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Authors: L. J. Sellers

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BOOK: Rules of Crime
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“Start with the back bedroom,” Bruckner said. “I think you’ll find it interesting.” He and his partner left without further explanation.

Jackson’s first thought was Renee, but they would have brought her out. He hurried across the spacious living room and turned down the hallway. At the end, he stepped through the open door into a good-size room, partially filled with computers, scanners, and a high-end, freestanding printer. The blinds were fastened closed and a sense of secrecy loomed. Schak, who was leaning over a table looking at documents, turned and said, “He creates phony IDs.”

CHAPTER 37

Wednesday, January 11, 2:15 p.m.

River ordered coffee and pastries to be delivered from Full City, then called Agent Torres. “How’s Anderson?”

“Better. He slept for a while this morning and now he’s sitting in his office staring out the window. I think he’s sober, unless he has a stash I didn’t find last night.”

“No word from the kidnapper I assume?” She knew there was no point in asking. Torres would have called her.

“Not unless Anderson is keeping it from me.”

River had sent the tech people home to Portland the night before. The burner phones were impossible to trace and the kidnapper had gone silent. “The task force is meeting here in a few minutes if you want to join us.”

“As much as I’d like to get out of here, I hate leaving Anderson alone.”

“You’re a good man, Torres, but we’re not babysitters. Does he have family you can call?”

“I left a message with his sister in Los Angeles but I don’t know if she’s coming.”

“Try her again, then head this way. You can go home and get some rest afterward.”

River hung up and headed for the conference room. A vague guilt tried to work its way into her head. Long ago, when they’d found body parts in the basement and taken River’s father away, an FBI agent had been present in their home for nearly a week. Not the same agent; they’d taken turns with the overnight shift, but their presence had been comforting to her and her mother. But this was Eugene and they only had ten on staff, several of whom had been preoccupied with searching construction sites for Renee. River decided she would go see Anderson after the meeting.

While she waited for the group to arrive, she updated the board with what little she knew about Bartolo Diaz. Fouts was first to come in and she asked him what he thought about terminating the post at Anderson’s.

He shrugged. “Anderson’s part is over. We either find Renee or we don’t.”

“Harsh, but true.”

Two more agents came in, followed by a pretty woman River didn’t know. She held out her hand. “Detective Lara Evans. Sergeant Lammers asked me to join the task force.”

“Agent River. Welcome. We could use a fresh perspective.”

Evans took a seat and River tried to guess her age. Thirty? She seemed young to be a detective.

River looked at Gilson. “How are we coming on searching the construction sites?”

“We only have two left. They started with the most-remote places and worked their way in. And the site with the underground safe room was empty, so we’re not optimistic.”

A few minutes later, Jackson, Schakowski, and Quince came in. She noticed they were silent and their mouths had the same grim expression.

“What happened at Renaldi’s?”

“We didn’t find Renee.” Jackson slumped into a chair next to Evans and she reached over, touched his hand, and quickly pulled back.

Just a friendly gesture
, River wondered,
or was there more going on?

Jackson continued, “As if that weren’t bad enough, the animal control officer was bitten by one of the dogs, and we tasered Renaldi, who has a history of epileptic seizures. The citizens review board will probably ask for my resignation.”

“Fuck ’em,” Schak said. “They have no idea what our job is like.”

River empathized, but none of it was relevant to the investigation. “Did you find anything connecting Renaldi to either Renee’s kidnapping or Dakota’s death?”

Jackson shook his head, seeming weary. “We found a fake ID business, so we booked Renaldi into jail, but there was nothing linking him to either crime.”

“We still haven’t searched his computer though,” Schak added. “And now that we discovered his illegal-ID business, we can get a subpoena for his bank records.”

“I doubt if you’ll find any of the kidnapping money there.” River tapped Diaz’s name on the board. “Bartolo Diaz left his apartment yesterday afternoon and took all his personal things with him. That was after paying his neighbor the money he owed and telling her he needed a fresh start.” River turned to the board
and made a note. “He’s driving a silver Toyota and we have a statewide lookout for him.”

“How is Diaz connected?” Evans asked.

River hoped they wouldn’t have to brief her on everything. “He’s a known gang associate of Noah Tremel, the first ransom courier, and Diaz also bought a dog from Jacob Renaldi. So he knows all the players. Our working theory is that he picked up the second ransom, slipped away from a team of FBI agents, and left town with twenty grand last night.” She backtracked a bit. “Or he might have given Renaldi, or Talbot, a cut first. We don’t know. Did you find any cash?”

“A couple thousand in an envelope in a false-bottom drawer,” Jackson said. “We picked it up as evidence if you want to compare it to the serial numbers in the ransom money.”

“We didn’t have time to record the numbers.” River would send Renaldi’s cash to headquarters anyway, along with the glove and a few other items. She decided to bring it up again. “Any thoughts on the white glove found in Renee’s car?” She turned to Schak. “Anything like it at Renaldi’s?”

“We found some panties and a scarf that could be Dakota’s, but Renaldi admits she was there on many occasions.” Schak shrugged. “No gloves.”

