The Night Is Deep (A Liam Dempsey Thriller Book 2) (12 page)

Outside the sky had sunk lower and a light rain fell. Superior was a tumult of hundreds of cresting whitecaps. They hurried to the car and climbed inside, both shrugging off the cold rain from their jackets. Perring drew out her cell phone and dialed as she started the car but didn’t put it in drive.

“Blair. Were you able to pull up Erickson’s record? Um hmm. Okay. How about the neighborhood?” She listened for a long time and frowned. “Fuck. All right. Do a run-up of Dade’s friends and acquaintances at his business and send it over to me. Yeah, we’ve already been there. Not sure. Okay.” She ended the call and sat back in her seat. “Erickson doesn’t have a record.”

“Nothing?”

“Not even a speeding ticket.”

“And the neighborhood canvass?”

“Nada.”

Liam stared out the window at the churning water. “Is there someone who’s been at your precinct long enough to have arrested Erickson on the Jenner charge?”

“Yeah. Actually Mills might know about it. He was uniform up until two years ago and he’s about the right age.”

“Worth a try.”

Perring drove them through the sodden streets, everything outside the windows the same color as the sky. As they pulled past the squad car positioned at the end of Owen’s drive, a fork of blue lightning stabbed the clouds above the lake, crawling away through the gray until it winked out. They jogged to the house. Liam took off his coat, reveling in the warmth and dryness of the entry.

Sanders appeared in the archway and watched them come in. “So?” he asked as Perring neared him.

“I’ll fill you in in a minute. Where’s Mills?”

“In the bathroom.”

“Is Owen awake yet?” Liam asked.

Sanders gazed coldly at him for a moment. “He just came down. He’s having coffee in the living room.”

“Thanks.” Sanders didn’t budge from the place he stood. Liam sidled past the older detective, brushing his shoulder with his own. He found Owen standing at the windows in the living room nursing a steaming cup of coffee. New lines seemed to have formed around his weary eyes.

“Morning,” Liam said.

“Morning.”

“You got some rest.”

“Yeah. I think my mind just finally shut down.”

“Probably a good thing.”

Owen dropped his gaze from the waves and stared into his cup. “I want to apologize for how I acted yesterday. You’re right, Valerie needs me now more than ever and everyone is doing their best to help.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I have no idea how I would cope with what you’re going through.”

“I do. You’d be out there hunting the bastard.”

The thoughts from earlier that morning rose in his mind along with the imagery of the dream. Liam started to reply but Perring and Sanders entered the room, stopping behind the couch.

“How are you today, Mr. Farrow?” Perring asked.

“Doing okay.”

“Good. Have you secured the money yet?”

“Yes. It’s being wired into three separate banks later this afternoon. I’ll have to go and pick it up personally.”

“We’ll wait on that until the drop location’s been determined. We don’t want you carrying around two million in cash until we have to.”

“While we’re talking about that, how is this going to be handled when we receive the details about getting Valerie back?”

Perring sighed. “That’s difficult to say since we don’t know the specifics yet. But generally speaking we’ll arrange the exchange for your wife and comply with all of the kidnapper’s demands. When everything is set we’ll strategically place our SWAT teams around the exchange site. Depending on who is requested to bring the money, we’ll have multiple officers hidden in a crowd if the meeting place is public, and if it’s not they’ll be seconds away if they’re needed. In the event that the exchange doesn’t go as planned, because in all honesty we do not intend to let this person walk away with two million dollars, we’ll have a small tracking device hidden within the money.”

“What if something goes wrong?” Owen asked.

“Nothing is going to go wrong, Mr. Farrow. We’re going to take every precaution,” Sanders said. “Besides, there’s a good chance that we’ll get this guy before we ever have to meet his demands.”

“Was that where you both were this morning?” Owen said, addressing Liam and Perring. “Following up a lead?” Liam glanced at Perring, seeing the look in her eyes that was as clear as a shout.
Not a word.

“It was a possibility but turned out to be inconclusive,” Perring said. “But I promise you the moment we have something solid, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I want to say, you’ve all been great,” Owen said, looking down again. “I’m sorry if I was harsh with any of you yesterday.”

“No apology needed,” Sanders said.

“Absolutely not,” Perring said. “Liam, could you join us in the kitchen please?”

He nodded and left Owen to stare out at the lake as he followed Perring and Sanders into the next room. He poured himself a cup of coffee even though his stomach was a cold and aching hole in his center that demanded solid food.

“I filled Rex in on the situation with Erickson and we spoke to Mills,” Perring said.

