Crimes of Memory (A Detective Jackson Mystery) (31 page)

River heard shouting and turned. A white media van parked in the street just beyond the patrol-vehicle barricade, and a blonde woman argued with a uniformed officer.

River’s phone beeped and she opened another text:
Video going live soon. KRSL.

“Oh hell.” She showed the message to Fouts, then Miller.

“We need to keep the station from airing it,” Miller announced. “It’s the only leverage we have to get some hostages released.”

“Good luck with that.” River glanced at the white van. “I’ll bet that’s a KRSL reporter. If she has video, her station will run it. We need to negotiate for the release of some hostages now.”

Miller prepped a little remote-controlled unit, sent it up the walkway to the door, and handed the corresponding microphone to River. “Let’s see how you do.”

River spoke softly, knowing the sudden intrusion of a loud voice would startle the eco-terrorist. “Russell, this is Carla River with the FBI. I’m here to help you accomplish your goals.”

The wind died at that moment and an eerie silence enveloped the scene. River held up her binoculars and watched the curtains on the occupied room. A hand clutched one edge in the center, then pulled it back enough for the person to peek through. A quick look was all he needed. The hand disappeared and the curtains came back together.

River tried again. “Russell, there’s a mobile unit outside the front door with a cell phone. Grab the phone and call me. I want to help you and you need to talk to me.”

Another long silence. The door didn’t open. Finally, River’s phone rang. An unknown number. “Agent River here.”

“This is Russell Crowder. Sophie gave me your number.”

Yes!
He was communicating. “I’m glad you called. This is an unfortunate situation, but we can resolve it, if you let me help you.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I was a homeless teenager once. I know what you’ve been through. And I know you don’t really want to hurt anyone.”

“Not true. I want Ted Rockman to go to jail. Or maybe burn in hell.”

“If he assaulted you, I will press charges against him, no matter how long ago it happened. But you have to let the other hostages go.”

“Not yet.”

“What are your demands, Russell?”

“I asked Ted Rockman to burn down his factory and make a public video confession of sexually assaulting me.”

Good glory.
“You can’t really expect him to burn it. That would be dangerous.”

“He already gave his foreman the order. I’m just waiting for the pictures to prove it’s done.”

That might be a long wait
, River thought. “What about the confession video?”

“He recorded it and Sophie sent it to the TV station. But Rockman is still denying to me that it happened. So I don’t have closure.”

River understood that need. “Some people never admit their guilt, Russell. You have to find closure another way.” She grabbed her computer and clicked open her browser.

“That’s not what my therapist says.”

Miller, the EPD crisis negotiator, mouthed
hostages
. River ignored her. “I think your therapist might be wrong. What if Rockman won’t tell you he’s sorry? How long can you stay in there? And do you really want to blow up three innocent women? That’s not who you are, Russell.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Anyone as concerned about the environment as you are is also concerned about people. Your grievance is with Rockman. You need to let the other hostages go.” River googled KRSL. The website showed a broadcast of Russell talking on the phone. The video had been made with a handheld camera, probably from a cell phone. Was Sophie recording and sending out everything?

“Why should I?” Russell said.

“Because you want to escape, don’t you? You want us to let you out of there? We can’t do that unless you send out the hostages.”

“I’ll send out one and think about the others.”

“Think about what I said about closure too. You don’t need Rockman’s admission for closure. You just need to make peace with who you are. Maybe even forgive him.”

“I’ll call my therapist and see what she says.” Crowder clicked off.

CHAPTER 31

Schak arrived with a search warrant, and Jackson eagerly climbed from his car. He was tired of being cooped up and ready to find some tangible evidence that Jenna Brennan had killed Craig Cooper. He wanted to wrap up the hardest part of this case so he could focus on his daughter. Jackson’s heart went out to Jenna. She was only a couple years older than Katie, yet emotionally much younger. He doubted if Jenna fully understood what she’d done, and he wondered how the district attorney would handle the case. With murder, DAs liked to charge anyone over fourteen as an adult. And Jenna had lied to the investigators, indicating she understood she had something to hide. Jackson hoped the family could find a decent attorney to work pro bono. Maybe Jenna’s therapist could testify to her mental condition and emotional immaturity.

The house was locked as expected.

“Busting open the door would be so easy,” Schak said. “These old trailers give like cardboard.”

“I don’t think it’ll be necessary.” Jackson looked around for a spare key and found one under a ceramic bunny in a planter box.

Schak looked disappointed. They went inside and Jackson called Evans and updated her.

“You think Jenna is hiding from the police?”

“I don’t think she even knows we’re onto her.”

Evans hesitated. “Should I question Maggie, instead of just leaving her sitting there?”

The original plan had been to wait and question the mother and daughter at the same time, to play them against each other. Jackson wanted information
now
. “Go ahead. After we’ve searched the house, we’ll let Maggie go. Jenna will turn up.”

“Do you think Maggie helped Jenna with the murder or just lied to us about whether Jenna left the house?”

“Throw it at her and see how it goes.”

“I’m on it.”

Jackson turned to Schak. “I’ll start in Jenna’s bedroom. You check closets and storage spaces for the bow and any arrows she might have.”

“Will do.”

