Dead By Dawn

by Juliet Dillon Clark

  “I’ve watched that woman on TV. She looks just like the age progression that Jeremy had done,” Robert said persuasively.

  “But so do a lot of women,” Lindsay argued. “If we can find out how and why your daughter was killed, we can find out where Kelly is.”

  “I understand. So far, we have nothing,” Robert said sadly.

  “Then we keep looking.”

  Lindsay drove home feeling down about what Robert Doran had said. He was right. They really didn’t have any leads.

  Jeff was out of town, so Lindsay picked Evan up at her mother-in-law’s house and drove home. After finally getting him to sleep, she pulled out the file and looked through it again. There were two old fingerprint cards in the file. Technology was different back when the murders were committed. Now that there was a national database, maybe she could have her old partner, Ray Karns, run them through the system for her. She put that on her list of things to do and went through all of the neighbors statements. No one saw or heard anything. The investigator’s notes said that Bing Taylor was a ranch hand for the Davenport’s and they couldn’t locate him for questioning after the murders.

  Tomorrow she would see what became of Bing Taylor.

  Chapter 17

  Lindsay packed Evan up in the morning. She drove down to her old station. Ray Karns was sitting at his desk, discussing a case with his new partner. As soon as Lindsay walked in, Ray got up and took Evan from her. “Look how big he’s gotten.”

  Ray introduced Lindsay to his new partner Kyle Winters. Kyle was tall and fit with dark hair and dark eyes. He was also about fifteen years younger than Ray. Ray was obviously mentoring his new partner. Ray saw the file in Lindsay’s hand. “What’s up with that?” He pointed to the file.

  “Just some work to keep me busy,” she said.

  “Work that you need my help on?” he asked slyly.

  “No wonder you’re a detective,” she said in a chiding voice.

  “What do you have?” he asked.

  She laid the file on his desk. “A homicide from the seventies. A couple killed in their home. Two of the kids were taken. One was found dead; the other, still missing.”

  “What do you need from me?” Ray asked.

  She handed him the fingerprint cards. “These prints were lifted from a bag of pot that was left in the home.”

  “You want me to run them?” he asked.

  “If you can.”

  “I will do it. Anything else?”

  “Can you see what you have on a Bing Taylor?”

  He handed Evan back to Lindsay and sat down at his desk and ran the name in the computer. “Bing Taylor was murdered,” Ray said.

  The surprise was evident on Lindsay’s face. “When?”

  “It looks like his body was found in Kern County. Out in the desert near Tehachapi,” he said. “You want me to call and get details?”

  “I would like that a lot,” Lindsay said. “I’d like it even better if you could get a copy of the file and see if it was ever solved.”

  Kyle Winters was listening to the conversation. “I tell you what. Why don’t you guys go get some lunch and catch up? I’ll make the calls,” he offered.

  “Thanks.” Ray said. “Where are you taking me princess?”

  Kyle Winters made some calls. By the time Lindsay, Ray, and Evan got back from lunch, the files had been faxed. “You are a miracle worker,” Lindsay said.

  “Just used my charm,” Kyle said smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  “Isn’t he great? He uses that on the ladies all of the time. Women just can’t resist him,” Ray said, rolling his eyes.

  They all laughed. “Whatever works,” Kyle said.

  Lindsay read through the paperwork sent over by the Kern County Sheriff ’s Department while Evan was passed around the squad room.

  “This guy’s body was found ten days after the murders in Shandon,” she said. “He wasn’t killed where he was found. This was a body dump.”

  Kyle came over with a piece of paper. “Here, this was the last of the file. It was on my desk.”

  She looked at the piece of paper he handed her. “This is a list.” She read the items out loud.

  “1. Kill adults

  2. Find the docs.

  3. Leave kids in the house unharmed.

  4. Meet at the opera house in S.F. and exchange money and docs.”

  “Your murder was a hitman,” Ray said.

  “And not a very good hitman if he needed a list,” Kyle added.

  “From the sound of it, something went wrong. The kids died and this guy ended up dead,” Ray chimed in.

  “Well, at least I have a place to start. I was at a dead end,” Lindsay said. “I need to find out more about Bing Taylor.”

  ***

  Lindsay loaded Evan and the new files in the car and drove home to Calabasas. They stopped at the store and she bought ribs to bar-b-que for dinner. Jeff was coming home from his business trip.

  “Did you have a good trip?” she asked. She walked in with Evan in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other.

  Jeff walked over and took Evan from her. “Good. I think he’s going to be one of the top draft picks.”

  “How’s your investigation going?” he asked with interest.

  “I was floundering and Ray helped me out. I have a lead to follow now,” she said.

  “Good. At least this is keeping you busy.”

  “Jeff, what do you know about Tracy’s parents?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “Robert Doran asked me about her,” Lindsay said.

  “Because of the picture?” Jeff asked.

  “Yes, because of the picture,” she paused and added. “How did she end up with her grandparents?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve met them several times. It’s never occurred to me to pry,” he said.

  “Would you mind if I asked?”

  “I really wish you wouldn’t. She’s a private person,” he said.

