“Just like he did you, except for the head shot.”
Josh cut his eyes to hers. “Thanks for the reminder. But I did see the bullet coming at me. That’s something, I guess.”
“It’s called respecting your enemy because you know what he’s capable of doing.” Sensing Kiya’s presence, Skye tuned in to the vibe. “I’m seeing a man who fits the same description at Sharon’s house. Our backyard phantom is a White male. Five-eleven. Brown hair. Brown eyes. I wish I could run that through facial recognition.”
“Gotta be an actual photograph. You know that. All the DNA from Gedmatch will do is get us a better composite sketch we can use to circulate through the downtown area where Jennifer was snatched and maybe the Phinney Ridge neighborhood. Chasing our tales again with nothing concrete.”
“But why risk killing a cop unless Lakin was on to something seriously significant? You don’t take a chance like this if you’re just pissed at the guy. What are we missing?”
“A big chunk,” Josh supplied. “Let’s go upstairs. I’m sure that’s where he was hiding. Lakin probably never even made it that far. The guy was tired after a long day and sat down to eat in front of his TV. A single guy coming in late just wants to catch a little SportsCenter on the tube.”
The images from Kiya were stronger on the second level. Skye went through the scenario. “He must have been lying-in-wait, heard Lakin come in from the garage, knew he had stopped in the kitchen to grab something to eat. The guy was patient. All he had to do was wait until Lakin put his gun away, got settled, and let his guard down. Lakin never saw it coming.”
“I’m with you. I still don’t get taking out a cop.”
“We need Lakin’s case notes. That’s the only way to know. Which begs the question, did Lakin have time to track down any leads after we left him standing in the parking lot?”
“He must have.”
She put a call into Harry’s burner phone. “Any word yet on Lakin’s case notes?”
“You’re rushing it. Are you inside the house now?”
“Standing in his bedroom. The living room is still too disgusting to look at, the smell of blood still hanging in the air.”
“Well, you’re in luck. My guy in homicide sat in on the meeting this morning to catch Lakin’s killer. He tells me they went over Lakin’s notes and it revealed some interesting facts. Lakin was a busy guy after he found out the Nissan was stolen. A deeper background on Sam Baker’s past showed he’d been arrested as a teenager for boosting cars. He wasn’t exactly the clean-cut student you might’ve thought he was. Anyway, turns out, the Nissan VIN number on the dash had been tampered with. It wasn’t until the lab got to work on breaking down the car that they discovered the real VIN number. It belonged to a vehicle that was totaled down in Sonoma County.”
“California? Interesting. So someone was trying really hard to hide the car’s true identity?”
“Yep. Apparently, Lakin latched onto this information, got an old address for Baker and set out to learn more. He came up with a list of Baker’s old housemates back at UDub about the time the car was reported stolen.”
“You’re telling me Baker was still living on campus and going to school?”
“Nope. He never lived in campus housing. He lived in a rather nice house off campus with four other roommates. Lakin set out to interview them last night, tracking them down one by one.”
“Do we know how far he got on the list?”
“He didn’t enter that into his notes. But I can get you a copy of the roommate list.”
“That’d be great.”
“You’d think so, huh? Just remember, someone on this list took Lakin’s life, so be careful.”
Skye ended the call and looked at Josh. “You heard all that?”
“Yeah. Four suspects just rocketed to the top of the list.”
“We pick up Lakin’s thought process and check out these guys. Let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps. But when we leave here, make sure we aren’t followed…by any kind of car…at all.”
“You got it. Trust me, I’ll take measures to ensure we don’t lead him to the safe house.”
****
The gray mist couldn’t hide the dark waters churning below the cliff with angry waves as the black sea rolled over the rocks. Wind, blowing fierce from Vancouver, knocked him back a step as he pivoted to scan the tree line and the vast forest of evergreens.
He remembered staying at the cabins as a child, sprinkled in among the clusters of vacation homes that jutted out from the wooded hillside. Tonight, the landscape rose and fell as his boat raced on, traversing the western shoreline near Copalis Beach.
