanged looks that indicated “maybe”, but said nothing.
“Let me take a wild guess here, guys,” the Cold Case detective said. “Now, I’m not trying to weasel my way into your case here, but were there signs Brand knew the perp?”
After a pause, Sadler answered. “Could be. Whoever did it ripped out an intercom system in the hall.” He gestured in that direction with his head. “It’s the type with a recorder inside. Brand most likely let the guy, or guys, in by releasing the gate from here. Probably wouldn’t have done that less he knew the person.”
“And the perp was afraid the tape had his voice, probably even his name recorded?” Scallion finished the theory.
“Right,” Ross agreed. “but it could’ve been anybody Brand knew.”
“Found any prints? Any possible DNA specimens?”
“Not yet. But it’s early still.”
“I’m also guessing none of the neighbors saw or heard anything?”
“Nobody we’ve talked to yet. This house is the last on the drive. It backs up to another complex behind it. We’ll be talkin’ to those folks too.”
Scallion was about to continue when Otto Howorth entered the kitchen, evidently finished with the media’s countless questions. His expression was anything but pleasant. Eyeballing his three detectives gathered at the table, his gaze lingered on the older man, squinting at his get-up.
“Sorry, Otto,” Scallion said, feeling almost naked. “ I wanted to get here before everybody left. Didn’t have time to change.”
Howorth squeezed his handlebar between his fingers, then rubbed a hand across his face. He looked tired, obviously exasperated by the Saturday night interruption. “Damn it, Pete. Are things so boring in Cold Case you have to go looking for action on the weekend?”
Ross and Sadler smiled with satisfaction at Scallion, but Wendell then came to his former partner’s defense. “Pete’s convinced our murders are related to something he’s working on. We were just comparing notes.”
“Oh?” Howorth squinted again at Scallion. “What case is that?”
“It’s the one Denny and I talked to you about last week, Otto. The missing girls—and Luther Kritz.”
The sheriff appeared puzzled by the sudden news. He shook his head. “How in the hell...? On second thought, never mind. Save it ‘til Monday morning. I want all three of you—Murtaugh too—in my office. We’ll hash things out. I’m too beat to digest it all now. In the meantime, Ross, you and Sadler follow up with whatever you have, including anything Pete’s told you that might be useful. I’ve told Maurice Brand we’ll have things wrapped up in a few days. Don’t make me out a liar.”
Before Howorth could make his exit, Maurice Brand suddenly entered the room. Removing the dark glasses, he scanned the faces of the others. His grief now appeared to be changing to anger, the friendly salesman look they had all seen on tv ads for years twisted into rage. His thick, silvery hair was dislodged from its normal swept-back, perfectly in place existence.
“Gentlemen, I want whoever did this found and punished. Kevin and I have had our differences over the years. But he was my son, and I loved him, just as much as anyone would love their children.” Pausing, he softened his tone only slightly. “If any of you can find my son’s killer, I’ll be eternally grateful.” He was about to continue, but emotions began to take hold. “Sorry, Otto,” he said to the sheriff, “Just needed to speak my piece.” Replacing his sunglasses, he walked slowly from the kitchen, careful to avoid looking at his son’s bloody crime scene.
Watching the grieving man leave, Otto Howorth took a last look at the detectives, then at the scene in the house, then followed Brand out.
When the two were out of earshot, Scallion said, “Trust me, Wendell. You guys need to take a look at Kritz.”
Sadler rose to return to the great room, concentrating again on the pictures, assuring himself all angles were documented. He made a few more notes.
“We’ll do that, Pete,” Ross said. “By the way, I should’ve asked before. How’s Marti doing?”
That was the thing about Wendell. Although his caustic tongue could wear you down to the point of annoyance that was sometimes hard to take, his true spirit would eventually surface. It was the only reason they had co-existed for as long as they had.
“She says she’s okay. Don’t know if that’s for my benefit, or if she really feels that way. She starts radiation therapy next week, so maybe we’ll know something for sure soon.”
Ross nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. He shifted his stance again, apparently stiffening-up standing in place. “Well, here’s hoping things go well. Tell her hi for me, will you?”
“Sure thing, Wendell. Thanks.”
Ross turned away, taking baby steps as he left the kitchen. Scallion didn’t attempt to hide one last grin at the expense of the man’s delicate situation.
22
Scallion kept a close eye on his partner’s mood, while trying to concentrate on the discussion getting cranked up in the room. After several delays, caused by clearing the schedules of the people involved, the Monday morning meeting had finally kicked-off at 10:30. Sheriff Howorth’s office was the gathering spot.
Ross and Ladner had taken seats on the sofa across from Howorth’s desk, with Ladner helping his partner ease into position. There was no way Wendell was going to embarrass himself by standing while the others sat, especially considering who the others were. The Cold Case detectives sat in chairs on opposing ends of the sofa. A third visitor’s chair had been brought in for an invited guest. Corrine Baker was an assistant D. A. in the Harris County District Attorney’s office. The sheriff had asked for someone in the D.A.’s office to attend, wanting to bring the prosecutor up to speed on what was to be discussed, plus get an opinion on what was needed to produce indictments, if any could be justified.
