Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 02 - Secrets to Die For (6 page)

“I’m sorry, but I have some bad news,” the cop said, trying to be gentle. “Your friend Raina was killed last night. I need to know everything you can tell me that will help me find the person who did it.”

Jamie missed most of what she said. Her brain had shut down after the word
killed
. She rocked back and forth, eyes closed, wanting desperately for this woman to disappear.

“Jamie, stay with me. I need your help. When was the last time you saw Raina?”

Shut up
.
Shut up
. Jamie refused to open her eyes.

Her father’s voice broke in. “Answer the question, Jamie.”

“I don’t know.” Crying now, she could barely speak. “Not for a few days.”

“Raina’s grandmother, Martha Krell, says Raina planned to get together with you last night. What happened?” The cop’s voice was not so gentle now.

“I don’t know. She didn’t show up and she didn’t call.”

“Did that worry you?”

Everything worried her. “Not really. Raina is unpredictable. Sometimes she needs space, and I don’t see her for days at a time. We’re just friends.” Why did she say that? It sounded weird, like something she would say about a guy.

“I need to know the names of Raina’s other friends, anyone she might have spent time with lately.”

Jamie began to sob. Beautiful, brave Raina was dead, and Jamie’s pathetic life would go on. It was so wrong.

They let her cry for a while, then her father said, “Suck it up, Jamie. You can grieve later. Detective Evans needs you to be helpful.”

Jamie fought for control.
Grieve later
? She would grieve forever. The questions came at her again.

“Did Raina have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Did she date anyone?”

“No. We have some guy friends, but they’re just friends.”

“Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Raina?”

Jamie shook her head. She wanted to tell the cop about the night in the park, but she couldn’t. It would open doors that needed to stay closed. Raina had brushed off the incident, but Jamie had worried that they had been stalked—and maybe by the rapist who had attacked those other women. Those other lesbians. Jamie couldn’t believe the cops or the media hadn’t made the connection yet. She sure wasn’t going to make it for them now that Raina had been attacked and she was closely associated with Raina. Jamie wasn’t totally sure she was a lesbian, but even if she was, her parents must never know.
Never
!

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Jamie,” the cop prodded. “If it can help us find Raina’s killer, I need to know.”

“I can’t believe anyone would want her dead.” Jamie couldn’t continue. She eased herself down on the couch and wept, her whole body trembling. She felt her own life force draining out through her tears. What would she do without Raina? They had been best friends since senior year in high school. She couldn’t imagine her life without Raina. What was the point of becoming a social worker now? How could she help anyone?

Her mother tried to console her, but Jamie pushed her away. She heard Detective Evans talking with her parents for a while, then the house was quiet. Her parents had gone to their bedroom to talk about her, like they frequently did. Jamie wondered what plan they would come up with this time. Some new idea to send her away somewhere. As if a change of scenery would transform her into a go-getter. This time, she didn’t care. Maybe the attacker would find her and kill her too, then she wouldn’t have to feel this pain anymore.

Jackson sat at his desk in an ugly room crowded with other desks, file cabinets, and a printer or two—but at this late hour, there were no other detectives. The building’s hideous design, which included wooden slats outside the windows, often made him feel like he was the one in jail. He reached into his drawer for a Vivarin. He might sleep for an hour or so later, but for now, he had to stay awake. The Gormans were here at headquarters in separate interview rooms, waiting. Jackson had decided to let them chill for while. After being Tasered, Bruce needed time to start thinking straight again. Cindy needed a moment to ponder the charge of assaulting a police officer. Jackson was prepared to press that charge if she covered for her husband—and to drop it if she told him the truth.

Josh was sleeping in the ‘soft’ interview room they used for kids. It had overstuffed couches and serene landscapes on the wall. The boy had fallen asleep in Jackson’s front seat on the way to the station and had not woken up when he carried him in. Jackson waited for Mariah Martin, Josh’s caseworker to show up, so she could be present when Jackson interviewed the boy. Dealing with children was a political hot button and Jackson tried to be careful. Meanwhile, Schak was preparing the paperwork for two subpoenas, one to search the Gormans’ home and one for a DNA body standard from Bruce Gorman. Evans hadn’t come back from her interview with Jamie Conner, the young woman whose picture was in Raina’s glovebox.

Jackson wondered if Sergeant Lammers had forgotten to call McCray, who had never shown up at the scene or called him. Abruptly he remembered that McCray was on vacation. The seasoned detective had taken his wife to Hawaii for their twenty-fifth anniversary.

Jackson’s phone rang and the front desk officer informed him Mariah Martin had arrived. Relieved, Jackson headed out to the front area, another crowded space separated from the small public entry by a plexiglass wall.

Ms. Martin was short and thick and strikingly pretty even though her eyes were swollen from crying. It occurred to Jackson that the caseworker must have known Raina, at least casually. Now she looked distressed. “Where’s Josh? Is he okay?”

“He’s sleeping. This way.” Jackson moved quickly down the hall, and Martin matched him stride for stride.

“You haven’t questioned him yet, have you?”

“No, I was waiting for you.”

“Good. I want to take him home with me for now. You can talk to him tomorrow.”

Jackson stopped in his tracks and turned to her. “This can’t wait. A young woman was been brutally raped and killed. I need to know if Josh saw anything.”