  “I can respect that. I was just curious,” she said. She poured sauce onto the ribs to marinate. “How about you fire up the grill and cook these while I make the salad?”

  “You have a deal,” he answered.

  Chapter 18

  Lindsay was expecting Dixon Calhoun to call with the arson investigator’s update. What she didn’t expect was the news that came with it.

  “The coroner is back out at the crime scene. They found another body,” Dixon said.

  “Where was this body found?” Lindsay asked in a stunned voice.

  “The crime techs were sifting through the area that the baby’s remains were found in. When he dug down a little deeper, there were more remains. They think it is the body of a young woman,” he answered.

  “So, both bodies were buried underneath the house all of these years?” she asked.

  “It appears so,” Dixon said.

  Lindsay thought for a moment. “The police searched the house and property thoroughly when the Davenports were murdered, right?” she pondered out loud.

  “They should have,” Dixon answered.

  “So, were the bodies placed their after the Davenport murders?” she asked.

  “Before,” he said confidently.

  “How do you know that?” she asked, surprised that he answered so quickly.

  “There was a decomposed purse buried with the woman. She had identification,” he said.

  “Who was she?” Lindsay asked excitedly.

  “Leticia Carlson. She lived in San Luis. She had a baby girl the approximate age of the baby found buried with her,” Dixon said.

  “Does she have any next of kin that are still alive?” Lindsay asked.

  “A brother in Toluca Lake,” he answered.

  “Give me his name. I will talk to him,” Lindsay said.

  “The police have already notified him.”

  “How long ago did she disappear?”

  “1953,” he answered.

  Lindsay whistled. “That’s a long t
ime ago. Any idea what happened to her?”

  “The coroner says there was evidence on her skull that she was hit in the head,” Calhoun said.

  “Was there a husband?” Lindsay asked.

  “The brother, Fred Carlson, says no. No one knew who the baby’s father was,” he said.

  “He didn’t have any idea?” Lindsay asked.

  “I don’t know if anyone pressed him about it,” Calhoun answered. “I think the officer made notification and briefly asked a few questions. I don’t think anyone pushed the man for answers.”

  “I’ll see if I can talk to him today,” Lindsay said.

  “Keep me posted,” Dixon said and hung up the phone.

  Chapter 19

  The house in Toluca Lake was an older Spanish-style home. Toluca Lake was a tree lined, affluent community located near the movie studios. Many of the residents were executives who worked in nearby Burbank.

  Fred Carlson answered the door. He looked like he was in his late 60s or early 70s. He had a full head of gray, shoulder length hair and a gray beard. His hazel eyes were full of life. He was tall with the lanky, muscular body of a runner. He wore a polo shirt and shorts. He invited Lindsay in.

  She started, “As I explained on the phone, I’m a private investigator working for Jeremy Davenport. He is the owner of the property your sister’s body was found on.”

  “I understood that. I have lots of questions for you.”

  “Can I go first?” she asked politely.

  “Yes, what do you want to know?” he said.

  “When did your sister disappear?”

  “May 6th, 1953. She had just turned 18 the month before,” he said.

  “She was young to have a baby,” Lindsay remarked.

  “She had Janell right before she turned 17,” he said.

  “Do you know who Janell’s father was?” she asked.

  “My sister wouldn’t tell my parents,” he said with a sigh.

  “Did you suspect anyone?” she asked.

  “A couple of people,” he said. He ran his fingers through his thick hair and added. “She was running with a rich crowd back then. My parents thought it was either the Davenport kid or his friend, Van Buren.”

  Lindsay sat up in her chair. “Do you mean Charles Davenport?”

  “Yes, that’s who I mean. That brings me to one of my questions,” he said. “Is your client related to Charles Davenport?”

  “Yes, Jeremy Davenport is Charles’ grandson.” She let that sink in for a moment and then asked him another question. “Is the friend Martin Van Buren?”

  “Yes, that was his name,” Fred answered. “Both families were powerful families when we lived in San Luis.”

  “So, you think that one of those men was Janell’s father?”

  “Yes, my parents thought that. My sister was getting money to take care of the baby from someone,” he said.

  “Did your parents ever approach either family?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Charles father was a powerhouse in the community and Van Buren’s father was a judge. I think they would have been afraid to do anything with people like that. My parents were nice, simple folks,” he said.

  “How did you know that your sister was getting money from someone to take care of the baby?” she asked.

  “My dad mentioned once that an envelope full of cash would arrive in the mail every month, addressed to my sister. He got curious one time and opened it.”

  “Did anyone report your sister’s disappearance?” Lindsay asked.

  “Yes, my parents did. Letty lived with them,” he said.

  “Did the police look for her?”

  “Hardly.” He snorted. “When my parents mentioned that she ran with Van Buren and Davenport, they backed off.”

  “They told you that?” she asked.

  “No, my parents just said that the sheriff wasn’t putting much effort into it.”

  “Do you think those men were involved in her disappearance?”

  “Only that the money stopped coming,” he said.

  “The cash every month?” she asked.

