Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 03 - Thrilled to Death (22 page)

“I’ll be damned,” Jim Trang said, breaking the stunned silence. “Can you lift it?”

“I think so. I’d like to come back to this area and spend more time after I complete the rest of the autopsy.”

“This is too critical to wait,” Slonecker argued. “If there’s a print, we need it now. A fingerprint means she was strangled.”

“Not necessarily.” Konrad finally looked up from his close scrutiny. “These bruises are consistent with sexual asphyxiation. If they contributed to her death, it could have been accidental suffocation. Also, the fingerprint may belong to the deceased.”

No one in the room wanted to believe it. Jackson remembered threatening Brett with the possibility of finding his fingerprints on Courtney’s neck. He’d thought at the time it was just a bluff.

“Let’s cut her open and look at her hyoid bone.” Slonecker was clearly impatient with the process.

“I’ll get there,” Konrad said, “but first, I’ll examine her genital area.”

Jackson looked away as the pathologist probed between Courtney’s legs. Even in death, she deserved some privacy.

Konrad took swabs from every orifice and placed them in tiny glass containers. After a moment, he said, “No sign of swelling or tearing. No semen present. It seems reasonable to conclude she was not raped in connection with her death.”

Slonecker spoke up. “Any sign of consensual sex?”

“There are no signs, but it’s still a possibility if a condom was used and discarded.” Konrad glanced at Jackson. “Was a condom found at the scene of her death?”

“No.”

Slonecker folded his arms across his chest. “Doesn’t that contradict your theory about the neck bruises being related to sex?”

“Not at all.” The pathologist’s voice was still deadpan. “The neck bruises could have been caused by consensual sex engaged in over a period of weeks before her death. Or even hours before her death. The pressure on her neck during climax may have even killed her. If they used a condom, or he failed to ejaculate, that sex may have occurred moments before she died. I have drawn no conclusions except that she was not forcibly raped in a way that caused visible damage.”

The room was quiet while Konrad pushed two gloved fingers into Courtney’s rectum. Jackson was watching the pathologist’s face and saw him make a small frown.

“What is it?”

“She has anal scar tissue.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t know for sure, but my best guess is she was repeatedly assaulted at an earlier time.”

Jackson drew in his breath. Jim Trang mumbled, “Oh God.”

“How sure are you about this?” Slonecker asked. “Is there any reason to tell her mother? Elle Durham is very anxious and calls me twice a day.”

Konrad responded, but Jackson wasn’t listening. He was thinking about Courtney and her irrational behavior and how it could all be a byproduct of childhood sexual abuse. Even the sexual dysfunction that Dr. Callahan had been treating her for made more sense now. Poor girl. Who had done this terrible thing to her? How much did it matter to his investigation?

The sudden whine of the stryker saw caused Jackson to jump. He never got used to this part of the process no matter how many times he’d been through it. Konrad made a Y-shaped cut into the chest cavity, then grabbed the loose flap of skin and flipped it up on her face. It made a loud sucking sound, and the smell of decaying organs filled the air. Jim Trang bolted from the room. It must have been his first autopsy, Jackson thought.

After taking a section of her lung and examining it up closely, Konrad said, “Her lungs were deprived of oxygen, which is consistent with suffocation.”

“Are you calling it a homicide or not?” Slonecker demanded.

“Not yet. We’re going to look at her hyoid bone too.”

“We found an asthma inhaler under the body,” Jackson added. “Her mother confirmed that Courtney had asthma attacks sometimes when she was outside.”

Konrad glanced over at Gunderson, the medical examiner, who had failed to report the information. “It’s not often a person dies of an asthma attack,” Konrad announced, “but during an episode, the chest muscles tighten, making the bronchiole tubes constrict. The lining becomes swollen and sticky with mucus. Less air flows into the lungs, and less oxygen enters the bloodstream.”

Jackson remembered his conversation with Parker at the lab. “A crime technician says her inhaler was empty.”

“She could have had an asthma attack and not been able to treat herself,” Gunderson noted.

“Let’s look at her hyoid bone right now,” Slonecker demanded again. “I need a ruling and I need to get back to work.”

A flicker of irritation flashed on Konrad’s face. “Certainly.”