Martin spoke slowly, as if Jackson might be a little dense. “If Josh witnessed a crime, he’s undoubtedly traumatized. He needs time. He needs to feel safe and secure. You’ll get better information if you wait.”

Jackson held back a groan. “I need to know now, before I interrogate his father, if Raina came to their house last night. I won’t press for details. I just need to know if she was there.”

Martin’s hands went to her hips. “Raina was Josh’s friend. He cared deeply for her. But Bruce and Cindy are his parents. Josh will be conflicted. Don’t force him to make that choice right now. He’s likely to protect his parents.”

Shit
. There had to be a way to do this now. “What if we bring in a child psychologist?”

Martin shook her head, finally losing patience. “No person worthy of the title will come in tonight and help you interrogate an eight-year-old boy. They’ll tell you what I’m telling you. Let him sleep for now. Then talk to him tomorrow after he’s accepted the idea that he’s not going back to his parents’ house and that it’s okay to tell the truth.”

They stood, locked in silent disagreement. Jackson tried to think about his daughter in this situation. What would he want for her? He would want Katie to talk to the police. What if she had to speak out against her parents? How hard would it be for her? She had already been through that to some degree while covering for Renee’s drinking all those years.

“You win,” he said finally. “I want him here at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

Martin nodded. “I’ll call you when Josh is ready.”

After carrying the sleeping boy out to Martin’s minivan, Jackson went back to his desk and typed his notes into a Word document. Typing did not come easy to him, but it was a necessary skill and he had forced himself to adapt. As he went though his scribbled notes, he realized he’d forgotten to ask Martha Krell about Raina’s flat tire. Bruce Gorman as a suspect made the question almost moot. If Gorman had driven Raina’s car to the observation point, the technicians would find a piece of him in the car. That trace evidence, plus all the circumstantial factors, would make the case against him. The assault with the vibrator was the one thing that didn’t fit as neatly into the scenario as Jackson would have liked. Then again, maybe it did. Maybe Gorman had been enraged and tried to rape Raina, but couldn’t get it up. So he’d assaulted her with an object as punishment for his impotence.

Jackson keyed
Bruce Wayne Gorman
into the CODIS database and waited for the upload. He was looking for anything he could find in Gorman’s file to use as leverage, to break him down and get a confession. A confession meant a plea bargain, which saved the DA a lot of trouble.

There it was at the top of the screen. Gorman, who was new to the Eugene area, had been charged with rape in Washington when he was twenty-two. The charge had later been dropped because the girl had recanted her story. Another assault against a woman five years later had never made it to court either. So Gorman liked to beat and rape women, then intimidate them into not testifying.
Was he the serial rapist
? His DNA results would put him away if he was.

Jackson almost called Michael Quince, the detective who was working the two unsolved rape cases, but remembered it was after one in the morning. Their conference could wait until tomorrow.

“How did it go at the Gormans’?” Evans suddenly stood at his desk. She’d taken off the knit cap and looked a little perkier than she had at the crime scene. “Anybody get hurt?” she asked, deadpan

Now that Jackson knew Gorman had raped and assaulted women, he didn’t feel bad about zapping him with the Taser, but still, he tried to keep it professional. “Gorman bolted, so I Tasered him. Then Cindy attacked me. So I wouldn’t call it a successful encounter.”

“But you got to use your new toy.” Evans grinned.

Jackson let a little smile escape. “It’s quite efficient.”

“I’d like to participate in the interrogations.”

“Great. Start with Cindy. Try to establish the female bonding thing. If that doesn’t work, threaten her with maximum time for assaulting an officer.” Jackson stood and grabbed a fresh notebook. “Did the friend, Jamie, have anything interesting to contribute?”

“No.” Evans scowled. “But she’s hiding something. I’ll go see her again tomorrow. Or today, actually. Unless we get a confession from Gorman.”

Schak strode up and said, “The subpoenas are on their way.”

Jackson stood. “Let’s go.”

In the harsh light of the small interrogation room, Gorman’s skin looked gray, as though it hadn’t been getting enough oxygen for some time. A smoker, Jackson realized. Good. Nicotine withdrawals were more effective than anything else in getting suspects to give up information.
I’ll give you my mother for a cigarette
.

Gorman’s lean hard body was hunched over the table, but he pulled up quickly when Jackson and Schak came in. It was hard to look proud with handcuffs on.

“How are you feeling?” Jackson used his friendly-nurse voice.

“Fuck you!”

“Let’s get past the bullshit right away. You’re going to be in this hole until you tell us everything about Raina’s visit to your home last night.” The room had recently been updated and wired for sound, so Jackson had the recorder running. “You know the drill. Everything you say can and will be used against you. We are recording, by the way.” Jackson didn’t give Gorman time to react. “What time did Raina arrive at your home last night, Wednesday, February 13?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We know she was at your property. She bought gas at the Crow Road turnoff. A judge is signing a search warrant for your home right now. Raina left a little piece of herself there and we’ll find it. A strand of hair, a drop of blood. If you tell us now, you have a chance to plea bargain.”

Little beads of sweat formed on Bruce’s scalp where his hair receded. Jackson could smell the nicotine oozing out.

“She didn’t come to our house. That’s all I have to say.” Gorman squinted. “Aren’t I supposed to have a lawyer?”

Jackson gave him a surprised look. “Do you know a defense lawyer who will come down here tonight and represent you?”