He left the bathroom and headed for Warner’s office. Two and half more days with the damned stents, then major surgery, during which he could die for any number of reasons, and now an ASAP meeting with the chief. Life was good.
Sergeant Lammers caught Jackson in the hall just outside Warner’s office. She grabbed his arm. “Just a heads up that Elle Durham is Warner’s cousin, so Courtney is like a niece to him. Be careful what you say about her.” Lammers reached for the door. “I hope you have some good news.”
Jackson felt his kidneys bleed a little.
Warner was on the phone when they walked in, and it reminded Jackson to shut his cell phone off. Sergeant Lammers had a reputation for smashing and/or throwing other people’s cell phones if they interrupted her conversation.
Jackson stood while they waited, because he was more comfortable that way. Lammers gestured for him to sit. Chief Warner was a little short and didn’t like people towering over him. The chief finally hung up and looked directly at Jackson. “What the hell is going on with this case? Elle Durham has called three times, and I don’t have any information to give her. She says you don’t return her calls.”
“Her daughter’s only been dead two days, and I have worked round the clock to find out why. I didn’t return Elle’s calls yesterday because I was interrogating suspects all day.” Jackson had tried not to sound defensive, yet there it was.
“What did you learn?”
Jackson suspected the chief knew nothing about his investigation, so he started at the beginning. “Courtney hired someone to kidnap her just for the thrill.”
Warner’s fleshy face scrunched into a scowl. “What the hell are you saying?”
“She arranged and paid for her own kidnapping by a company that specializes in extreme adventures. Her boyfriend, Brett, thinks Courtney did it to get her mother’s attention.”
“You know, Elle is–” Warner stopped, paused, then started again. “I knew Courtney needed some professional help, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”
Jackson wondered if the chief knew about Courtney’s childhood sexual abuse. For a split second, he wondered if Warner was the pedophile predator who’d committed the crimes. It was always a family member or close friend of the family. Just as quickly, he let the ugly thought go. Warner was a good man.
Lammers jumped in. “What happened? The kidnapping went bad?”
“According to all testimony and videotape evidence, the kidnapping went as planned and Courtney was released unharmed around 10 p.m. Tuesday night. Sometime before midnight, she died for unknown reasons. There was an empty asthma inhaler under her body, and her lungs showed signs of oxygen deprivation. It’s possible she simply died of an asthma attack.”
“Oh, that is tragic,” Warner said, looking relieved.
“Her cause of death is undetermined. Courtney also has bruises on her neck consistent with choking. Her boyfriend, Brett Fenton, admits to engaging in choking during sex at Courtney’s request.” Warner started to interrupt, but Jackson kept going. “Courtney also called Brett to pick her up. He says he didn’t go down there, but he also lied to us at first and said he hadn’t heard from her. He’s still a suspect.”
“Is he in custody?”
“He was last night. His lawyer may have secured his release by now.”
“Bring him back in. If that young man hurt Courtney, I want him prosecuted.”
“There’s another wrinkle in this case,” Jackson said, wishing he didn’t have to mention it.
“I’m listening.” The chief leaned forward and Lammers gave him a look he couldn’t read.
“Another young woman, Danette Blake, disappeared Monday morning. She left her baby with a sitter, kept an appointment with her psychiatrist, then simply vanished. Here’s the connection. She and Courtney were both seeing the same psychiatrist. In fact, Danette took Courtney’s Monday morning appointment after Courtney cancelled.” Jackson wished he had a glass of water to wash down the lump in this throat. “My working theory is that ThrillSeekers’ local contract man kidnapped Danette by mistake, thinking she was Courtney leaving the shrink’s office.”
After a full two seconds of silence, Lammers said, “Most criminals are idiots, so it’s certainly possible. What’s your theory about where Danette is now?”
“I think they may have killed her to simply clean up the mistake. The man who contracted for Courtney’s kidnapping is a local named Eddie Lucas. He was picked up last night in Redding, California and is being transported here now. I’ll be able to question him this afternoon.”