It used to be his favorite spot in the world, even more so than the place where he’d grown up. But he had memories of this place. Bad ones.
An unqualified person might gaze upon these natural wonders with feelings of awe and respect for what Mother Nature had to offer. But to a boy who’d seen his mother murdered here, this was the complex puzzle that kept whirring around in his brain. The puzzle pieces fit together to tell a story about the dysfunctional family dynamics that had shaped his mind, shaped it for so long that it seemed like he had never known anything but that.
An angry father, abusive to everyone around him. No one could predict the man’s moods, certainly not his mother who tried to protect her offspring and failed miserably at the job. But he didn’t blame her. She’d done the best she could. The miserable son of a bitch that had put the idea of blood and gore in his DNA was responsible. And one day he knew…he would probably see him again…burning in hell. He told himself it was fitting. He was glad his mother wasn’t around to see him now.
****
Later that night alone in her room with no toddler to tend to or husband to distract her, Skye sat cross-legged on the bed and studied the list of suspects Harry had sent her.
Every now and again she’d look around and take in the bedroom so unlike the one at the farm. She preferred her own farmhouse décor, the stuff she’d picked out might be rustic or even considered unsophisticated, but it reflected the things she loved in life. Nature. Growing things on her own. Simply tastes. She missed her own bed. No amount of fancy trappings could turn her head when it compared to having her personal things around her.
But like everyone else, she had to make the best of her surroundings. She wasn’t the only one who preferred being in her own home.
Focus.
There were four names on the list. Lance Davis. Michael Hardwick. Eric Nunley. Adam Taylor. Next to each name was their last known address.
Sounded easy enough, Skye mused. The first rule of investigating anything was that nothing was ever what it seemed. One of these guys might’ve killed Lakin. One of these might be the one who murdered a string of other people as well, the victim count building.
Josh strolled in after having beers with the guys. “You look serious?”
“Hunting a killer tends to make me serious. How are the guys?”
“Upbeat. Brayden asked to go with us tomorrow to talk to these former roommates of Baker.”
“That’s not happening.”
“That’s what I told him,” Josh said as he took a seat on the bed next to her and began to nibble her ear.
“Seems like you’re pretty upbeat yourself.”
“All work, no play, makes for a dull time.”
“I’m not sure that’s the way the saying goes.”
“Ever heard of another old saying? ‘Live by the sun but love by the moon.’”
“I forgot how liquor puts you in the mood.”
“You put me in the mood. Always.”
She shoved her laptop to the side. “Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it?”
“Let me show you.”
And for the next hour, he made slow, sweet love to her.
Eighteen
Tanner Trinidad didn’t just fix omelets to perfection, he created fluffy masterpieces. Special orders didn’t upset this guy. He chopped
and diced onions and peppers, sprinkling them into an egg batter that sizzled slowly in the pan. He somehow folded the whole thing and flipped it with one flick of the wrist onto a plate.
“You make it look so easy. I never got the hang of that,” Skye admitted. “I worked for years behind a grill, but someone else always had to make omelets.”
Tanner smiled. “It’s not that hard. I’ll show you how before you leave.”
“Really? That would be great. When I try it, the whole thing always looks too shiny, and the egg doesn’t look all the way done.”
“Typical novice mistake happens to us all until we cook about a hundred of them.”
Skye took a sip of her coffee. “This tastes like a Christmas blend.”
“Fresh ground beans laced with my own special blend of cinnamon and nutmeg.”
“You’re a wonder.”
“It’s nice having people to cook for.”
“What do you do when people aren’t staying here?”
“I live in this beautiful place and take care of it. From the flower beds to the kitchen.”
“You like to garden?”
“I grow my own herbs and fresh vegetables out back.”
“We have something in common.”
“You’re a gardener? Gardeners have gentle souls.”