Before heading upstairs for the meeting of the minds, Scallion had filled Murtaugh in on the Saturday night visit to the crime scene, and his sharing of information with the homicide officers.
“Wasn’t trying to short-circuit you, Denny. Just didn’t want to ruin both our weekends.”
“No sweat. I was kinda tied up all day Saturday myself.” Murtaugh offered no other details about his weekend, but Scallion judged it had something to do with the daughter. Whatever it was, it was clearly wearing away at the man.
Howorth was getting the meeting underway. “I think you all know Corrine. I’ve asked her to join us to try and keep our noses clean.” He nodded toward the woman.
She returned the nod, looking around the ro
om at the detectives. “I appreciate the chance to be brought in. Mr. Whitlow’s already received two calls from Maurice Brand. So, we’re as anxious to solve Kevin Brand’s murder as you are. Let me know what I can do to help.” Whitlow was Brach Whitlow, the Harris County D. A.
Scallion sized-up the attractive young woman. He knew of her work, but had never met her. Five years removed from U T Law School, possessing medium height, brunette hair pulled back in a bun, with piercing blue eyes, she had gained a solid reputation for her courtroom prowess. He could admire and appreciate her work now, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. Private practice would soon be calling, as it did for any sharp attorney passing through the prosecutor’s office with skills in arguing cases. His admiration would then cease, as she would no doubt be battling just as hard to free the sort of people she was now so anxious to help put away. His mind wandered for a second to his future daughter-in-law, Lori. This could be her in a few short years; it was a sobering thought.
The sheriff took his favorite position, leaning with his legs crossed against the front of his desk. “Let me start by giving an overview, Corrine. Denny and Pete here,” he said, nodding in their direction, “are working on a cold case dating back ten years or so. Four young women disappeared without a trace, their vehicles found scattered over an area west of town. Turns out—and we didn’t know this until recently—an excavation contractor from Austin County vanished in the same manner, on or about the same day. These guys have been able to put all five at a development out west named Cypress Bridge Acres on a Friday afternoon or early evening. It was the last place and time they were known to be alive. Unfortunately, no one, not friends, family, or anyone else was aware the women were going to Cypress Bridge for an apparent job interview.They all had various reasons, I suppose. If we’d known they were all there, we would’ve had a place to start.” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “Their theory is that all five were killed by someone at that site, and they’re leaning toward Luther Kritz, the developer.”
“Oh?” The woman raised her dark eyebrows, looking at Scallion, then at Murtaugh. “Why is that?”
The senior man was only too happy to let his partner speak for them, nodding in his direction.
Scallion turned to address the assistant D. A. “After interviews with Mr. Kritz himself, plus an employee of his, we’re sure he was the only person who had any interaction with the victims at the site.”
“What did Kritz say about his contact with them? I assume you asked him about that.”
“Right. As far as the women were concerned, they were being hired to sell lots in the development—it was just getting started then. He had discussed their duties with them, told them to report back Monday, and they all left at the same time. Said they were talking about meeting at a restaurant for drinks. He didn’t know which one.”
Baker pursed her lips, nodding. “Sounds reasonable. And the employee corroborated his story?”
“Not exactly. He simply repeated the same story told to him by Kritz. He never saw the women himself.”
“I see. And the man...the contractor?”
“Pretty much the same scenario. Kritz said he paid the man, whose name was William Lamb, in cash for the week’s work. Lamb was to pay his men sometime over the weekend. He left and never came back the following week. His theory, or rather his story, was that he was afraid Lamb had gone on a drinking binge with the money. In fact, the man’s truck was found parked at a bar eventually. Again, Carlos Valvez, the employee, could only say he had been told the same story by Kritz. He didn’t see the man leave himself.”
Corrine Baker scratched her chin with medium-length nails, painted red. “I can see why you might be suspicious. Two separate parties vanishing at the same time, from the same spot. And there were no other witnesses who saw them there? Or anywhere else in the area?”
“I can answer that,” Ladner chimed in. “I was part of a team that investigated the girls’ disappearances back then. We canvassed the entire western portion of Harris County, plus Austin, Waller, and Fort Bend counties, several times. Talked to everyone and anyone, especially restaurants. No one could recall them.”
Ladner paused, then added, “By the way, there’s no record of Kritz ever reporting the missing girls had been with him that Friday night...either to us or HPD.”
Scallion jumped in, looking at the woman. “Plus, the fact no restaurants in the area could recall seeing them that night kinda debunks Kritz’s story about them headin’ to happy hour.”
She nodded slowly before asking another question. “The vehicles you mentioned. I assume they were wiped clean.”
“Yes. No prints, or any other pieces of evidence, only soil residue that could’ve come from anywhere in the Houston area,” Ladner answered.
