Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 03 - Thrilled to Death (7 page)

“Answer my question. What are you doing here?”

“Detective Zapata asked me to find Danette’s boyfriend’s last name, so I came here to look for it.”

“I doubt he meant for you to enter her house.” Even his sarcasm was stiff. “If the woman is missing, this could be a crime scene.” The officer hesitated, uncertain for the first time. “I need to see your ID.”

“You want me to pick up the purse?”

“Yes.”

Kera fished out her driver’s license and handed it over.

“What is your name?”

“Officer Richard Anderson.”

“I know Detective Wade Jackson. He can vouch for me.”

Officer Anderson handed back her license. “Please leave the premises and do not come back. Let the police handle this situation.”

The police aren’t doing anything
! Out loud, she said, “I’d like to go lock the house.”

“All right.”

She could feel him watching her. A voice came on his radio, and she heard her own name in an otherwise muffled report. It gave her stomach a jolt. Officer Anderson didn’t try to stop her as she got in her car and drove away.

Sophie scooted across the parking lot of the Willamette News office with a little bounce in her step. She glanced over at the three-story printing building and wondered what would happen to that gigantic offset press when the newspaper folded. Don’t worry about it today, she coached herself. Things were going too well.

First, she’d run into Kera Kollmorgan and got the scoop on the missing mother story, then she’d finally interviewed the reticent Detective Jackson. To top it all off, Elle Durham, who owned half of Eugene, had walked into the missing persons office while she was there. Was one of the Durham heirs missing? Now that would be a story.

Was the missing Durham daughter somehow connected to Danette Blake, the missing young mother? Sophie rejected the idea. If someone had kidnapped Courtney or Brooke, it was about money.

Sophie trotted upstairs to her desk, refusing to feel guilty about her reactions to juicy stories. She had made peace with her role as an observer/chronicler of other people’s misfortune, and she compensated by writing stories about the ‘the little guy who takes a beating’ whenever she could. She still had the ‘day in the life of a detective’ feature in the bag too. It would just have to wait a little.

At her desk in her half-cubicle space, she logged into her computer, slipped the disk with Danette Blake’s photo into the machine, and printed a color copy.

On the way to pick up the print, a co-worker/photographer stopped her. “Am I still on to shoot some photos at the police department this afternoon?”

“No, sorry. Maybe tomorrow. I’ll keep you posted.”

Sophie trotted with the print to her editor’s office. The door was open, so she walked in just as Karl Hoogstad stood to adjust his pants. The news editor was midsized and round in the middle, with a strip of grayish hair clinging to the back of his head.

“You should knock,” he said, not looking at her.

“Sorry. I’ve got a breaking story I’d like to get into tomorrow’s edition.”

“Yeah? What?”

“A missing young woman.”

“As in vanished and no one has seen her?”

“Yep.” Sophie slid the photo across the desk. “Her name is Danette Blake. She dropped off her baby with his grandmother yesterday morning and no one has seen her since.”

A moment of silence while Hoogstad stared at Danette’s picture. He pushed it back across the desk. “This is an abandoned baby story, and we’re not running it unless it’s part of a trend.”

“How can you know for sure something hideous hasn’t happened to her?”

“Have you talked to the police department?” When Hoogstad scowled, the folds on his forehead wrinkled like a Shar-Pei.

“I thought I would run it by you first.”

“Call the department. If they suspect foul play, I’ll be so shocked I’ll take you off the city council beat and put you on crime full time.” He laughed in an unpleasant way.

Kera fixed sandwiches for her and Maggie, who looked frazzled after only a few hours with the baby. Five minutes into the meal Maggie said, “What happens with Micah if Danette never comes back? I mean, what if she’s dead?” Her voice collapsed on the last word.

Kera had not let herself think about the possibility Danette could be dead, but she had considered the idea Danette would not return voluntarily. “I’m willing to take care of Micah, but I understand if you think he should stay with your family.”

“I can’t do it.” Maggie looked pained by the admission. “My health isn’t good. I have fibromyalgia, and it’s all I can do to work for a living.”

