When the Wolf Prowls

by Vanessa Prelatte

  “My cousin. ‘Lucky’ is his nickname.”

  Rafe glanced at Dawn before answering. “We’re not sure, Mr. Lozier. Your cousin’s name came up in our investigation. We’re trying to locate him, ascertain his present whereabouts, and arrange for an interview with him. That’s all.”

  Godfrey Lozier began to swivel gently in his chair. “You didn’t answer my question,” he observed. “So I guess I’m going to have to repeat it. Is Lucky in trouble?”

  “Our investigation is ongoing, Mr. Lozier. We can’t really give you any details about an ongoing investigation.”

  “I see. In that case, I really can’t give you any details about my cousin.” He arose from his chair. “This meeting is over. I’ll call my assistant and have her show you out.”

  Dawn and Rafe remained where they were. Rafe responded to Godfrey’s command by observing, “Now that could be interpreted as obstruction of justice, Mr. Lozier. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

  Instead of answering the question, Godfrey Lozier responded, “Maybe I should call our company attorney. You could thrash it out with him.”

  Rafe sighed. The last thing he wanted to deal with at this point was a lawyer. He decided to put his cards on the table.

  “If you’ll sit down again, Mr. Lozier, I’ll give you as many details as I can without compromising the investigation,” he said.

  Lozier slowly sank back down into his massive chair. He steepled his fingers and said, “I’m listening.”

  Rafe gave him the barest outline he could of the events that had taken place that morning. Godfrey Lozier listened carefully before responding.

  “Look, you’re on the wrong track. There’s no possible way Lucky could have done what you suspect him of.”

  “Are you saying that you don’t think Lucky has it in him?”

  “No. I’m saying that he’s just too darned lazy to have had anything to do with this particular situation.”

  “You care to elaborate on that?”

  Godfrey Lozier sighed. “Let me draw you a picture of my cousin Lucky. He’s worked for this company for several years, ever since he graduated from college. He made it through college by the skin of his teeth, by the way. Majored in Health and Physical Fitness, squeaked by with C’s. He failed a number of classes and had to retake them in order to graduate. It took him five years to get his degree. He didn’t care. His father was footing the bill, and he was having a whale of a good time. His whole life was one big party, and that’s just the way he wanted it.”

  “Interesting,” Rafe replied. “I have a question for you, though: If Lucky, as you call him, is so unmotivated, why did you hire him after he finally graduated from college?”

  “His father is a major stockholder in the company,” Lozier answered with obvious reluctance. “I hired Lucky and continue to keep him on the payroll in exchange for his father’s support. If I were to fire him, I’d lose that support. And it would make a critical difference. So I give my cousin office space and make sure that he shows up occasionally. If he wants to sit in the office and play computer games all day, fine. It’s worth it to me.”

  Rafe shook his head after Godfrey had concluded his explanation. “I’m sorry, but none of this convinces me to exclude your cousin as a suspect. In fact, it makes him a more probable suspect. His open schedule means that he could have done everything we suspect him of, and nobody would miss him.”

  This time it was Godfrey who was shaking his head. “You don’t understand,” he said. “Your suspect beat two women, shot a police officer, and hiked off into the woods. Lucky would never do that. His laziness extends to all aspects of his life. He never walks anywhere, let alone goes hiking. Just to give you an example: his parents have a house on Lake Granby. To get to the lake from the house, you have two choices. You can drive farther along the road and make a couple of turns, which takes about ten minutes. The other way you can get to the lake is to take a footpath from the cottage down to the beach. It’s a two minute walk. My cousin, however, drives his car the long way around rather than take the path. It’s too much effort, he says.”

  Noticing that Dawn and Rafe still looked skeptical, Godfrey continued, “Another example of Lucky’s laziness concerns his relationships with women. He’s had tons of girlfriends, but they always break up with him. Not because he’s mean to them or anything. The major complaint they have is that he’s too lazy to put much into the relationship. His girlfriends always have to take the initiative.