Jenna’s bedroom was decorated in lime green and purple, with posters of her favorite movies, one of which was
The Hunger Games
. The room was also stacked with clothing, books, games, and old toys. Not necessarily messy, but it clearly belonged to someone who couldn’t let go of anything. The thought of searching through all of it overwhelmed him.

Where would she keep a bow-and-arrow set? If she hadn’t tossed it when she got rid of the hay bale she’d used for practice.

Jackson searched the closet first, sorting through old coats, Halloween costumes, a hula hoop, roller skates, and various other recreational items. At one point, he dislodged a karaoke machine from the upper shelf, and a pile of sweaters and CDs crashed
down on his head. One of the disks contained videos of archery instructions. With gloved hands, Jackson slipped the disk into an evidence bag and labeled it. Enough circumstantial evidence could add up to a conviction.

The bow wasn’t in the closet or under the bed, but he found the dark polish in a little lime-colored basket on top of the dresser. Jackson bagged several bottles of polish, not certain of the colors. He would check Maggie’s room and the bathroom too, and bring in every container of nail polish that was even remotely dark.

The drawers turned up nothing interesting, but Jackson bagged all the clothing in the laundry hamper, on the off chance Jenna hadn’t washed the clothes she’d worn Tuesday night and Cooper’s blood might be on her shirt or jacket. He stepped out of the bedroom just to get a break from the bright colors and overwhelming collection of stuff.

Schak was coming toward him. “Nothing so far.”

“I think I’ve got the nail polish.” Jackson pulled out his phone. “I’m calling the ME to see if he has postmortem results for Todd Sheppard.”

“You think Jenna killed Sheppard too because he saw her with Cooper that night?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.” Jackson didn’t get an answer so he left a message.

Schak looked at him. “What now?”

“It’s a trailer with three feet of crawl space under it. I think we should look under the house. But I need to spend a few more minutes in Jenna’s room.”

“Yeah, right. You just want me to do the dirty work.” Schak knew he was claustrophobic.

Jackson gave him a twisted grin. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

Back in the room, he noticed a collection of stuffed animals on the bed. Would Jenna hide something inside her favorite
comfort toys? Only two had zippers, a small orange-striped tiger and a fuzzy pink cat. The tiger was stuffed with white clumpy bedding material, and the cat contained a pair of matching slippers. A large brown teddy bear sat on a little chair in the corner, looking dusty. The stuffed animal was matted with wear, and one ear was torn. The bear looked like something Jenna might have had since she was a toddler. Jackson picked it up, thinking of Katie’s favorite comfort toy, a stuffed panda she’d left behind six months ago when they’d moved out of her childhood home.

The teddy bear felt surprisingly heavy. On reflex, Jackson shook it. Something shifted inside. Thinking Jenna had hidden something from her mother—maybe drugs or a banned movie—Jackson set it down. He pulled a utility knife from his carryall and slit open the stuffed toy along its back side. He’d also cut through a thick plastic liner. Jackson stuck the knife into one of the interior slits and opened up the plastic.

Stacks of cash filled the bear’s belly.

Holy crap.
The bank robbery money. Jackson pulled out a stack and flipped through it. All hundreds. He shoved it back, grabbed his camera, and took various shots of the bear and the money. He wanted to count it as badly as he craved pizza after a five-mile run—but he would log it into evidence at the crime lab and let Joe or Jasmine do the honors.

“Holy shit. Is that what I think it is?” Schak came into the room and stared.

“I think so. It looks like stacks of hundred-dollar bills.”

“Well, hell. I was pretty excited about finding a bow and some arrows stashed under a sheet of cardboard under the house, but you win. This is a better find.”

“The real question is: Did Jenna know the money was here?”

“Wouldn’t she have told her mother? And wouldn’t her mother have spent it by now?”

“Probably.” Jackson realized he’d have to go to his car for a large evidence bag. “I’m guessing Danny Brennan stashed it in the bear nine years ago, then was shot by police detectives before he could grab it and get out of town.”

“I suppose the bank will get it back.” Schak’s voice held a note of regret.

Jackson thought about Katie’s future and the potential cost of long-term therapy and substance-abuse treatment. He buried the thought as quickly as it surfaced. “Yes, it will.”

“Should we count it before we turn it in? Keep the lab people and the prosecutors honest?”

“We’ll count it at the crime lab with several people present. I don’t ever want anyone to question the amount of money.”

Schak gave him a wistful grin. “Sometimes it sucks being one of the good guys.”

CHAPTER 32

Sophie’s hands finally stopped shaking. Russell seemed quite taken with her idea to go public with his demands, and somehow she was slightly less scared now. He just wanted attention for his cause and justice for what had been done to him. He hadn’t threatened to blow them up in a while. Sophie glanced at Rockman. His public confession had been flatline, and so far, Rockman wouldn’t give the crazy young man a personal apology. His denial of the sexual abuse charges seemed sincere, but she knew that didn’t mean anything.

“Are you ready?” Russell asked.

“Sure.” Sophie held up her phone and focused the camera on the man with the bomb. She and Russell stood in the middle of the room, and the other hostages were against the wall. Russell had wrapped Rockman’s wrists in duct tape, but he’d left the women unbound. Sophie hoped to capture a few seconds of video of the hostages without Russell knowing. “We should probably do this in short sections, so the files are smaller and easier to send.”