  “Yes, there was never another payment after she disappeared,” he said.

  “In retrospect, it looks like someone knew she was dead,” Lindsay stated.

  “Yes, you could say that, now that we know she was dead,” Fred acknowledged.

  “Did you know either of the men?” Lindsay asked.

  “I knew them from high school. Both of them were a couple of spoiled pricks,” he said. “Davenport was always a bully and Van Buren was his side kick. They were arrogant and pushed people around.”

  “Either of them get into trouble with the law?” she asked.

  Fred paused and thought for a minute. “Not directly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I seem to remember something about some trouble they got into in high school. Someone got hurt. The word was that one of the Davenport’s ranch hands was involved. I think he took the fall for something the boys did,” he answered.

  “Do you know any details?” she asked.

  “I can’t remember anything,” he said.

  “Do you know his name?” she said.

  “No, I don’t,” he said. Then, his face lit up. “I do remember that the guy’s boy was in our class and he worked at the ranch too.”

  “I might be able to track him down,” she said. “That must have been hard on your parents with your sister having a child out of wedlock.”

  “It was. Things like that just didn’t happen back in the fifties. My parents were embarrassed.”

  “Why didn’t they do more to find out who the father was?” she asked.

  “I think they knew it was one of those boys. At the time, they were both married,” he said.

  “But your sister was underage when she had the baby.”

  “You just didn’t go around making accusations like that without proof. Letty wasn’t talking,” he said.

  “Do you have an old yearbook?” Lindsay asked.

  “I might have one in the study,” he said and smiled. “It would be an antique.”

  Lindsay laughed at his joke. “Do you think you could point out the kid you think may be the ranch hand’s kid?”

  “Sure, let me grab it,” he said. He got up from the chair and went to another room in the house. Several minutes later, he came back with the San Luis yearbook from 1950. He scanned through the senior class and pointed out Charles Davenport. He moved through the rest of the pictures and stopped at the ranch hand. His name was Bing Taylor. His picture was right next to Martin Van Buren’s in the alphabetical listing.

  “This is him,” Fred said. “This is the guy who worked at Davenport’s ranch.”

  Chapter 20

  Lindsay drove home, excited that she may have a link to the murders. There was too much coincidence that Bing Taylor’s name had surfaced twice now. She called Dixon Calhoun and told him about the conversation with Fred Carlson.

  “Some coincidence that his name is involved with all of the victims,” Dixon said. “What now?”

  “Who is handling the murder investigation on the two bodies found at the ranch?” she asked.

  “Taylor Kragen. He’s out of the office but, I’ll call him and give him your number,” Calhoun said.

  Ten minutes later, Kragen called her. “Calhoun tells me you were one hell of a homicide detective. I understand you may have some info on the Carlson case,” he said.

  Lindsay laughed. “He exaggerates. I may have something. I talked to the victim’s brother. He says that his parents always thought that Charles Davenport or Martin Van Buren may have been the baby’s father.”

  Kragen whistled. “Big names around here.”

  “I was hired to look into the murders that happened in nineteen seventy seven. The only survivor is looking for a sister that he thinks may be alive. Those two names came up as well, as a Bing Taylor.”

  “Is Taylor alive?” he asked.

  “N
o, he was found murdered out in the desert shortly after the murders in ‘77,” she said.

  “Well, I’ll be talking to the family that owns the property tomorrow morning,” he said.

  “You are coming to Los Angeles?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “I was hired by the Dorans. Would you mind if I sit in?” she asked.

  “I would be open to a second set of eyes and ears. Meet me at their home at nine o’clock,” he said.

  ***

  Detective Kragen was not what Lindsay expected. He looked like a computer nerd. He was a small, thin man with a crew cut. His dark hair and dark eyes were a stark contrast to his very pale skin. His skin was so pale that he looked he might burn if he stayed in the sun more than five minutes.

  When Lindsay sat down with him and the Doran’s at their dining room table, she ogled the ocean view from the window. Martha Doran noticed and commented. “The view is beautiful in here. It’s my favorite room in the house.”

  “Yes, it is lovely. Especially, on a sunny day, like today,” Lindsay answered.

  Martha offered everyone coffee and fresh baked cinnamon rolls. Detective Kragen started his interview. “How long have you owned the property in Shandon?”

  Robert Doran answered, “Since the 70s. We invested in it with our daughter and son-in-law.”

  “My understanding is that you lost your daughter on the same property. Is that correct?” Kragen said delicately.

  “Yes. We were surprised by this development. The property seems to be cursed,” Robert Doran answered tersely.

  “I have to ask. Did you know anything about the bodies on the property?” Martin asked.

  “Nothing,” Robert answered.

  “Did you know Letty Carlson?” Martin asked.

  “No. We didn’t live in that area,” he answered.

  “I know you hired Ms. Carter to look into the possibility that your granddaughter may still be alive. Some names came up in conjunction with that,” Martin said. He sipped his coffee. “You know Charles Davenport?”

  “Yes, we were in-laws,” Doran answered.

  “Did you know him before your daughter married his son?” Marin asked.