Jackson suddenly sat up straighter. “I remember a robbery I worked about six months ago. A convenience store on Royal Avenue. After the perp left, the clerk found a playing card on the floor. A jack of spades. Someone had dropped it; either the robber or the customer before him.” Jackson grimaced. “I never solved the crime. It was a one-off, unlike most robberies, which are part of a string. The perp usually just keeps hitting stores or banks until he makes a mistake or someone identifies him.”

“What are you saying?” River wanted him to spell it out.

“It’s probably irrelevant, but someone mentioned
calling card
at the last meeting and it made me think about that card on the floor.” Jackson sounded unsure but he continued. “If a gang like the Westside Kings is involved, maybe the crimes are part of an initiation. And they leave a calling card as part of the—” Jackson paused, then finally said, “risk.”

“I’m intrigued.” River wrote
initiation
on the board. “But gangs aren’t usually that sophisticated in their crimes or initiations. They prefer an old-fashioned beat down.” She turned back to the group. “Any other crimes fit this pattern?”

No one had anything new, but Quince had something to add. “Both Tremel and Diaz are supposedly ex-gang members. At least according to Tremel’s girlfriend, Noah Tremel has been out of the gang life for a year. And she thought Diaz was too. So they may be working independently of the gang.”

“But still thugs,” Schak added. “Worse if they’re kidnapping people.”

After a silent moment—during which they mentally assessed whether kidnapping for ransom was really worse than home invasions and forcing women into prostitution—Detective Evans spoke up. “I’ve been looking through Dakota’s computer and paperwork for a few hours. She had nearly seventy thousand in debt from four credit cards and was getting notices from collection agencies.”

Schak whistled. “Holy shit. How does a single young woman run up that kind of debt?”

A dark feeling crept up River’s spine. “That kind of financial trouble could motivate someone to look for a big score.”

Jackson looked distressed. “Would Dakota do that to her own father?”

The thought made Jackson ill. He’d seen teenagers assault their own parents and drug addicts steal their single-mother’s grocery money, but this was different. Putting her father through that anguish—not to mention taking his life’s savings—was selfish beyond description. And it was all too close to home. Dakota was practically Katie’s stepsister. Jackson was shamefully pleased that Dakota would not be able to influence his daughter.

Evans turned and stared at him. “You’d met Dakota before this, right?”

“Yes, once, for a family dinner. She seemed smart. And normal.”

“Well, she’s not.” Evans jerked back, as if she’d just had a revelation. “I just realized Dakota’s silver Honda matches the description of the car seen leaving the hospital in the assault case I’m working. The witness finally called me an hour ago. A woman was stripped and beaten in the university graveyard, then dumped at the hospital with internal injuries. She’s still in a coma.”

“Silver Toyotas and Hondas are the most common car on the road,” Schak said. “And the gangbangers love ’em.”

Evans jumped up and began to pace. “Jackson, you searched Dakota’s place. Does she own golf clubs?”

He remembered the clubs in the trunk of her car. “Yes, why?”

“Joe at the crime lab says the victim’s bruises could have been made by a golf club. I want to bring in her set for comparison.”

River held up her hands. “How is any of this connected to Renee Jackson? Who still happens to be missing. She has to be our priority.”

Scenarios were finally coming together for Jackson. “If Dakota orchestrated the kidnapping, that opens up new places to look for Renee.”

“Wait a minute.” Schak shook his head. “If Dakota is the kidnapper, who killed her and why? Or was her death an accident?”

“Renaldi and the gang boys were probably helping Dakota,” Jackson suggested. “Then Renaldi turned on her when the money ended up in the river.”

“Then one of the bangers must have orchestrated the second money drop,” Schak said.

“Or maybe it was someone else.” Evans’ eyes sparked with excitement as she grabbed her laptop and opened it. “I looked at those photos you mentioned, Jackson. And I recognized one or two of the people.” Evans clicked open a digital folder. “This older guy on the left is Austin Hartwell. He owns the sorority house connected to my assault case.” Evans turned the monitor toward Jackson and pointed to a picture of a pretty blonde. “This woman looks so much like my suspect, Taylor Harris, I think it must be her sister, Ashley. She used to be the house leader. Clearly, Ashley and Hartwell are both good friends of Dakota’s, and they even take vacations together.”

“We need to talk to Anderson again.” Jackson stood, feeling charged. This case was about to break wide open. “Agent River, I think you should come with me.”

Evans’ face fell and Jackson backtracked. “Good work, Evans. Your insight has been critical. But the kidnapping is River’s case and she has a rapport with Anderson.”

“I understand. I’d like to search Dakota’s place again and bring in her golf clubs. I have a case to solve too.”

“They’re in the trunk of her car.” Jackson turned to Schak and Quince. “Find out what you can about Austin Hartwell and the others in the photos. Be on standby.”

As River started to adjourn the meeting, her cell phone rang. She took the call, so it had to be important. After a brief minute, she hung up and said, “Daniel Talbot left his office today and purposely lost our tail. We have to consider that he may be on his way to either release or silence Renee.”

CHAPTER 38

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