Crimes of Memory (A Detective Jackson Mystery) (15 page)

BOOK: Crimes of Memory (A Detective Jackson Mystery)
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“We kept it quiet. Craig didn’t want the owners to know he was living there.”

“Where was Craig when you walked away?”

“Standing in the doorway.”

The door to Cooper’s unit had been locked, with the bicycle outside. “Where was his bicycle?”

A puzzled look. “I think it was outside. And the door to his space was open, like he’d just got there.”

“And open when you left?”

“Yes.”

Jackson had found the torn Bible inside the storage unit. Had Cooper stepped out and locked the door, preparing to leave again? More likely Patrick was a liar. “Why did you wait to kill him until you were both outside?”

“I didn’t do it. He was standing there, swearing at me, when I left.”

“Did he mention going out somewhere?”

“No.”

“Did you leave the gate open when you left?”

“Yeah.”

Jackson had removed a knife from Patrick’s belt when he’d taken him into custody earlier. He laid that knife on the table. “You were at the crime scene at the time of death, and Craig’s blood is probably on this knife. Why not just tell us what happened? It will look better to the jury if you take responsibility for your actions.”

“I didn’t kill him.”

Jackson mustered up some empathy. “We understand that it was self-defense. But we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what happened.”

“I want my knife back. I’m done talking.” Patrick’s face twisted with a flash of pain. It was the same look he’d had earlier at the cabin.

Jackson stood. “We’ll call the DA and see if he’s willing to cut you a deal if you talk to us. Maybe manslaughter. Drink your coffee. We’ll be back in a minute to talk about the bank robbery.”

Patrick reached for the coffee, and Jackson noticed the suspect used his right hand… as the killer had. As they walked out, they heard Patrick groan.

“What do you think?” Jackson asked as they headed down the hall.

“I think that room is gonna be toxic when we get back.”

“We’ll have to ask him about the robbery money before we give him a bathroom break.” Jackson stepped into the conference room.

Evans turned and scoffed. “You know he’s lying. We need to look at the security video and see when he came and went. And I want to know why that Bible was so important to both him and Cooper. They don’t seem like the sentimental type.”

“Maybe it has a safe deposit number or some other clue to the money,” Schak offered.

“We’ll have to look it over.” Jackson watched Patrick Brennan on the monitor. His face was pinched and he held his hands under his sagging gut. Jackson worried about holding him in the cell too long. But he was leery about taking Patrick to the county jail, where they released inmates as fast as they processed them. He turned to his task force. “Let’s get the DA’s office to write up paperwork ASAP. We need a weapons search and a DNA swab. Patrick needs to be either here or in jail until we have both.”

“I’m on it.” Evans started dialing and stepped to the back of the room to make her call.

Jackson didn’t need to ask the DA about a deal. If Patrick confessed to killing Cooper in a fight, he’d get a plea bargain. Nobody wanted to waste a jury trial on an ex-con. A sad reality. On the off chance that Patrick was telling the truth, they’d have to keep digging. Jackson downed his coffee. “Let’s go back in.”

Their suspect looked relieved to see them so soon. “I need to use the toilet.”

“You pulled that on us before,” Schak said, his tone gruff. “You’re going to answer some questions first.”

“I have irritable bowel syndrome,” Patrick whined. “And it’s worse when I’m upset.”

“Then let’s get this over with.” Schak leaned forward. “We know you were involved in a robbery in 2004. Even if you didn’t go into the bank, you either drove the car or helped your brother and Craig plan it. You think Craig stashed the money, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. The cash never turned up.”

“We’re not going to press robbery charges,” Jackson said. “We just want to know what happened to Craig. Right now it looks like you killed him over a Bible.”

“No.”

“You didn’t go see him to deliver oranges either. There were none in his rental space. Tell us what you talked about.”

Silence.

“A hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars is still missing, and everyone will assume you went to see him about it.”

“I asked him about it. So what?” Patrick grimaced. “I’m sure his PO asked him about it too. And his sister.”

