Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 03 - Thrilled to Death (23 page)

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“What does this mean for you?” Lammers asked.

“It means Danette didn’t drive away from her appointment and abandon her child. It supports my theory that she was abducted from the parking lot of her psychiatrist’s office by the same person who kidnapped Courtney.”

“Let me know if you need more detectives.”

On his way to the university area, Jackson made a call to Evans, who was waiting with Schak in front of Seth Valder’s house. He told her about Danette’s car. “You may have to search Valder’s place without me, depending on what I find and when Eddie Lucas arrives.”

“No problem. Keep us posted.”

Danette’s car fit right in to the college neighborhood with its big vintage houses and environmentally friendly vehicles. Jackson was surprised an officer had spotted the ten-year-old Toyota. Maybe the cop had noticed the junkie sleeping in the back seat and got lucky the vehicle was on an attempt-to-locate list. It didn’t matter.

The patrol unit was parked across the street, and the officer climbed out of her car when she saw Jackson approaching. Jackson pulled on latex gloves. If Eddie Lucas had touched the car and left a print…

Officer Lopez, a middle-aged female, limped across the tree-lined street and introduced herself.

“Anything interesting I should know up front?” Jackson reached for the passenger side door, which was near the sidewalk.

“It smells like vomit. Brace yourself.”

“What about the junkie? Did he say anything to indicate he knew the woman who owned the vehicle?”

“No. He was practically incoherent, but he told me where he found the car.”

“Have you searched it?”

“No. As soon as I saw the name on the registration, I knew it belonged to the missing woman. So I called for another officer to take in my arrestee and didn’t touch anything in the car.”

“Good work.”

Jackson put in a call to the crime lab, asking to have the vehicle towed back to the evidence bay. A spring shower came out of nowhere, so Lopez took refuge under a nearby tree and Jackson climbed in the Toyota to conduct a quick search. The stench almost drove him straight back out. The sour vomit smell made his eyes water, so he rolled down a window. Three days worth of junkie garbage littered the front seats and floor: a half-eaten burger, food wrappers, two stolen wallets, now empty, and used needles. The back seat was covered with a dirty blanket and a gray sweatshirt, and the worst of the smell seemed to come from the floor back there. Jackson didn’t expect to find anything that would actually help him locate Danette, but he had to look anyway.

He started with the glove box, which produced all the usual registration and insurance papers as well as a flashlight and a sci-fi paperback. He poked around in the garbage on the floor, grateful he was wearing gloves. He reached under the front seat and came out with a handful of papers. Sifting through them, he found a catalog for summer classes at the University of Oregon, a handout with a list of social services, and a bright yellow flyer with information about the Young Mothers Outreach center.

Dr. Callahan had said someone at the center referred Danette to her for treatment. He wasn’t sure it mattered now. It seemed obvious Danette had disappeared from the parking lot of her shrink’s office. Assuming he could take the junkie’s word for where he found the car. If the druggie was willing to admit he stole the Toyota, why lie about where he found it? Jackson might eventually question Josh Wilson about Danette, but it seemed like a waste of time right now. Unlike meth addicts, who might kill someone for the ten dollars in their pocket, heroin addicts were rarely violent and not organized enough to make someone disappear.

Jackson glanced at the address on the flyer, pocketed the paper, and got the hell out of the car. Gulping deep breaths of wet fresh air, he glanced over at Officer Lopez who was trying to keep a straight face.

“Told you it was bad.”

“You did. Offering me a mask would have been more helpful.” He grinned. “Will you stay with the vehicle until the crime lab gets here to impound it?”

“Of course.”

Back in his car, Jackson called McCray. “How are we doing on the subpoena?”

“Judge Cranston is reading it now. He’s a little skeptical about your mistaken identity kidnapping theory.”

“Tell him we’ve located Danette’s car. A junkie found it in the psychiatrist’s parking lot with the keys in the door, so he stole it. It’s sitting here on 15th and Agate right now.”

“No shit? Your theory is sounding more and more viable.”

Had McCray doubted it?
Jackson almost laughed. He didn’t blame him. “Call me and Evans when you have the subpoena, then head straight for the phone company. I want Valder’s phone records immediately.”

Jackson called headquarters. “Have we heard from the Redding Police this morning?”