“I try to be a gardener. I won’t discuss how much of mine doesn’t it make it through a season. I’m thinking of building me a greenhouse.”
“I just assumed you were some kind of policewoman undercover.”
Skye’s lips curved at the idea of that. “Policewoman? Not me. I was told once I didn’t have the temperament for it. They were right. I don’t.”
“But you and your team do catch the bad guys, right?”
“We do. Because we’re persistent.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Look, I gotta get going. The omelet was cooked to perfection, but then you already knew that.”
“I did, but it’s always nice to hear praise.”
“You’re right about that. See you later. If the team pesters you about lunch, tell them to bugger off.”
Tanner laughed. “I’ll do that. But I like to cook.”
“My loss then. I’m not sure I’ll make it back for lunch.”
“Next time I’ll throw some sandwiches together for you to take with you.”
“That’d be great. See ya.”
Skye met up with Josh in the grand entry hall. He already had his jacket on and jingling the keys in his pocket.
“What took you so long? Everyone finished breakfast thirty minutes ago.”
“I hung back to talk to Tanner. He said he’d teach me how to cook an omelet without it turning into scrambled eggs. Nice guy.”
He helped Skye on with her coat. “I didn’t think we had time for cooking lessons.’
“What’s up with you?”
“This case is beginning to get to me. It’s been days and we don’t know any more about where Jennifer is than when she went missing.”
“So we’ll talk to Sam Baker’s roommates and see if they know anything.”
Leo came running out of the library and handed Skye a piece of paper. “Work addresses. Harry didn’t provide them. I got where they work on all of them except one. But I checked out finances. These guys all have healthy balances in their checking accounts. Winston said you asked him to come up with a list of people Dave and Lindsey went to school with who fit that bill. All four of these guys certainly do.”
“Thanks, Leo. Keep the info coming.”
“Will do. Stay out of trouble.”
“You got it.”
Their first stop was to talk to Lance Davis, a financial planner for a major brokerage firm downtown. When asked directly about his time rooming with Sam Baker, Lance at first was reluctant to tell them anything.
It took some prodding and charm on Skye’s part to get him to cooperate. “Look, we have a missing woman. Her mother’s frantic to find her. Jennifer Mack is her name. Do you happen to know her?”
Lance shook his head. “No. But I saw her mother on TV, though.”
“We’re checking out all leads. And we need your help. Yesterday, your former roommate Sam Baker’s body turned up in a stolen Nissan, a car that was reportedly stolen back in 2013 in Sonoma County, California. Sam Baker went to UDub the same time you were there. You lived with him for a time. What can you tell us about him? What kind of person was he?”
“That’s why you’re here? To talk about Sam? I heard he went missing around that time. 2013, I believe. But I wasn’t living with him then. I’d moved out. I made sure I got away from that whole scene.”
“Do you remember who actually owned the house you lived in at the time?”
“Sure. Eric Nunley owned it.” Once Lance’s memory began traveling down that road, he didn’t seem to be able to shut up about why his stay there had been brief. “If I’d known what Sam and Eric were up to at the time, I’d never have moved in there in the first place. I found out two months in that they like to boost cars for the thrill of it. I didn’t want any part of it, and neither did Adam or Mike.”
“That’s Adam Taylor and Michael Hardwick, right?” Josh confirmed.
“Yeah. We love to party, sure, had people over all the time in this big house, but getting involved with a den of thieves was not my idea of freshman year. No way. My parents would’ve killed me if I’d so much as lifted a wheel rim. And I told the guys that whenever they wanted me to tag along on one of their joy rides.”
“How long were you there? In the house with Sam and Eric?”
“Entire first year. Housing away from campus was hard to find. I had to wait until the school year was over and start looking ahead for my sophomore year to find anything that was half as nice. I didn’t get nearly the kind of place I had, but at least I wasn’t afraid of the police raiding us in the middle of the night.”
“Did it seem like Sam and Eric were serious about going to school?”