A few minutes later the pathologist announced, “The hyoid is intact, making it unlikely this woman was strangled with significant force, yet the surrounding blood vessels are occluded.”

“What are you saying? Was it a homicide or not?”

“My report will say her cause of death is undetermined.”

Chapter 22

Jackson checked his cell phone as he left the overpark. His only call was from Sergeant Lammers, requesting a meeting with him in Chief Warner’s office ASAP. Oh boy. The chief only took a direct interest in cases if they were high profile, like the situation with the mayor last fall. And now again with the daughter of a rich, prominent family who used their money to make good things happen in Eugene.

The drive from the hospital to city hall took four minutes. Jackson bounded up the stairs from the parking garage and headed straight for the bathroom. The pink in his stream startled him. His urologist had not mentioned blood.

From the privacy of the bathroom, he called Dr. Jewel. The chief could wait five minutes. The receptionist tried to tell him the doctor couldn’t come to the phone, but Jackson said, “I’ll hold for him, even if it’s twenty minutes.”

“That’s really not necessary. The doctor will call you back.”

“I’ll wait. Please tell him it’s important.”

As he waited, Jackson rehearsed what he would say to Warner and Lammers. Finally, Dr. Jewel came on the line. “Wade, what’s going on? Is there a problem with the stents?”

“There’s blood in my piss.”

“A little bit of blood is fairly common. What color is your urine?”

“Ugly pink.”

“When is your surgery scheduled?”

“I don’t know. Your office was supposed to call me.”

“Just a moment.”

The handle rattled on the bathroom door. Jackson ignored it.

Dr. Jewel came back on. “I’d like to do this operation Monday morning at six. I assume that works for you?”

His body screamed yes, but his head wondered if he could wrap up the bulk of the Courtney/Danette investigation by then. If not, could he let himself turn it over to his team?

“The bleeding is a concern,” Jewel prodded.

“Okay. I can’t stand these stents anyway.”

“My assistant will give you all the pre-surgery instructions. In the meantime, take it easy. Sit around and read or watch TV for a couple of days.”

Jackson jotted down the information on the back page of his notebook. He wondered when he could make time to pre-register at the hospital. He would also need to eat at least one decent meal before Sunday afternoon when he had to start his pre-surgery fast.

He left the bathroom and headed for Warner’s office. Two and half more days with the damned stents, then major surgery, during which he could die for any number of reasons, and now an ASAP meeting with the chief. Life was good.

Sergeant Lammers caught Jackson in the hall just outside Warner’s office. She grabbed his arm. “Just a heads up that Elle Durham is Warner’s cousin, so Courtney is like a niece to him. Be careful what you say about her.” Lammers reached for the door. “I hope you have some good news.”

Jackson felt his kidneys bleed a little.

Warner was on the phone when they walked in, and it reminded Jackson to shut his cell phone off. Sergeant Lammers had a reputation for smashing and/or throwing other people’s cell phones if they interrupted her conversation.

Jackson stood while they waited, because he was more comfortable that way. Lammers gestured for him to sit. Chief Warner was a little short and didn’t like people towering over him. The chief finally hung up and looked directly at Jackson. “What the hell is going on with this case? Elle Durham has called three times, and I don’t have any information to give her. She says you don’t return her calls.”

“Her daughter’s only been dead two days, and I have worked round the clock to find out why. I didn’t return Elle’s calls yesterday because I was interrogating suspects all day.” Jackson had tried not to sound defensive, yet there it was.

“What did you learn?”

Jackson suspected the chief knew nothing about his investigation, so he started at the beginning. “Courtney hired someone to kidnap her just for the thrill.”

Warner’s fleshy face scrunched into a scowl. “What the hell are you saying?”

“She arranged and paid for her own kidnapping by a company that specializes in extreme adventures. Her boyfriend, Brett, thinks Courtney did it to get her mother’s attention.”

“You know, Elle is–” Warner stopped, paused, then started again. “I knew Courtney needed some professional help, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

Jackson wondered if the chief knew about Courtney’s childhood sexual abuse. For a split second, he wondered if Warner was the pedophile predator who’d committed the crimes. It was always a family member or close friend of the family. Just as quickly, he let the ugly thought go. Warner was a good man.