“What did Craig say?”

The sour smell of diarrhea filled the room. Jackson tried to keep his face impassive.

“What he always said. That Danny was carrying the money and ditched him after they left the bank. Then someone ratted and they both were arrested.”

“Did you turn them in?”

“Hell no.” Patrick looked offended.

“Did you believe Craig when he said he didn’t know where the money was?”

Patrick grimaced again. “I don’t know.”

Schak raised his voice. “If you didn’t kill him, who did? Who would want to kill Craig Cooper—a lonely ex-con—except you?”

“I don’t know.”

Jackson’s eyes watered from the stench. Schak made a gagging sound and lurched to his feet.

“Don’t leave me here!” Patrick jumped up. “I have to use the toilet.”

Schak jerked open the door, and Jackson motioned for Patrick to exit with them. In the hallway, they heard Evans laughing.

CHAPTER 12

Wednesday, March 13, 7:25 p.m.

Jackson pulled into Kera’s familiar driveway at the top of the slope and felt his shoulders relax. She opened the door, and the sight of her striking face made his headache disappear. Kera’s wide cheeks, full lips, and luminous copper hair caught people’s attention, but it was her smile that made them want to know her. Jackson pulled her close, inhaling the scent of her warm skin. Kera tended to be in constant motion, except for these blissful moments.

“How’s Katie?” she asked, as she led him into the house.

“Okay, I think. She’s with her aunt, and she has a counseling appointment tomorrow.”

Kera headed for the kitchen, and Jackson remembered the first time he’d come here to question her about a case. She’d fed him something healthy and made him laugh. He sat down at the table, the smell of meat roasting in the oven making him drool.

Kera poured him coffee. “I know you’re going back to work and will drink it anyway.”

“Thanks. It saves me a stop later. What is that incredible smell?”

“Italian-seasoned pork roast. But it can wait.” Kera eased onto his lap and kissed him gently.

Her lips were full and soft, and Jackson wanted her. “You feel great,” he murmured, pressing against her. But his body didn’t respond. They hadn’t had sex since Renee had died. Guilt, grief, and worry made him feel impotent.

Eventually, Kera pulled away. “I’m sorry. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I just need more time.”

“It’s okay. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s not over.” She kissed his forehead and stood up. “You’re just so sexy, I can’t resist.”

Jackson didn’t know what to say. Their relationship had taken so many hits, he couldn’t believe she still tried to make it work. Would they ever have a real life together?

“I love you,” he finally choked out.

Over their meal, she asked about the case he was working, and he gave her a general description. “The victim’s sister says he was trying to start fresh, but the hardest thing for ex-cons is to steer clear of old friends. Those contacts usually lead back to drugs, alcohol, or jail. This time, it may have cost him his life.”

“That’s sad, but it sounds like you’ll get the killer.” Kera reached over and touched the back of his hand. “You seem worried, but it’s not about the case, is it?”

“No, it’s Katie. She still doesn’t want to be around me.” Jackson put down his fork, no longer hungry. “I called her on the way over and she didn’t answer.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sure the phase is temporary. She’ll get tired of feeling lost and alone, and she’ll realize you’re her family, no matter what happened.”

“I appreciate that. I’m hoping her new counselor will help.” Jackson took his plate to the sink and checked his watch. He really had to get back to work. He hadn’t talked to the victim’s employer or retraced Cooper’s steps from earlier in the day.

Kera hugged him from behind. “You’re not going anywhere yet.” As Jackson turned to kiss her, his phone rang. They both groaned.

Jackson looked at the ID. “It’s Katie’s aunt. I have to take it.” He stepped away from Kera and said hello.

“Wade? Katie’s gone. I’m so worried.”

His meal turned to rocks in his stomach. “Gone where?”

“I don’t know. I was fixing dinner and I heard her get a call. When I went to the guest bedroom to tell her it was time to eat, she wasn’t there.”

“No note or anything?” He knew better.