“What a mess.” Warner made a point to catch Jackson’s eye. “Don’t misunderstand me, I want Danette’s case solved too, but remember Courtney is your priority. If you think the boyfriend killed her, then sweat him until you get a confession. Let one of your team members interrogate this other guy, Eddie what’s-his-name.”
Jackson nodded and stood to leave. “I have a lot to accomplish today.”
“Keep me updated,” Warner said as Jackson walked out, hands clenched tightly inside his jacket pockets. He hated being told how to run his cases. The idea that Courtney was somehow more important than Danette because of her family’s money was such bullshit. Jackson was pissed at himself for not speaking up and saying so.
“Jackson,” Lammers called out, catching up to him as he strode toward his work space. “Are you okay? I mean, physically. You look a little gray.”
“I’ve had about seven hours of sleep since Tuesday, but I’m fine.”
“When is your surgery?”
He stopped and turned to face her. “Monday morning. I just found out. I’ll be out for the next couple of weeks. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine. I’m confident you and your team will resolve both cases.”
“Thanks. I am too.”
They stood at the edge of the area housing the desks of the violent crime detectives. The desk officer rushed up from the wide hallway leading to the front of the building. “Jackson, an officer has located the car.”
“What car?”
“The blue Toyota on the attempt-to-locate. Officer Lopez spotted it near the university. A young male was sleeping in the vehicle, so she woke him and asked to see his ID and registration. The car is registered to Danette Blake. The man’s name is Josh Wilson and he has a record of heroin possession and petty theft. He says he found the vehicle with the keys in the door and borrowed it for a few days.”
“Where did he find it?”
“In a parking lot on Lincoln Street.”
“Where is the car now?”
“Near 15th and Agate. The officer is still in the area, waiting for instructions.”
“Tell her to watch the car until I get there. Where is the heroin addict?”
“Another officer picked him up and he’s being booked into the jail now.”
“Call the sheriff and ask him to designate Josh Wilson as a no release.” Without the request, even a car thief would be matrixed out of the system in less than twenty-four hours because of overcrowding.
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“What does this mean for you?” Lammers asked.
“It means Danette didn’t drive away from her appointment and abandon her child. It supports my theory that she was abducted from the parking lot of her psychiatrist’s office by the same person who kidnapped Courtney.”
“Let me know if you need more detectives.”
On his way to the university area, Jackson made a call to Evans, who was waiting with Schak in front of Seth Valder’s house. He told her about Danette’s car. “You may have to search Valder’s place without me, depending on what I find and when Eddie Lucas arrives.”
“No problem. Keep us posted.”
Danette’s car fit right in to the college neighborhood with its big vintage houses and environmentally friendly vehicles. Jackson was surprised an officer had spotted the ten-year-old Toyota. Maybe the cop had noticed the junkie sleeping in th
e back seat and got lucky the vehicle was on an attempt-to-locate list. It didn’t matter.
The patrol unit was parked across the street, and the officer climbed out of her car when she saw Jackson approaching. Jackson pulled on latex gloves. If Eddie Lucas had touched the car and left a print…
Officer Lopez, a middle-aged female, limped across the tree-lined street and introduced herself.
“Anything interesting I should know up front?” Jackson reached for the passenger side door, which was near the sidewalk.
“It smells like vomit. Brace yourself.”
“What about the junkie? Did he say anything to indicate he knew the woman who owned the vehicle?”
“No. He was practically incoherent, but he told me where he found the car.”
“Have you searched it?”
“No. As soon as I saw the name on the registration, I knew it belonged to the missing woman. So I called for another officer to take in my arrestee and didn’t touch anything in the car.”
“Good work.”