“Not yet.”

“Get on the phone with the captain who contacted us last night. I want to know when Eddie Lucas will be here. I need to talk to him ASAP.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jackson was anxious to interrogate Seth Valder as well. After his Taser episode and Valium dose, the strip club owner had been in no condition to answer questions the night before. Jackson figured letting the agoraphobic sit in jail for a while would help break him down. Meanwhile, his strategy was to lean on Lucas first and offer him a deal for giving up Valder.

Jackson headed for the outreach center on 17th and Oak. He might as well stop in and check it out while he was in the neighborhood. Until he had Eddie Lucas in custody or a search warrant for Valder’s house, he was on standby.

The Young Mothers Outreach center shared a parking lot with Goodbe Imports. The center was in a small concrete building with windows on the street side only. Jackson vaguely recalled it might have once been a bank. Inside, it smelled of baby powder and the walls had been painted creamy yellow. The back half was filled with computers and tables, and it reminded him of the space at the employment office.

A dark-haired woman in her twenties approached him immediately, and another young woman with a baby in her lap eyed him warily. Jackson realized he was not a typical visitor here and might be causing some alarm.

“Hi. I’m Gwen. How can I help you?”

He introduced himself. “I’d like to ask some questions about Danette Blake. Are you the person in charge?”

She smiled. “I like to think so, but not really. Our director is Elias Goodbe, but he’s not here right now. His assistant, Lisa Harkin, is in her office though. Follow me.”

As they walked into a short hallway, Gwen turned and said, “You’re the second person to come in here asking about Danette. She must really be in some kind of trouble.”

“Who was the other person?”

“A woman named Kera. She had Danette’s baby with her.”

Kera had checked out the center?
Once he processed the information, Jackson was not surprised. Kera didn’t sit around waiting for things to happen. She would look for Danette until she had exhausted all reasonable leads. For Kera’s sanity, Jackson needed Eddie Lucas to tell him where the body was buried. He dreaded telling Kera about finding Danette’s car, but he knew hearing bad news was better than a lifetime of wondering. He didn’t know how parents of missing children went on with their lives.

Gwen led him into a small windowless office and introduced him to a woman in her mid-fifties with a gray-white ponytail.

“Lisa Harkin.” She shook his outstretched hand and gave him a warm smile. “Have a seat.”

“Do you know Danette Blake?” Jackson eased onto the wooden chair.

“I did her intake here at the center, so I spent a few hours with her. I can’t say I know her well. I understand she’s missing.”

“She was last seen at an appointment with her psychiatrist. Did you refer Danette to Dr. Callahan?”

“I did. I was very concerned about Danette’s depression and thought she needed professional help. I ran it by the director and he agreed to the referral.”

“You mean Elias Goodbe?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the connection between Goodbe and Callahan?”

“My understanding is they’re friends, but I don’t know how they met.”

“Do you know Elle Durham?”

“Yes. She’s one of our benefactors.”

“What about Courtney Durham?”

Lisa shifted in her chair. “I’ve met her and Brooke. Why? Do you think Courtney’s death is related to Danette Blake’s disappearance?”

“It could be. Does Elias Goodbe know Elle Durham?”

Lisa looked up at the doorway, just as Jackson sensed movement behind him. A man’s voice said, “I’m Elias Goodbe and I should probably be the one answering these questions.”

Jackson stood and turned to face him, noticing Goodbe looked much like his assistant–gray, but fit and attractive. Jackson introduced himself. “I would like to talk to you.”

“I don’t have much time, but my office is right next door.”

They entered a slightly larger office with a small vertical window. Jackson had to move a stack of papers from the guest chair before he could sit. Goodbe motioned him to put the papers on the already overflowing bookcase. Jackson thought he smelled stale smoke on Goodbe’s clothes.

“To answer your question, yes, I know Elle Durham. We’re both members of the Chamber of Commerce and we’ve served on committees together. Elle is a wonderful woman who has suffered more than her share of tragedy. I’m sure Courtney’s death is hitting her very hard.”

“Did you know Courtney?”

“She was a volunteer at the center briefly, but I didn’t know her well.”

Jackson thought he detected a flicker of distaste in Goodbe’s expression. “What did you think of Courtney?”