“And?”

“He didn’t make the arrest in the assault case but a friend of his did who’s since retired. Apparently shortly after Alexandra’s suicide, Erickson and two of his friends accosted Jenner on a road near his home.”

“How did they know him?”

“They were a year or so older but went to the same high school.”

Liam ticked his fingers off. “So you’re saying both Webb girls, Owen, Jenner, and these three guys all went to the same high school?”

“Yes.” Liam started to continue but Perring cut him off. “Let me finish.”

“Okay.”

“Jenner was walking home one evening and they cut him off in a vehicle and beat him pretty badly.”

“How badly?” Liam said.

“From what Mills said he spent several weeks in the hospital with a fractured orbital bone, four broken ribs, a punctured lung along with multiple bruises and cuts.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Who were the other two men with Erickson?”

“Gage Rowe and Marshall Davis. Another couple of kids who ran with Erickson.”

“And how did they get off without serving time for the attack? Sounds like they nearly killed him.”

“Jenner refused to press charges. His mother was the one that called the police. She showed up just as the three were leaving. Dickson might have died if she hadn’t come along right then.”

Liam set his coffee down, the interior of his stomach mimicking the lake outside. “Why didn’t he press charges?”

Perring shrugged. “I think he knew it was another losing battle. Suppose he figured money would get thrown at lawyers until the kids got off. I’m guessing he wanted to be done with it.”

“So now we have Erickson murdered in his home.” Liam glanced at the two detectives. “And you’re looking at Dickson as a prime suspect, aren’t you?”

Sanders shrugged. “Shoe fits.”

“Why would he wait this long to get revenge?”

“Finally got up the courage. Who knows? Point is we’ve got motive out the ass for Jenner to want Erickson dead,” Sanders said.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Liam said quietly.

“Well it’s a good thing you’re not in charge of this then,” Sanders growled.

“Rex . . .” Perring said.

“No, seriously. You might be a nice guy, Liam, but you’re getting too big for your britches. This is our case, not yours, so from now on you keep your opinions to yourself.”

Liam bristled but clenched his jaw, keeping his retort from flying free.

“Listen, we need to cool it here,” Perring said. “We’re all on the same side, let’s remember that.” She was about to continue when her phone chimed and she drew it out, frowning at the display. “Perring,” she said, moving into the dining room. Sanders stalked to the sink and rinsed out a coffee cup before turning to stare at Liam. Liam matched his gaze and refused to blink, neither of them giving in until Perring stepped into the kitchen, a strange expression on her face.

“Who was it?” Sanders asked.

“The station.” She looked down at the phone in her hand as if it had just bitten her. “The bartender that provided Jenner’s alibi for the night of Valerie’s disappearance just came in and changed his story. He said Jenner left well before nine o’clock that night.”

CHAPTER 11

Liam paced across the living room for what seemed like the thousandth time.

Perring had departed shortly after receiving the call possibly implicating Jenner, leaving Sanders in charge of the task force once again. The house was quiet save for the constant burble of the coffeepots in the kitchen and dining room. Rain continued to slash at the windows, cutting silver scars across the panes that withered away before others took their place. Liam could hear Owen’s voice murmuring in the office off the living room. He’d been on the phone almost constantly since Perring had left, his voice cracking at times.

Liam finally gave up his pacing and eased into a chair, weariness a physical thing hovering over him. The basic sandwich he’d thrown together and wolfed down a half-hour ago was a brick in his stomach. He let his vision grow hazy as the details of the last forty hours washed over him. Erickson and his two high school friends had assaulted Jenner, and now Erickson was dead. He’d done a little research on Gage Rowe and Marshall Davis. Rowe owned three restaurants in town, apparently paid for by some savvy stock investments while he was a young man. The bits of information on the Internet included Rowe’s picture in the local paper for donating several thousand dollars a year to various children’s charities. He looked like a GQ model with clean-cut good looks and expensive suits.

Marshall Davis was a completely different story. Davis had come from a poor household on the bad side of town and hadn’t been able to pull himself out of the life he grew up in. There were six public notices attached to Davis’s name in the last five years. Two charges for shoplifting, two for drunk and disorderly conduct, one aggravated assault, and a single class-one drug charge with intent to sell. The latter had landed him in jail for a stint of seven months before he was released. Davis had most likely given the DA a plea in exchange for a suspension of sentence.

A local pariah, two successful businessmen, a drug dealer, and a mayoral candidate’s wife abducted from her home.