“He can stay here as long as he needs to. I only work part time now, so I wouldn’t need a full-time sitter.” Kera reached over and touched Maggie’s hand. “Let’s not think like that. It’s only been a day and a half. She’ll turn up.” Kera sounded more sure than she felt. “I found an e-mail on Danette’s computer that mentioned meeting someone at the center. Do you know what she meant by ‘the center’?”

“No. Sorry.”

“That’s okay, I’ll track it down. First, I’m going to send some e-mails, then I’ll call the local TV stations.”

“I should have thought of that.” Maggie frowned. “I’ve never been good in emergencies.”

After lunch Kera re-read the forwarded e-mail from Becca. She sent Becca a message, asking for information about the center and encouraging Becca to call her. Next she checked her Facebook page. A few of Danette’s friends had responded to her posts, but none had anything helpful to offer. Kera posted back and asked if they knew Chad’s last name or anything about him.

She called KRSL and asked to speak to Trina Waterman.

“She’s out on a story right now, can I take a message?” the receptionist said.

“I’d like to talk to someone about a missing persons story.”

“Just a moment.”

A few minutes later, a fast-talking female voice came on the line. “This is Trina Waterman. I just walked in the door. Who are you and who is missing?”

“I’m Kera Kollmorgan. My daughter-in-law, Danette Blake, is missing.”

“Your name sounds familiar. Have we met?”

“You interviewed me after the bombing at the Planned Parenthood clinic last fall.”

“Oh yes. How are you doing?”

“Great. Except that Danette is missing.”

“What are the details?”

Kera repeated her story.

There was a short pause. “That is peculiar. Have you been to the police?”

“I filed a missing persons report this morning.”

“Do they suspect she’s the victim of a crime?”

“There’s not much to go on. Her car hasn’t been located, but everything she owns is still in her house.”

“Do you have a digital image you can e-mail me?”

“Sure. I’d love to get her picture on the news. She could be in a hospital somewhere with no ID.”

“No promises. I have to run everything by my producer.” Trina gave Kera an e-mail address and got off the phone. Kera decided on her next call, she wouldn’t mention Danette had dropped off her baby, just to see if she got a different reaction.

“I’d like to take a nap,” Maggie said from the doorway. “Would you keep an eye on Micah?”

“Sure.” Kera reached for the little boy who grinned wildly at her.

Chapter 9

Danette thought she was awake, but couldn’t be sure. With the blindfold over her eyes, her little world was dark, and the pills had knocked her out for what seemed like hours. She’d been half awake and half asleep for a while. Now her bladder felt like it would burst. She forced herself to focus. Danette rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. Her head felt light, her throat was parched, and her stomach growled. How long had she been in this room? Why were they keeping her?

She had a vague memory of being carried downstairs and dropped on this small, musty bed. The big guy had forced two tiny pills into her mouth and untied her feet. She’d been terrified, thinking, please don’t rape me, please don’t kill me. He’d said something, then left her alone. She’d drifted off soon after.

Danette stood, waiting to see how her body would react. Her legs felt weird and her shoulders ached from having her arms pulled together in front for so long. The ache in her breasts made her think of Micah. She’d quit breastfeeding a few weeks ago and the baby had not been happy about it. A sob rose in her throat; she choked on it. Would she ever see Micah again? Danette fought for control. She couldn’t break down. She had to stay alert and resilient if she wanted to survive this ordeal, whatever the hell it was.

The big guy had replaced the handcuffs on her wrists with thin nylon cord, so her hands had less mobility. Still, she was able to push the bandanna up and off her eyes. The room was just as dark without it. She was ready to yank it back into place if she heard footsteps coming. Her captor didn’t want her to see his face, and it gave Danette hope she might eventually be released.

The gag in her mouth wouldn’t budge without tearing off her lower lip. Danette shuffled forward, thinking there was a bathroom in the corner.
Had the big guy told her that?
Cautiously, she crossed the small space, found the switch inside the door, and flipped it on. The light was so dim she barely blinked after hours of darkness. Danette shuffled into the bathroom and used the toilet.