  “On top of that, Lucky would never even think about buying a gun or learning how to shoot one. Lots of us in our family go hunting, fishing, and camping, but Lucky hasn’t come along with us since he was a kid. Too inconvenient, too much work.”

  “Okay. Let’s say that’s true. If he’s not here at work today, where would he be? What’s your best guess?”

  “If I had to take a guess, I’d bet he’s staying with a friend of his who’s got a house closer to your neck of the woods.”

  “How close to our neck of the woods?” Rafe asked.

  “The house is near Marden’s Creek, just to the north of Mountpelier.”

  “And the friend’s name?”

  “His name is Moss Rainwater. Moss is just like Lucky. He thinks that life should be one long party. Look, you should also know that Lucky’s parents are on their way here. They booked a flight as soon as the Pueblo police called to tell them that their car had apparently been stolen. I’ve been keeping them updated ever since, so they are aware that the police are looking for Lucky. They should be landing at the airport here in Denver shortly.”

  “They’re flying into Denver?”

  “Yes. There were no direct flights to Pueblo available. They were planning on renting a car here and driving the rest of the way. They’re pretty upset, naturally, but they can confirm everything I’ve told you, more or less.”

  Godfrey arose from his chair. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to cut this interview short. I have a plane to catch.”

  “Thank you for your time and cooperation, Mr. Lozier. We appreciate it,” Rafe said formally.

  Godfrey Lozier inclined his head. “I hope my cousin turns up soon. Believe me when I tell you that it’s impossible that he’s the man you’re looking for.”

  Back in the car, Dawn turned to Rafe. “What do you think?” she asked.

  Rafe shrugged. “I’m liking Lucky as our perp more and more every minute, despite Mr. Lozier’s protestations. His last known whereabouts place him in the general area of the crime, and no one has seen him since last night. I’m going to put out an all-points-bulletin on him.”

  Once Rafe had called in the APB, they decided to drive south from Denver to the nearest rest area on I-25. The manager of the rest area was more than willing to pull the security tapes from the night before. However, there was no sign of anyone resembling the perp on the video feed.

  Just as they were about to return to their vehicle, a call came in from Mountpelier P.D. Rafe took the call and grunted a couple of times before disconnecting. Turning to Dawn, he said, “That was Terramanni. He and Gulkana were patrolling the Yellow Pine Parkway when they spotted Lionel Wakely’s car.”

  Dawn exhaled deeply. “That’s good news. I’m looking forward to having a chat with ‘Lucky’.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “What direction was he traveling in?”

  “He was driving south, so I’m guessing he was heading toward Denver. Anyway, when Terramanni and Gulkana signaled him to pull over, he flipped them off, floored the accelerator, and tried to outrun them. He started weaving in and out of traffic, trying to shake them. But our boys kept up with him and called for back-up. When the back-up arrived, they boxed him in, hauled his ass out of the car, and arrested him for reckless driving. And here’s the kicker: when they turned him around to put handcuffs on him, he shoved one of them and kicked another in the shin. So they added resisting arrest and assaulting an officer to the charges.”

  “Nice. That
should give us some leverage when we have him in Interview.”

  Chapter 7

  When Dawn caught her first glimpse of Lionel “Lucky” Wakely, the word that flashed through her mind was dapper. From his perfectly cut trousers to his snappy black blazer to the silk scarf knotted around his neck, he presented a picture of well-healed ease. She and Rafe were in Observation, watching him through the one-way mirror.

  “What do you think?” she asked Rafe.

  “I don’t know,” Rafe replied. “There’s some resemblance to the sketch of the perp. But – he just doesn’t strike me as the sort of guy who’d shoot a police officer and then make a trek into the wilderness to elude pursuit. That has to be weighed against the fact that he was arrested in the general area where it all went down.”

  “If he knows the area, despite being from Pueblo? He could have made his way to his friend’s house, gotten a change of clothes out of the friend’s closet, picked up his own car, and been on his way back south in the time allotted. It all fits, except…” A frown furrowed Dawn’s brow.