He put his fingers to his temples and without warning the cold case he’d been working on before coming to Duluth sprang forward from the darkness of his memory. What had made him think of Dennis Sandow’s face amongst the whirlwind of facts he was trying to sort? It took nearly a minute for the answer to come to him. Sandow’s case was unsolved because something had been overlooked. He was sure of it. There was something in the notes or photos that he’d pored over for hours at a time. It was staring him right in the face. And the same was true of Valerie’s disappearance, along with Erickson’s murder. There was some detail that connected them, but the more he changed angles and theories, the fainter it became. It was like a fine splinter beneath the skin, irritating but invisible.

Owen stepped into the room and rubbed at his eyes.

“Get all your calls in?” Liam asked.

“Yeah. Pretty sure. Caulston took the longest. He didn’t actually say ‘I told you so’ about Jenner’s alibi falling through, but I could hear it in his voice.” Owen strode to the nearest chair and sat down as if it were covered with broken glass. He adjusted himself, then sighed, looking through the streaked windows to the lake beyond. “God I hope she’s all right,” he nearly whispered. Liam glanced at his friend, hovering over what he was about to do before wading in.

“Did you know a Dade Erickson?” Liam asked.

Owen glanced at him and slowly frowned. “Not well. Why?”

“You and Valerie went to high school with him, right?”

“Yeah. He graduated with us. I had one class with him at college. Why?”

“Just curious. Did you and Valerie have any dealings with him on a professional level?”

“No. Liam, what’s this about? Why are you asking about Dade?”

Liam hesitated, glancing around. Sanders was sitting at the dining room table speaking with one of the task force members. Liam looked back at Owen and lowered his voice. “Dade was killed last night in his home.”

“What? You’re joking. Do they have someone in custody?”

“Not yet. It got me thinking that there might be some connection between Valerie’s kidnapping and his murder.”

Owen’s face seemed to lose a little color, his skin matching the gray light that filtered into the room. “What could that be?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Could it be Jenner? I know Dade and a couple of his friends did a number on him after Alexandra died.”

“I didn’t get that impression when I spoke with him.”

“But what about the bartender? He said Jenner left way earlier.”

“That’s just it,” Liam said, leaning forward. “Why’d he change his story?”

“Maybe he’s afraid of Jenner. Maybe he threatened him.”

Liam began to tap his forehead, the metronomic sensation making his scalp tingle. “How about Gage Rowe or Marshall Davis? Did you or Valerie know either of them?”

Owen shook his head. “I think I had a study hall with Marshall in high school. We talked a couple of times but that was it. It was a pretty big graduating class, there was no way to know everyone.”

“How about Alexandra? Did she know them?”

“No. She was a year younger than them. Valerie would’ve mentioned that to me at some point over the years. I mean, Caulston would’ve been thrilled if Alexandra had been dating any of them, especially Erickson since he was loaded and came from a good family. No, Val would have said something.” He looked down at the carpet and seemed to nod to himself.

“I did a little digging on Davis and it looks like he went off the deep end after he graduated,” Liam said.

“Yeah,” Owen said, absently. “Yeah, I think I heard he got into trouble.”

“You wouldn’t know where either of them live, would you?”

“Who, Rowe or Davis?” Liam nodded. “No. Not really. Rowe is a friend of an associate of mine though and I heard that he bought a place on the shore about an hour or so north of Duluth. He got the land dirt cheap because an earthquake knocked the house into Superior a few years ago. You might’ve heard about it. Some horror author owned it, Lance something or other.”

“An earthquake? Up here? Weird.”

“Yeah, it was in all the papers. Anyway Rowe bought the land and built a big house up there from what my associate said, spared no expense.”

Liam was about to ask another question when he heard the front door open. A moment later Perring appeared in the dining room. She looked his way before motioning to Sanders. The two detectives came into the living room as Liam and Owen stood.

“What did you find out?” Owen asked.

“I spoke with Jim Houston, the bartender. It was only him and Jenner in the bar that night and he’d had quite a few drinks himself. He said that Jenner left before nine p.m. and then returned around one thirty in the morning right before closing. He had one drink and then left before Houston closed up. When the officer came to question him the next morning he told him what he remembered. It was only after sobering up completely that he recalled Jenner leaving for the span of time between nine and one thirty.”

“Did he mention how Jenner was acting that night?” Sanders asked.

“He said he was twitchy when he first came in, like he was waiting for something to happen.”

“Shit,” Sanders said, rubbing his jaw. “You get a warrant?”

“Should have one within the hour.”

