Icy Betrayal (7 page)

TWELVE

M
ornings were generally quiet at the Super Discount Mart in Castle Springs, and on this particular morning the overnight snowfall had kept even the most dedicated bargain shoppers at home. Keller parked his F-150 truck and walked across the freshly plowed lot. There was no greeter inside and few staff to help him, but he quickly found the electronics section.

Pre-paid phones, also commonly known as burner phones, are marketed to lower income customers and those with bad credit. Most of the phones allow users to place calls and send texts, with some even allowing internet access. Burner phones also provided criminals with untraceable phone numbers, allowing for secret calls and texts. They were a big headache for law enforcement, as Keller knew all too well.

He grabbed two burner phones, each pre-loaded with 480 minutes of talk and text time. He paid in cash, walked outside, climbed into his truck, and headed north up I-25 toward the I-70 interchange.

Jack Keller was driving toward his past at 60 miles per hour.

THIRTEEN

M
ia’s phone buzzed. “Taking 2day off. Talk 2morrow.” The text was from Keller.

Frustrated at first, Mia instead took advantage of the break from Keller to break down Lisa Sullivan’s story. Most importantly, the sister she claimed to have in Big Pine. If there was no sister, as Mia suspected, why was Sullivan on Highway 46 that morning? Her investigation had to be low profile. If Sullivan was culpable, Serrano didn’t want her to know someone might be on to her.

She started searching. If Sullivan’s sister was married, she’d likely have a different surname. Standard Internet searches led nowhere, Sullivan or no Sullivan. Facebook made it easier to search maiden names, but she came up empty there, too. She searched the crime database for women 25-40 and found no decent leads for anyone near Big Pine. She even searched marriage records in all regional counties. Nothing.

Mia’s eyes ached from the glare of the computer screen. It was time for plan B.

An hour later, Inspector Mia Serrano pulled into Big Pine. She drove along the main drag trying to come up with a plan. Finally, she passed by the Big Pine Post Office. Bingo. The post office was the center of every small town, she thought. She parked, went inside, and took a place in line.

“Next.”

Mia looked up and saw the postal clerk looking in her direction.

“Hi, just a book of stamps, please.”

“You want the new ones with the Olympic torch on it?”

“Sure, that would be fine.”

As the clerk reached into the drawer to get the stamps, Mia started up a conversation.

“It’s been a long time since I was in Big Pine—I see the town still looks the same.”

The clerk eyed her cautiously before answering.

“You from around here?”

“No, but I had a very good friend from Big Pine, and I used to visit her a lot. Her name is Lisa Sullivan, but I’m afraid I’ve lost track of her.”

“Sullivan, you say? How long ago was this?”

“Oh, it was a few years back. She had a sister who lived here as well, although her name escapes me right now.”

“Well, I pride myself on knowing pretty much every person who lives here in Big Pine, and I know there ain’t no Sullivans living here now. Now there was one Sullivan, going back maybe twenty years or so, but it was an old grouch by the name of Eddie Sullivan, and he lived alone. No way did he have any daughters. If he had any, they would have likely killed him at some point. What a piece of work that guy was.”

“Well, maybe I’ve got my facts mixed up. So what do I owe you for the stamps?” She had come up empty on the sister, but salvaged postage for Christmas cards.

FOURTEEN

W
ith the breakfast rush over, the parking lot of the Mountain Cafe, some forty miles west of Denver, was nearly deserted. A few minutes early, Keller sat in his truck and thought about his situation. He was starting down a dangerous path and once he started there would be no going back, but he was determined to set things right.

Keller climbed out of his truck and headed inside the café, picking a booth in the back for maximum privacy. He sat down with his back to the wall allowing for a full view of the place. He took out his cell phone and checked for any messages. There were none.

“What can I get you, hon?” the waitress asked, approaching the table and armed with a pot of coffee.

“I’m expecting someone, but I wouldn’t mind a Diet Coke.”

“Comin’ right up,” she replied as she turned and walked back towards the bar.

Keller reached into his coat pocket and took out an old tape recorder. He didn’t like or trust the new digital recorders most deputies used. As an investigator, Jack made a habit of recording nearly every interview he conducted. He wasn’t sure what would come of this meeting but having an audio recording of whatever was said would be something of an insurance policy for him. He only hoped he would never need it.

“Here you go, partner.”

Keller sipped his drink and took a deep breath. He waited, nervously checking his watch.

The sunlight streaming through the café from a large window near the entrance made it difficult for him to see her at first. A few seconds later, a very angry Lisa Sullivan approached the booth.

“Why the hell did you drag me all the way out here?” she said angrily. “I’ve told you people a hundred times, it was an accident.”

“Look, just calm down,” Keller urged.

“You want something to drink?” asked the waitress.