Lammers jumped in. “What happened? The kidnapping went bad?”

“According to all testimony and videotape evidence, the kidnapping went as planned and Courtney was released unharmed around 10 p.m. Tuesday night. Sometime before midnight, she died for unknown reasons. There was an empty asthma inhaler under her body, and her lungs showed signs of oxygen deprivation. It’s possible she simply died of an asthma attack.”

“Oh, that is tragic,” Warner said, looking relieved.

“Her cause of death is undetermined. Courtney also has bruises on her neck consistent with choking. Her boyfriend, Brett Fenton, admits to engaging in choking during sex at Courtney’s request.” Warner started to interrupt, but Jackson kept going. “Courtney also called Brett to pick her up. He says he didn’t go down there, but he also lied to us at first and said he hadn’t heard from her. He’s still a suspect.”

“Is he in custody?”

“He was last night. His lawyer may have secured his release by now.”

“Bring him back in. If that young man hurt Courtney, I want him prosecuted.”

“There’s another wrinkle in this case,” Jackson said, wishing he didn’t have to mention it.

“I’m listening.” The chief leaned forward and Lammers gave him a look he couldn’t read.

“Another young woman, Danette Blake, disappeared Monday morning. She left her baby with a sitter, kept an appointment with her psychiatrist, then simply vanished. Here’s the connection. She and Courtney were both seeing the same psychiatrist. In fact, Danette took Courtney’s Monday morning appointment after Courtney cancelled.” Jackson wished he had a glass of water to wash down the lump in this throat. “My working theory is that ThrillSeekers’ local contract man kidnapped Danette by mistake, thinking she was Courtney leaving the shrink’s office.”

After a full two seconds of silence, Lammers said, “Most criminals are idiots, so it’s certainly possible. What’s your theory about where Danette is now?”

“I think they may have killed her to simply clean up the mistake. The man who contracted for Courtney’s kidnapping is a local named Eddie Lucas. He was picked up last night in Redding, California and is being transported here now. I’ll be able to question him this afternoon.”

“What a mess.” Warner made a point to catch Jackson’s eye. “Don’t misunderstand me, I want Danette’s case solved too, but remember Courtney is your priority. If you think the boyfriend killed her, then sweat him until you get a confession. Let one of your team members interrogate this other guy, Eddie what’s-his-name.”

Jackson nodded and stood to leave. “I have a lot to accomplish today.”

“Keep me updated,” Warner said as Jackson walked out, hands clenched tightly inside his jacket pockets. He hated being told how to run his cases. The idea that Courtney was somehow more important than Danette because of her family’s money was such bullshit. Jackson was pissed at himself for not speaking up and saying so.

“Jackson,” Lammers called out, catching up to him as he strode toward his work space. “Are you okay? I mean, physically. You look a little gray.”

“I’ve had about seven hours of sleep since Tuesday, but I’m fine.”

“When is your surgery?”

He stopped and turned to face her. “Monday morning. I just found out. I’ll be out for the next couple of weeks. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine. I’m confident you and your team will resolve both cases.”

“Thanks. I am too.”

They stood at the edge of the area housing the desks of the violent crime detectives. The desk officer rushed up from the wide hallway leading to the front of the building. “Jackson, an officer has located the car.”

“What car?”

“The blue Toyota on the attempt-to-locate. Officer Lopez spotted it near the university. A young male was sleeping in the vehicle, so she woke him and asked to see his ID and registration. The car is registered to Danette Blake. The man’s name is Josh Wilson and he has a record of heroin possession and petty theft. He says he found the vehicle with the keys in the door and borrowed it for a few days.”

“Where did he find it?”

“In a parking lot on Lincoln Street.”

“Where is the car now?”

“Near 15th and Agate. The officer is still in the area, waiting for instructions.”

“Tell her to watch the car until I get there. Where is the heroin addict?”

“Another officer picked him up and he’s being booked into the jail now.”

“Call the sheriff and ask him to designate Josh Wilson as a no release.” Without the request, even a car thief would be matrixed out of the system in less than twenty-four hours because of overcrowding.