Having her wrists tightly bound made it difficult, but Danette searched the tiny room for something that might help. She found nothing. Not even a towel. She left the light on and shuffled back out into the main room. In the weak glow, she could see she was in a basement. Yet it wasn’t a typical filled-with-crap basement. She was alone down here, with nothing but a bed, a couch, and toilet. She touched the cool stone wall, paralyzed with despair.

Another vague memory surfaced. She’d come awake once at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. The door to the room had opened and someone had come in. He’d offered her food if she promised not to say a word while the gag was off. She vaguely remembered chewing her way through most of a nutrition bar before she’d passed out again.

As her eyes adjusted to the weak light, she realized one long wall was stacked high with boxes.
What were they storing down here?
She thought about trying to open one.
Was it worth the risk of angering the big guy?

She heard footsteps and yanked the cloth back over her eyes. A key clicked in the lock and a door swung open. Danette turned toward the sound, braced for assault. Two sets of footsteps moved toward her. A man’s voice whispered, but she couldn’t understand the words. Another man said softly, “The body’s good but I need to see her face. Take the blindfold off.”

“Trust me. She’s pretty.” Then louder, “Step over here to the light.”

Danette was conflicted, as she had been since she’d landed on her face while getting out of the van. So far, as long as she cooperated with them, nothing bad had happened to her. Yet every fiber in her body wanted to refuse the command.

The big guy grabbed her arm, pulled her toward the bathroom, and stepped behind her.

“Keep your eyes tightly closed,” he threatened. “If you want to live, don’t look at him.”

He untied the blindfold at the back of her head and lowered it to her collarbone, keeping his hands on the ends. His thick wrists rested on her shoulders. Danette kept her eyes closed, painfully aware the big guy could tighten the bandanna around her neck and strangle her in seconds.

“She’s gorgeous,” the other one said. His voice was not as deep or as loud as the big guy’s. Danette wondered if she’d heard it before. “Good skin tone, but no strong ethnic features. The Dutchman will love her. We have a deal.”

Danette shuddered. She’d just been sold like a side of beef.

As the blindfold came up, she relaxed her eyelids and got a nanosecond glance at the man who’d purchased her. All she could process was that he was not very big and his hair was light.

“Good girl.” The big guy grabbed her arm. “It’s time for another pill.” He put two little white tablets under her tongue and they dissolved instantly. As Danette began to feel sleepy, the big guy put the bandanna back on her mouth, tied her feet, and carried her up the stairs.

Soon after Jackson and Katie arrived at Kera’s, Mrs. Blake took off, saying she was going out to see an old friend for dinner.

“It’s nice of her to give us some time alone,” Jackson said, as he watched Kera change the baby. Katie was in the living room, texting a friend. For a moment, Jackson wondered what his life would have been like if he’d met Kera twenty years ago, instead of Renee, and they’d had a child together. What would their child be like? Would he have had more than one?

“I think she needed to get away from babysitting,” Kera said with a laugh. “I don’t blame her. She’s not well.”

They were silent for a few seconds as they both thought about Jackson’s disease. People might say that about him now.

“How did your day go?” Jackson didn’t want to talk about the whole RF thing yet. Kera picked up Micah and they sat beside each other on her bed.

“Good, I think. I filed a missing persons report and talked to Sophie Speranza.”

“She told me she ran into you at the department.”

“We had coffee together, and I told her about Danette. Sophie said she’d try to get her picture and story in the paper. We might as well enlist the public’s help.”

“Of course.” Jackson hated the idea of Sophie getting to know Kera. She would try to use it to manipulate him.

“I went into Danette’s house,” Kera said softly.

Jackson felt a flash of concern mixed with irritation. “I advised you not to do that.”

“I know, but Detective Zapata isn’t taking this case seriously and I didn’t expect him to get over there anytime soon.”

She was right about that. “What did you find out?”

“I couldn’t find the boyfriend’s name anywhere, but I did see an e-mail that mentioned meeting another young mother at a center. So I’m looking into that.”

“What center?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out.” Kera paused, touched Jackson’s leg. “A police officer came to Danette’s house while I was there. He called in a report, then made me leave.”