“Iced tea, please.”

Lisa turned her attention back to the matter at hand.

“Where’s your partner?”

“It’s just me today.”

Lisa Sullivan tried to piece together what was happening. Her eyes narrowed.

“Wait a minute, I get it. You lure me out to the middle of nowhere. You’re one of those pervert cops that take advantage—”

Keller interrupted, “No, I’m not a pervert. Look, I know this is difficult for you, but you need to understand that I am here to help you.”

“Why would you help me? It seems like all you and your partner do is harass me. In fact, I’m thinking about filing a complaint against you with the department. This whole thing has been a nightmare—I keep telling you it was an accident, but you people don’t get that. And then you call me and say you need to talk with me again? I’m going to ask you one more time, and then I’m going to start screaming. What do you want?”

The look on the young woman’s face told Keller she meant it.

“Lisa, sit down. I need for you to listen to me very carefully. The picture on your refrigerator in your apartment… the one of you and your mother when you were three years old…”

Lisa reluctantly took a seat in the booth.

“You mean the one my dad took.”

“Yes, that one… I took that picture.”

A shocked and horrified look crossed her face.

“When things were still good between me and your mother.”

“Oh my God.”

Lisa slowly lowered her head into her hands and began to cry. Thirty years of sadness and anger poured out of her.

The waitress delivered the iced tea and glared at Keller. “Asshole,” she muttered.

Keller let it go. He knew what it looked like.

“Look, I need you to understand some things,” Keller said quietly.

“I’m not here as an investigator. I’m here as your father because you need my help.”

“Help? How dare you!” Suddenly, Lisa picked up her glass and flung the contents at Keller, hitting him squarely in the face.

“Like the way you helped my mother when you walked out on her? Like the way you walked out on your family?”

Tea covered Keller’s face and shirt. He made no attempt to dry himself off. He could see the waitress chuckling from across the restaurant.

“I know I hurt you. And you’ll never begin to know how sorry I am for that. But let me be clear about something. I didn’t leave you and your mother—she left me. Now, understand there were plenty of good reasons to leave me, but she’s the one that pulled the plug, not me.”

“You’re a fucking liar. You abandoned us. You left us without a goddamn word. You are dead to me—do you understand?”

Lisa started to get up. Keller grabbed her arm and looked up at his daughter, his face still dripping iced tea.

“Okay, I don’t know what your mother told you, but it didn’t happen that way. We can talk more about if you’d like, but right now we need to talk about what happened the other morning.”

Keller paused and looked directly into his daughter’s eyes.

“I know it wasn’t an accident, and you need to understand that George Lombard’s death is on your hands. And if you don’t listen to me, you’re going to prison.”

Lisa Sullivan looked at this man she barely knew. Her mouth quivered. Dazed, she slowly lowered herself back into the booth.

“I can help you. But I need to know what happened that morning.”

“I need to know what happened between you and my mother. Tell me what happened that day almost thirty years ago. I need to know that before we go any further.”

This was painful. In Lisa, Keller saw both a grown woman and the little girl he knew so long ago.

Lisa continued, “Mom refused to talk about it. She wouldn’t even tell me your name. She said you were dead. She changed our last name for God’s sake. And now, here you are sitting across from me. I’m owed some fucking answers.”

“Okay, then I’ll tell you. I was in my mid-twenties, a young detective with a big department in St. Louis, and I was feeling the pressure of a lot of new responsibilities. A wife, a new daughter, a mortgage on a house we really couldn’t afford… I don’t know. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I started working ungodly hours, which didn’t sit very well with your mother and understandably so. I started drinking heavily. I was trying to find peace in a bottle—a lot of bottles, actually. I realized that years later, and I got sober. Look, I’m an alcoholic. Being a drunk is a daily battle, but I’ve been sober for eight years now. Anyway, I came home one night, and you and your mother were gone. No note. Nothing. She just packed up, and the two of you were in the wind.”

Keller had fallen on his sword, but Lisa showed no emotion.

“Well, it sounds like you had it coming,” Lisa said. “So why didn’t you try to track us down? Can’t you do that as a cop? If you wanted to find us, you could have. So, basically you just left us behind. What, did you start a new family that wasn’t so much trouble?”

“Actually, I did, years later, but it ended in divorce. And just like your mother—she left me. We had a son. He was killed ten years ago in a DUI.”

Neither knew what to say next.

“After he died, I hit the bottle even harder. I lost my job. And then one day, I just had enough and stopped. It wasn’t easy like it sounds, but truth be told, his death saved my life.”

“What was his name?” Lisa asked, thinking about losing a stepbrother she never knew she had.

“Brian.”

“I’m sorry.”

Keller nodded quietly. “I was sorry to hear your mom has passed. She really deserved better.”