“What about Mr. Lamb’s vehicle?”
Otto Howorth jumped in before anyone else could answer. “Same deal there, Corrine.” He cleared his throat. “This part’s a little embarrassing. There was a lack of communication between us and Austin County officials. Since we weren’t made aware of his vanishing back then, it wasn’t tied-in to our girls. According to Sheriff Amos over in Bellville, Lamb’s truck wasn’t found as soon as the others. So it was investigated as a single case under the previous sheriff’s jurisdiction. Not sure it would’ve made any difference, but looks bad now.”
The woman was listening intently, but seemed to be considering something. “Let me back up a minute. Since no one knew the girls were going out there, and there was no record of Mr. Kritz reporting he had seen them, how did you discover they had been there?”
Scallion spent a few minutes re-tracing his steps, starting with the tip from Chip Luna, then the trip to Staff Finders, followed by the mileage check on Laura French’s car. All of which led to the interviews with the developer and his employee.
Baker nodded slowly, absorbing it all. “I’m impressed. But I have to say, even though your suspicions seem reasonable, your case is weak on evidence, as well as motive.”
She was right, Scallion realized. Each time he told his story, or at least his half of it, the problems with it became more pronounced. Motive was a concern.
His thoughts were interrupted by the woman. “When do we get to the part about Mr. Brand?” She was addressing the sheriff.
Howorth folded his arms across his chest, focusing on Scallion, who seemed to be the spokesman for the Cold Case detectives. “I’m kinda anxious to hear this part myself.”
“Last Wednesday night, the same day Denny and I laid out our case on Kritz to you, Otto, I decided to attend a homeowners association meeting out at Cypress Bridge Acres.”
The sheriff’s eyes widened, his head tilted back, an expression clearly inferring, “Why?”.
Scallion read it. “Don’t ask me what made me decide to go. It was just one of those feelings I get from time to time, Otto. I had seen the notice for the meeting on an earlier visit out to the place. It indicated important business was to be covered, so my curiosity was aroused.” Feeling five sets of eyes staring, he paused for a second. “During the meeting, Kevin Brand made an appearance to give a presentation, one he had requested to give. He announced he was in talks with Kritz to form a partnership involving his interest in the development, plus new ones that are planned. But he strongly stressed his investment in the venture would be based on doing away with the lake near the entrance of Cypress Bridge, and replacing it with homes for sale.”
He paused to gauge the reaction of the others. “I think we’re all with you so far, Pete,” Howorth said. “Go on.”
“Kritz was there too. Maybe he attends all of them. Don’t really know about that. But Brand’s talk really upset him, made him take the floor himself to argue it down, seemed to see it as a threat of some sort. His point was the lake was an important part of the complex, and under no circumstances should it be tampered with.”
Evidently recalling Scallion’s theory from earlier in the week, Howorth seemed to grasp the significance, slowl
y nodding. The assistant D. A. and the two younger detectives held blank stares, waiting for more.
“How’d the homeowners take to the idea?” Howorth asked.
“Not so good at first. But I think several started turning when Brand spelled out a few financial advantages to the property owners. Lower assessments, reduced insurance costs, things like that. I think Kritz saw the mood changing. That’s when he really got upset, said he’d never let it happen, then stormed out of the meeting.”
“Hmm. I see what you’re getting at,” the sheriff said.
Wendell Ross, who had been sitting quietly for a longer period of time than normal, couldn’t resist. “Pardon me, Otto. But I don’t.” He looked at his old partner. “Pete, I think it makes good sense for the man to protect something he’s obviously attached to. What’s the big deal about a crummy lake?”
“That’s just it, Wendell. I don’t think he has any feelings for the lake. After the meeting ended, I hung around and talked to Brand about Kritz’s stance. He said the man has never let anything stand in his way of building more houses, making more money. It was totally against his nature. His reluctance had him mystified.”
“Then why the hell did he build it in the first place?”
“Most likely to attract the early buyers. It was a selling point at first.”
Murtaugh snapped out of his funk long enough to say, “I’ve had dealings with Luther Kritz in the past, Ross. Trust me, he’s not the sentimental type.”
Corrine Baker suddenly waved a hand. “Wait...wait a minute. Are you suggesting Mr. Kritz had Kevin Brand killed because he didn’t want the lake disturbed?”
They all looked at the woman, each surprised by the bluntness of the question, but for different reasons.
“I’ll take this one, Pete,” the sheriff said, raising his hand to stop the detective. “That’s precisely what he’s saying, Corrine. You see, the theory Pete and Denny are working with is that Kritz killed the four women and the contractor back in ninety-one, then buried them in the lake bottom. It was still just hollowed-out ground then. He finished dredging out the lake, probably using a new excavation company, then filled it in.” He paused, taking a read on the reactions of the others. “Now, cut to today. Kritz can’t afford to have the lake messed with. His crimes would most likely be unearthed. So it’s entirely possible he saw he had no choice in making sure Brand didn’t follow through with his idea.”