Jackson put in a call to the crime lab, asking to have the vehicle towed back to the evidence bay. A spring shower came out of nowhere, so Lopez took refuge under a nearby tree and Jackson climbed in the Toyota to conduct a quick search. The stench almost drove him straight back out. The sour vomit smell made his eyes water, so he rolled down a window. Three days worth of junkie garbage littered the front seats and floor: a half-eaten burger, food wrappers, two stolen wallets, now empty, and used needles. The back seat was covered with a dirty blanket and a gray sweatshirt, and the worst of the smell seemed to come from the floor back there. Jackson didn’t expect to find anything that would actually help him locate Danette, but he had to look anyway.
He started with the glove box, which produced all the usual registration and insurance papers as well as a flashlight and a sci-fi paperback. He poked around in the garbage on the floor, grateful he was wearing gloves. He reached under the front seat and came out with a handful of papers. Sifting through them, he found a catalog for summer classes at the University of Oregon, a handout with a list of social services, and a bright yellow flyer with information about the Young Mothers Outreach center.
Dr. Callahan had said someone at the center referred Danette to her for treatment. He wasn’t sure it mattered now. It seemed obvious Danette had disappeared from the parking lot of her shrink’s office. Assuming he could take the junkie’s word for where he found the car. If the druggie was willing to admit he stole the Toyota, why lie about where he found it? Jackson might eventually question Josh Wilson about Danette, but it seemed like a waste of time right now. Unlike meth addicts, who might kill someone for the ten dollars in their pocket, heroin addicts were rarely violent and not organized enough to make someone disappear.
Jackson glanced at the address on the flyer, pocketed the paper, and got the hell out of the car. Gulping deep breaths of wet fresh air, he glanced over at Officer Lopez who was trying to keep a straight face.
“Told you it was bad.”
“You did. Offering me a mask would have been more helpful.” He grinned. “Will you stay with the vehicle until the crime lab gets here to impound it?”
“Of course.”
Back in his car, Jackson called McCray. “How are we doing on the subpoena?”
“Judge Cranston is reading it now. He’s a little skeptical about your mistaken identity kidnapping theory.”
“Tell him we’ve located Danette’s car. A junkie found it in the psychiatrist’s parking lot with the keys in the door, so he stole it. It’s sitting here on 15th and Agate right now.”
“No shit? Your theory is sounding more and more viable.”
Had McCray doubted it? Jackson almost laughed. He didn’t blame him. “Call me and Evans when you have the subpoena, then head straight for the phone company. I want Valder’s phone records immediately.”
Jackson called headquarters. “Have we heard from the Redding Police this morning?”
“Not yet.”
“Get on the phone with the captain who contacted us last night. I want to know when Eddie Lucas will be here. I need to talk to him ASAP.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jackson was anxious to interrogate Seth Valder as well. After his Taser episode and Valium dose, the strip club owner had been in no condition to answer questions the night before. Jackson figured letting the agoraphobic sit in jail for a while would help break him down. Meanwhile, his strategy was to lean on Lucas first and offer him a deal for giving up Valder.
Jackson headed for the outreach center on 17th and Oak. He might as well stop in and check it out while he was in the neighborhood. Until he had Eddie Lucas in custody or a search warrant for Valder’s house, he was on standby.
The Young Mothers Outreach center shared a parking lot with Goodbe Imports. The center was in a small concrete building with windows on the street side only. Jackson vaguely recalled it might have once been a bank. Inside, it smelled of baby powder and the walls had been painted creamy yellow. The back half was filled with computers and tables, and it reminded him of the space at the employment office.
A dark-haired woman in her twenties approached him immediately, and another young woman with a baby in her lap eyed him warily. Jackson realized he was not a typical visitor here and might be causing some alarm.
“Hi. I’m Gwen. How can I help you?”
He introduced himself. “I’d like to ask some questions about Danette Blake. Are you the person in charge?”
She smiled. “I like to think so, but not really. Our director is Elias Goodbe, but he’s not here right now. His assistant, Lisa Harkin, is in her office though. Follow me.”