“She did. The cancer took her quickly. She didn’t suffer much,” Lisa answered, tearing up again.

“Once I got sober I thought about trying to find you, but I decided it best just to stay away. I figured I’d caused enough pain, and you were better off without me. Now, in some small way, I want to make it up to you. I want to help you.”

“You want to help me now? And how are you going to do that?”

Keller slipped his hand into his coat pocket and activated the tape recorder.

“We need to talk about the accident. I need to know what happened the night George Lombard died.”

“I already did this. I told you and your partner everything I know.”

Keller knew this conversation would be one of the toughest of his life. He needed Lisa to trust him and given that she didn’t even know he was alive ten minutes ago, it would be a tall order.

“I know I’m asking for something that I have no right to—for you to trust me. But you need to understand that I am here to help you. What we say here today will never be told to another human being. But you have to trust me. I’m sorry to put you in this position, but you really don’t have much choice. I know what happened that night. And if you don’t talk to me now, my partner will figure it out soon enough, and I won’t be able to help you.”

Keller was stretching the truth but hoped she would take the bait.

After a few minutes, the waitress reappeared. “What can I get y’all to eat?” she asked, with a sneer at Keller.

“Nothing for me,” Lisa said, avoiding eye contact.

“Maybe another Diet Coke,” said Keller.

“Okay. And honey, I’ll get you another iced tea,” the waitress said, turning away. “In case you need to reload.”

Lisa took a deep breath. “You think I could go to prison?

“Yes.”

She took another deep breath and out it came.

“The whole thing was Scott’s idea. He said he needed the money from some insurance policy, and once he had the money he could leave his wife and be with me. God, it sounds like such a cliché. How stupid do I look? I tried to back out, but he wouldn’t let me. He kept saying we’re almost there, we’re almost there.”

“Okay, start from the beginning. Tell me about you and Scott.”

“I met him at a Tripp Barnes concert. He was there with some friends. There was no wife, no wedding ring on his finger, nothing. He was just there having fun, and my girlfriend and I were sitting in the row ahead of him and his friends. At one point, they spilled some beer on us and started to apologize. He and I locked eyes and things just sparked. He jumped the row and took the seat next to me. We just enjoyed the rest of the concert, and when it was over he asked for my number. He called the next day.”

“So, the relationship began right away?”

“Yeah, it went pretty fast. We started to see each other a few days after the concert. It was just something that happened. I had no idea he was married. Not until way later. God, I must sound like such a fool.”

Keller sensed the change. Her anger was an opening. Lisa was starting to understand that Lennox had used her.

“What happened with Lombard? How did that whole thing go down?”

“Scott told me there was an insurance policy for $500,000 on Lombard’s life. He said they had taken the policies out when they became business partners a few years back. He kept saying with all that money we could start a whole new life together. And I believed him.”

Keller wondered why Lennox had lied to her about the $2 million policy and made a mental note to consider the motives.

“Scott hit him with his car the night before the accident, on purpose. He was already dead when I called in the accident the next morning.”

That explains the temperature of the body, Keller thought. It also meant Lisa hadn’t killed Lombard. Still, a conviction on accessory to murder would mean serious prison time. Things could get really bad if Lennox tried to hang her out to dry for the murder.

“Tell me more about when Scott hit Lombard. You say he hit him intentionally the night before—then out on the highway the next morning it was just staged to make it look like an accident?”

“Scott knew Lombard came into the office every Tuesday and Thursday evening to check the books. He always came in after everyone had left for the day, including Scott. That night, Lombard showed up and did whatever he does in the office. Scott put me upstairs by the window in the empty second floor office overlooking the loading dock. Then, he parked his car around the corner and waited for Lombard. It was maybe an hour. Lombard closed up and as he walked to his car, Scott ran him down. I don’t think he even heard it coming.”

“Did Scott’s windshield break when he hit him?”

“Oh yeah, he hit him pretty hard. He said he wanted to make sure he killed him.”

“You saw the whole thing?”

“I could see and hear everything. It made me sick to my stomach. Scott wanted to put the body on ice—to keep it from decomposing, he said.”

Mission accomplished, thought Keller. But by putting the body on ice, Lennox had given investigators a rather large clue with respect to Lombard’s body temperature. That was a mistake that could haunt Lennox at trial.

“Then what?”

“Scott waved me down from upstairs. I couldn’t believe how calm he was—like it was no big deal to him that he had just killed another human being. I ran to where the body was and helped Scott cover him with a blanket. He then went and got one of the refrigerated trucks and drove it over. Then we picked up the body and moved it into the truck.”

“When you put him in the ice truck do you remember if you laid him on his back or his stomach?”

Lisa looked blankly at her father. She considered it an odd question. “On his back.”

That explained the lividity issue.

“Okay, then what did you do?”