“She was a troubled young woman.” Goodbe paused and looked thoughtful. “Yet she was a good person at heart.”

“What do you know about Danette Blake?”

Goodbe shook his head. “Not much. Lisa thought she was suffering from post-partum depression, so we referred her to Stella Callahan who does some pro bono work for us.” The director clasped his hands together. “I understand Danette is missing.”

“Since Monday. After seeing Stella Callahan.”

Jackson waited, hoping Goodbe would volunteer something. He sensed the director was uncomfortable.

Goodbe finally said, “I wish I could help you. These last few days have been distressful for me personally, hearing the news about these young women. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

“Do you know Seth Valder?” Jackson tossed it out on a whim.

“No.” Goodbe squinted a little. “Should I? Who is he?”

“He owns Lucky Numbers, a strip club out on Highway 99.” Jackson watched for a reaction but didn’t get one. His phone rang and he flipped it open. It was the department. “Excuse me. I have to get this.”

“A Redding police officer just walked in the door with Eddie Lucas,” the front desk officer reported.

“I’m on my way.”

Chapter 23

Lucas had the thin face, nervous eyes, and sparse hair of a man who’d spent most of his life worrying about something. Today was no exception. Even with his hands cuffed in front, he was chewing his fingernails as Jackson walked into the interrogation room.

“Eddie. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”

“I go by D.J. now.”

Jackson sat on the other side of the scarred wooden table. He set out his recorder. “Eddie, if you tell me the truth, I’ll use this tape to convince the district attorney to cut you a deal. If you lie to me, I’ll convince a jury you’re as guilty as you look.” Jackson gave him a shitty smile. “Ready?”

“You’re wrong about me,” Eddie said, sounding high-pitched and eager, his black Kid Rock t-shirt making him seem younger than his thirty-two years. “I’ve been on the right side of the law for a long time now. They picked me up on some stupid left-turn thing.”

“Why did you run?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I see cops and I panic. I keep hoping I’ll get over that.”

“You’re looking at a murder charge in the death of Courtney Durham. I guess that’s reason to panic.”

His suspect swallowed hard. “That’s crazy.”

Jackson wanted to get to the heart of this conversation, but he had to put Lucas on edge first. “We know Seth Valder hired you to kidnap Courtney. We know it was her idea, and that she was fine when she left Seth Valder’s house in your van. What happened after that? Did you panic and kill her because you were afraid of getting busted for your part in the whole thing?”

“Hell no.” Eddie shook his head vigorously. “I let her off over there on that bike path behind the football stadium, just like Seth told me to. Then I drove away. Courtney was fine. She said, ‘Thanks for the ride,’ and blew me a kiss when she hopped out.”

“When did you learn she was dead?”

Eddie’s eyes darted around as he tried to find the best answer. “I didn’t know she was dead until you mentioned it just now.”

Jackson laughed a little. “Why did you suddenly leave town yesterday?”

“My mother is sick. I was on my way to Fresno to see her.”

Jackson leaned forward. “Look, Eddie. You need to cut the bullshit. I have Seth Valder in custody too. I’m prepared to charge both of you with two counts of kidnapping and murder.” Jackson put extra volume on the word
two
and watched Eddie’s reaction.

Two counts of murder? Eddie felt queasy. His tongue slid back and forth across his bottom lip and he was powerless to stop it. “Who else is dead?” He had to ask, but he already knew.

“Danette Blake. The first woman you kidnapped.” The detective stared at him with the coldest eyes. “If you cooperate, the DA will offer some kind of deal with minimal jail time. He’s on his way over here now. I want the whole story before he gets here. He’s not a patient man.”

Eddie remembered that day. It had seemed like such easy money at the time. Then everything had gone to shit. He couldn’t believe Valder had killed the girl. For nothing. For his mistake. Fuck! Eddie felt like crying. He began to rock, a gentle movement that gave him little comfort. It all came back to him in vivid detail.

He sat in the back of the van, watching the building out the rear window. Everything was ready, including the washcloth in his hand. The parking lot was quiet, and only one car pulled in while he waited. The pretty girl came out the door just before ten o’clock as Valder had said she would. Eddie scrambled over to the van’s sliding door to get in place. He grabbed the handle and listened for her footsteps. Suddenly she was there, keys jangling.