  “Except it begs the question – if Lucky drove up here in his own car from Pueblo, how and when did he get his hands on the Wakelys’ stolen car?”

  “Yeah, that’s the hitch. But still, there could be a way.”

  They both turned as the door opened and Lieutenant Westbrooke walked in. “The parents are here,” she announced. “The lawyer is on the way. He’ll be here shortly. And he insists that he wants to speak to his client in a different location. Apparently, he thinks we’ll eavesdrop on them from here if he questions his client in the regular interview room.”

  Rafe lifted an eyebrow. “What’s the plan, LT?” he inquired.

  “I’ve offered to let him speak to his client in my office. You two are going to escort him up there.”

  “Your own office? Now you’ve got me curious. Why are you being so accommodating, LT?”

  “His parents are raising the roof,” Lieutenant Westbrooke admitted. “Threatening lawsuits already, swearing they’re going to raise a ruckus in the media. All they have to do is suggest in the media that we denied their son his right to a private conference with his attorney and most people will believe it. And besides – I want to watch his reaction when he encounters his parents in the outer offices. Who knows? Maybe he’ll slip up and say something useful to us.”

  “If he does say anything, would it be admissible in court?” Dawn asked.

  “Sure,” Lieutenant Westbrooke responded. “We can’t question him now that he’s asked for attorney, but if he chooses to speak without any prompting from us? Yeah, we can use it.”

  “What about the privacy issue?”

  “Ah, that’s the beauty of it. Does a person in a room full of cops have a reasonable expectation of privacy if he chooses to blurt something out? I think not. And I’m sure any judge would agree.”

  When Dawn and Rafe walked into Homicide, escorting Lucky, a man and a woman who had been seated in a couple of chairs near Ralph Sokoto’s desk jumped up immediately.

  “Baby!” the woman shrieked. She raced over to her son and threw her arms around him. “I was so worried. Are you all right? Have they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Nothing to worry about. I’m sure this whole thing is just a great big mistake on the part of the police.”

  “Why are you in handcuffs? That’s outrageous!” Turning to Rafe, Mrs. Wakley said, “I demand that you remove those handcuffs at once. At once!”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” Rafe responded. “It’s standard procedure to handcuff a suspect when he is being transported from place to place. I’ll take the handcuffs off as soon as his lawyer gets here and we get him settled in the lieutenant’s office.”

  “You’re describing my son as a suspect? A suspect in what?”

  Rafe began to respond, but broke off and began to cough. So the father turned to his son.

  “What’s going on here, Lionel?”

  “Nothing important, Dad. I was speeding, that’s all.”

  Dawn addressed the father. “It’s a little more than that, sir. When the officers flagged your son down, instead of stopping as required by law, he sped up and tried to elude them.”

  “Is that true, son? Why would you do such a thing? Why didn’t you just pull over?”

  Lucky shrugged. “I don’t know. I just didn’t feel like it, I guess.”

  “You just didn’t feel like it? What kind of an answer is that? There’s got to be more to it.”

  “Well, I –”

  “Don’t say another word.” The command came from a short, dark man, carrying a briefcase. Addressing Dawn and Rafe, he said, “How dare you question my client after he invoked his right to an attorney?”

  But Rafe was shaking his head. “You’re way off-base, sir. The record will show that the only people questioning your client have been his parents. We haven’t said a word to him since we walked into the room.”

  “We’ll see about that. I was told that I would be able to consult with my client in a private office. Take us there at once, please.”

  “Certainly, sir,” Rafe said smoothly. “Right this way.”

  After they’d settled Lucky and his attorney in Lieutenant Westbrooke’s office, Dawn and Rafe exited and closed the door behind them. As soon as they re-entered the outer office, however, Lucky’s parents pounced on them.

  The father began with, “I might as well notify you right now that I plan on suing you people for false arrest.”

  “You can try it, Mr. Wakely. But don’t you think that it would be a good idea to hear all the evidence first?”