“No. I even walked to the little park to see if she’d just gone out for a minute, but she’s not here anywhere.” A pause. “And Wade?”

“Yes?”

“Katie took her laptop and all the clothes that she kept here.”

Oh no! Where had she gone? “I’ll see what I can do. Call me if you hear from her.” He kept his tone casual as his heart tore open. “Thanks, Jan.” Jackson clicked off, his mind scrambling.

“That was about Katie?” Kera’s voice was gentle.

Jackson opened his eyes. “She ran off. She took the clothes she kept at Jan’s house and disappeared without a word.”

“Can you put out an alert or something?”

“No.” In this situation, being a cop didn’t help much. “She’s fifteen and she left of her own free will. I can’t force her to come home, so there’s no point in getting patrol officers involved.”

“We have to do something!”

This was why he loved Kera. She always wanted to be proactive. When Danette had disappeared, she’d gone looking herself. He nodded and said, “When Katie misses her first treatment session, she’ll be in violation of her court order, so patrol cops can arrest her then.”
If they find her.
Jackson hugged Kera and racked his brain for a plan. He would call all her friends, at least. Should he ask for another leave of absence? Would Lammers give him one or pressure him to retire?

“Can they put an ankle monitor on her?”

“Without personnel to track it, there’s no point.” Jackson grabbed his jacket from the chair. “I have an idea.”

“Good. What is it and what can I do?”

“I’ll hire Ed McCray to find her. He’s bored and thinking of doing consulting work anyway.”

Kera cocked her head. “And if he finds her?”

“We’ll see. I just don’t want Katie on the streets.”

“Does she have a friend or boyfriend she might be staying with?”

Jackson grimaced. “I think she has a new boyfriend, but I’ve never met him and she won’t talk to me.” He stood in the kitchen and called the phone numbers he had for Katie’s friends, leaving messages for two. The third girl claimed she hadn’t seen Katie in weeks.

Jackson was anxious to leave. He needed to be on the move. Being out there, on the street driving, would feel less wrong than hanging out with his girlfriend while his teenage daughter was AWOL. “I have to go.”

“Let me know if I can do anything.” Kera kissed him, her forehead creased with worry.

If only he’d met her sixteen years ago
, he thought for the dozenth time.

In the car, Jackson called McCray. While he sat in the driveway, Danette pulled in and unloaded the baby from his car seat. Jackson waved and looked back down, hoping the young woman wouldn’t come over to chat.

McCray answered, “Hey, Jackson. What’s going on? It’s too wet and dark to golf, so I’m curious.”

“I need your help.” His least favorite words. But McCray had worked violent crimes with him for ten years before retiring, and somehow he didn’t mind asking an old teammate.

“What can I do?”

“Find Katie for me. She ran off from her aunt’s house. I’ll pay you investigator fees, of course.”

“Let’s backtrack. What do you mean ‘ran off’?”

Jackson had seen McCray once since Renee’s funeral, and they’d talked briefly about Katie’s troubles. McCray had raised twin girls but hadn’t offered any advice except to “wait it out.” Rain beat down on the roof and Jackson started the car. “I dropped her off with Jan this afternoon, so I could work a new homicide. Six hours later, Katie took all the clothes she keeps over at Jan’s and left.” Needing to keep moving, Jackson backed out of the driveway. “We went to court today, and the judge mandated a substance-abuse program. It’s outpatient, but Katie apparently doesn’t plan to go.”

“That’s a pisser. I hope she pulls through this soon. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can.”

They didn’t talk about the money. Jackson fully intended to pay McCray, but he knew his friend would resist it until the end.
“I don’t plan to interfere with Katie. I just want to know where she is. Unless she’s on the street.”

“And if she is?”

“Have a patrol officer take her to Serbu. I can’t bear the thought of her sofa surfing with drug dealers and lowlifes.”

“Any leads for me?”

Jackson was headed for the downtown area, where runaways gathered. “If Katie isn’t in the obvious hangouts, then she might be with a new boyfriend. I’ll e-mail you a current photo to show around.”

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