“Not really. They both were trust fund babies. I mean, they once bragged they’d never really ever have to work for a living. The rest of us didn’t have that luxury. I needed to make good grades to get a decent job. And here I am making good money. If I’d stayed around Sam any longer than that, I’d’ve probably ended up dead like he did.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because of the stupid stuff they used to do. Sam and Eric tried to kidnap this guy once for a joke. They didn’t hurt him or anything, just roughed him up and scared him, but they kept him locked up in a closet for almost three days. Back then, those two pulled some idiotic shit that would’ve freaked anybody out.”
“So tell me something, Lance. Would you be willing to give us a DNA sample to eliminate you as a suspect?” Skye noted the fear that flickered behind his eyes.
“What?” Lance stepped closer and glanced around to see if anyone had overheard the question. He lowered his voice. “You think I had something to do with a missing woman? No way. I’ll give you DNA or whatever because I don’t want to be connected to Sam Baker or Eric Nunley ever again.”
Skye spotted the Coke can on his desk. “Mind if I just take this then?”
“Sure. Go ahead. Just don’t come back here accusing me of something I didn’t do.”
Skye slipped the soda can into a baggie while Josh handed off a Foundation business card. “If you think of anything else, give the Foundation a call. A woman’s life is at stake.”
Lance shifted his feet. “Okay. I do have a question. Why do you think Eric would have anything to do with your missing woman? I mean the guy is filthy rich.”
“We don’t. Again, we’re just following up on certain leads. Sam Baker is our biggest break so far, and that led us to you and all the other roommates. We just wanted to know more about him. Thanks for your help.”
But as soon as they settled back in the minivan, Skye turned to Josh. “Kidnapped a boy and locked him away in a closet? Is that usual college prank behavior?”
&
nbsp; “I wouldn’t think so. Maybe this Eric Nunley turned on Sam at some point and killed him, kept him frozen all this time.”
At Michael Hardwick’s law office on the west side, the attorney told them a similar story standing in the lobby. “I got out of there as soon as I could because Sam and Eric were just plain crazy.”
“How so?” Josh prompted.
“I remember a night they talked all of us into going for a joy ride in Eric’s new car. But somewhere along the way, these guys decided to pull out handguns, 9-millimeters, I think. They drove up and down Broadway shooting at anything, mostly street signs, but still...I was afraid I’d get arrested. My parents were never wealthy, and they’d sent me to school to learn and get ahead. You know, succeed. I didn’t need Sam and Eric’s kind of crap in my life. The next day I packed up my stuff and got out of there. I moved into an unfinished basement at my sister’s house in Madrona. That’s how desperate I was to leave. The commute was horrible, but I wanted out of there so bad. I wanted away from these guys. I would’ve lived in a tent just to get away from them.”
“Do you know where Nunley is now?” Skye asked. “He’s the one guy we don’t have a work address for.”
Michael frowned. “You’re kidding, right? I doubt Eric even has a job. He was always flush with cash.”
“Where did he originate from? Was he a Washington native?”
“I don’t know about that. Eric never really came out and said where he lived before, but I know his dad was uber rich. Maybe he lost it all, I don’t know. I hope so. The guy was a royal asshole.”
Skye put the same question to the lawyer. “Would you be willing to help us out by giving us a DNA sample?”
The guy wasn’t thrilled to do it, but eventually, he agreed because, like Lance, he wanted nothing to do with Sam Baker and Eric Nunley.
When they tracked down Adam Taylor at his job as a curator for the Museum of Natural History, he confirmed all the other stories. “Sam and Eric were like brothers, but oil and water, you know. One day they’d be all about getting along and the next, they’d be in each other’s faces, arguing like they hated each other. It was like watching bipolar opposites try to make it through the day without killing each other. The house was fantastic, but it wasn’t exactly a great place to study. I always had to go to the library to get any peace at all. Maybe that’s why it was no surprise to me when Sam went missing. When I heard about it, my first thought was, Eric probably broke and finally did something to him.”
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