  “Nonsense,” the mother chimed in. “Whatever my son did, I’m sure that it wasn’t bad enough for those traffic cops to arrest him. The very idea!”

  “Well, I’m sure that his attorney will let you know if you have a case,” Rafe said. “Meanwhile, would you mind if I asked you some questions about your car?”

  “The one that was stolen?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I don’t understand why you want to talk to us. We were told that somebody took our car and used it in the commission of a crime. We were in Florida and know nothing about it. What can we possibly tell you?”

  The husband, who had been scanning his cell phone, interrupted her. “Don’t say anything else, Jane,” he commanded.

  “Why not?”

  “Because they don’t think that some stranger took our car. They think that Lionel took it, and he’s the one who committed the crime.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” Turning to Rafe, Wakely said, “I just checked the news. A police officer was shot by a suspect who escaped the vicinity. Two women were found in the trunk of the car he was driving. One of them is dead. The other is in the hospital. Tell me the truth: was it our car?”

  “I’m afraid so, Mr. Wakely,” Rafe acknowledged.

  “In that case, we have nothing further to say to you. You want to interview us, we want our lawyer there. End of story.”

  When the lawyer had finished consulting privately with Lionel, Dawn and Rafe escorted them both back into Interview. After going on the record, Rafe began with some routine questions.

  “Okay, Lionel – or do you prefer to be called ‘Lucky’?”

  “Yeah, call me Lucky. Only my parents call me Lionel. Stupid name. Can’t stand it.”

  “Lucky it is, then. To start with, Lucky, can you tell us the last time you checked on your parents’ house and their car?”

  After getting a nod from his lawyer, Lucky responded, “Uh, I guess it was a couple of months ago. Maybe a little bit more. I remember checking in there just after New Year’s.”

  “So you haven’t been in your parents’ house or driven their car since early January?”

  “Yeah – that’s right.”

  “Very good. Next, can you give us an account of your whereabouts for the last twenty-four hours?”

  “Well, I left my condo yesterday afternoon and drove up here
to visit a friend.”

  “What time, exactly, did you leave Pueblo?”

  “About two o’clock, I guess.”

  “What route did you take?”

  “I took Interstate 25.”

  “And what car were you driving?”

  “My own car, of course.”

  “So, what time did you get to your friend’s house?”

  “At about six or so.”

  “And your friend’s name?”

  “Uh – if you don’t mind, I’d rather not give her name.” Lucky cast his eyes down and refused to meet Rafe’s gaze.

  “Why not? Is there a problem?” Rafe asked.

  “Yeah, you could say so,” Lucky muttered. He finally looked up again and explained, “The friend I spent the night with – well, she’s married. Look, can’t we just leave her out of it?”

  “I’m afraid not. You want us to clear you, you’re going to have to give us a name,” Rafe pointed out.

  After glancing at his lawyer, who gave him a nod, Lucky answered reluctantly, “Her name is April Vanadian. But look, can you keep it to yourselves? I’d hate for the press to get wind of this.”

  “We’ll do our best. But we can’t make any promises. Now, you say you spent the night there. Were the two of you together the whole time?”

  “Yeah, the whole time. April can vouch for that.”

  “Okay. Now, what about this morning? Can you walk me through that?”

  “April and I got up and had breakfast. Then I said goodbye, got in my car, and headed for our offices in Denver. I was driving along, minding my own business, when suddenly a police car signaled me to pull over.”

  “Why didn’t you pull over immediately?”

  “My client isn’t going to answer that question right now,” the attorney interposed. “I need some time to confer with him about the charges relating to his arrest.”

  Rafe pushed back his chair and got up. Dawn followed suit.

  “No problem,” Rafe told the attorney. “You go ahead and talk with your client. In the meantime, my partner and I will go and check out his alibi.”

  On their way out the door to interview April, Dawn and Rafe heard a voice calling, “Young man!” They kept walking. Then they heard, “Sergeant Melbourne!” They stopped this time and looked around. Lucky’s mother was hurrying toward them.