As they walked into a short hallway, Gwen turned and said, “You’re the second person to come in here asking about Danette. She must really be in some kind of trouble.”
“Who was the other person?”
“A woman named Kera. She had Danette’s baby with her.”
Kera had checked out the center? Once he processed the information, Jackson was not surprised. Kera didn’t sit around waiting for things to happen. She would look for Danette until she had exhausted all reasonable leads. For Kera’s sanity, Jackson needed Eddie Lucas to tell him where the body was buried. He dreaded telling Kera about finding Danette’s car, but he knew hearing bad news was better than a lifetime of wondering. He didn’t know how parents of missing children went on with their lives.
Gwen led him into a small windowless office and introduced him to a woman in her mid-fifties with a gray-white ponytail.
“Lisa Harkin.” She shook his outstretched hand and gave him a warm smile. “Have a seat.”
“Do you know Danette Blake?” Jackson eased onto the wooden chair.
“I did her intake here at the center, so I spent a few hours with her. I can’t say I know her well. I understand she’s missing.”
“She was last seen at an appointment with her psychiatrist. Did you refer Danette to Dr. Callahan?”
“I did. I was very concerned about Danette’s depression and thought she needed professional help. I ran it by the director and he agreed to the referral.”
“You mean Elias Goodbe?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the connection between Goodbe and Callahan?”
“My understanding is they’re friends, but I don’t know how they met.”
“Do you know Elle Durham?”
“Yes. She’s one of our benefactors.”
“What about Courtney Durham?”
Lisa shifted in her chair. “I’ve met her and Brooke. Why? Do you think Courtney’s death is related to Danette Blake’s disappearance?”
“It could be. Does Elias Goodbe know Elle Durham?”
Lisa looked up at the doorway, just as Jackson sensed movement behind him. A man’s voice said, “I’m Elias Goodbe and I should probably be the one answering these questions.”
Jackson stood and turned to face him, noticing Goodbe looked much like his assistant–g
ray, but fit and attractive. Jackson introduced himself. “I would like to talk to you.”
“I don’t have much time, but my office is right next door.”
They entered a slightly larger office with a small vertical window. Jackson had to move a stack of papers from the guest chair before he could sit. Goodbe motioned him to put the papers on the already overflowing bookcase. Jackson thought he smelled stale smoke on Goodbe’s clothes.
“To answer your question, yes, I know Elle Durham. We’re both members of the Chamber of Commerce and we’ve served on committees together. Elle is a wonderful woman who has suffered more than her share of tragedy. I’m sure Courtney’s death is hitting her very hard.”
“Did you know Courtney?”
“She was a volunteer at the center briefly, but I didn’t know her well.”
Jackson thought he detected a flicker of distaste in Goodbe’s expression. “What did you think of Courtney?”
“She was a troubled young woman.” Goodbe paused and looked thoughtful. “Yet she was a good person at heart.”
“What do you know about Danette Blake?”
Goodbe shook his head. “Not much. Lisa thought she was suffering from post-partum depression, so we referred her to Stella Callahan who does some pro bono work for us.” The director clasped his hands together. “I understand Danette is missing.”
“Since Monday. After seeing Stella Callahan.”
Jackson waited, hoping Goodbe would volunteer something. He sensed the director was uncomfortable.
Goodbe finally said, “I wish I could help you. These last few days have been distressful for me personally, hearing the news about these young women. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”
“Do you know Seth Valder?” Jackson tossed it out on a whim.
“No.” Goodbe squinted a little. “Should I? Who is he?”
“He owns Lucky Numbers, a strip club out on Highway 99.” Jackson watched for a reaction but didn’t get one. His phone rang and he flipped it open. It was the department. “Excuse me. I have to get this.”
“A Redding police officer just walked in the door with Eddie Lucas,” the front desk officer reported.
Thrilled to Death v5 Page 18