“What about the basement of the abandoned printing building?” Liam asked. “You’re saying Jenner left the bar near his home, drove across town, broke in here, took Valerie to the basement of the building, left her there, and then went back for a nightcap?” Liam glanced around the circle. “Does that sound logical to you?”

“If he’s the one that took Mrs. Farrow do you think logic was a strong factor in his mind?” Sanders said. Before Liam could answer, Perring’s cell rang and she stepped away to answer it.

“If Jenner had been drinking I guess that would explain the rough way the door was broken into,” Owen said.

“Exactly,” Sanders said triumphantly, looking directly at Liam.

“There’s a chance someone’s framing Jenner you know,” Liam said. “The bartender’s change of story is odd.”

“He was drunk as a lord. You ever forget something when you’ve been drinking, Liam?” Sanders sneered.

“I’m starting to regret giving you those cigarettes, Rex.” Sanders’s lips curled and he was about to reply when Perring moved back toward them.

“Could I speak with you both in the kitchen?” she said. They followed her into the next room and she shut the open doors leading to the living room before turning to them. “The toxicology report came back on Erickson. There was a fairly high amount of diphenhydramine in his system. It’s normally found in over-the-counter sleep aids. Looks like it was concentrated in something he either ate or drank right before he was attacked. The cause of death was a derivative of sodium hydroxide that burned through his esophagus as well as his stomach lining causing massive internal bleeding.”

“My God,” Sanders breathed. “Do they know where it came from?”

“It’s a type of lye that’s found in paint stripper used on airplanes and vehicles.” She glanced at Liam. “Something a mechanic or a junkyard might have on hand.”

“Sonofabitch,” Sanders said.

“That doesn’t prove that Jenner did it,” Liam said.

“Oh what the hell do you want, Liam? A fucking neon sign from God in the sky above the guy’s house that says ‘he’s guilty’?”

“Rex, calm down,” Perring said. “Liam, why are you so convinced Jenner isn’t responsible?”

“Regardless of being illogical enough to kidnap or murder someone, I don’t think a person would take the risk of leaving the victim in a basement overnight and then moving them again in the morning. Why not bring her back to his own house right away? And this bartender doesn’t sound credible. He could be lying or doesn’t truly remember what really happened at all. And . . .” Liam hesitated, knowing what his next statement would bring him. He didn’t care. “Jenner didn’t seem capable of any of this when I spoke with him yesterday.”

Perring’s face fell and she closed her eyes. “You did what?”

“I went to speak with him yesterday morning about Alexandra and Valerie.”

“You dumb shit,” Sanders growled. “Did you compromise this investigation?”

“No. I just talked with him. He’s a drunk and he seems unstable, but I don’t think he had anything to do with either incident.”

“That’s it, Liam. I’m sorry, but that’s unacceptable. You stepped over the line. I want you to pack up and leave the premises.” Perring’s eyes were hard now, two glittering stones in her face. “I’ve been lenient on account of Mr. Farrow’s wishes, but this is too far.” Her cell phone rang again and Liam was sure she was going to ignore it and keep berating him, but she stopped, turning away again to answer it.

“What? You’re fucking kidding.” She put a hand against the counter before sighing. “Which channel? Thanks.” She barely gave them a glance as she opened the doors into the living room and approached the large flat-screen TV. Liam and Sanders walked behind her, Sanders shooting a heavy look of disdain at Liam. Perring flipped the television on, clicking through channels until a female reporter with tightly cropped blond hair appeared. She was speaking beneath an umbrella on the corner of a city street.

“—sources tell us that two nights ago Mrs. Valerie Farrow, the reclusive wife of Duluth Mayoral candidate Owen Farrow, was abducted from their residence on London Road.”

The screen cut to a large picture of Valerie smiling. She looked younger and Liam realized the news station must have used a photo from her college years or before.

“As of this broadcast the authorities have received a ransom demand of an unknown amount and are in negotiations with the kidnappers. Sources say that former homicide detective Liam Dempsey, who was embroiled in the slayings in Tallston, Minnesota, last year, has been brought onto the case as a police consultant. If any of our viewers have information regarding Mrs. Farrow’s disappearance, please alert the police. We’ll be on scene relating the unfolding events as they become available in this breaking story. I’m Debra Destin reporting for Channel Four News.”

The screen cut to an anchor desk and Perring turned the TV off before tossing the remote onto a couch cushion. Without turning around, she said, “Who else did you speak to, Liam?”

He was at a loss for a split second and then absorbed her question for what it was. “I didn’t talk to the press.”

“So you’re saying there’s a leak in our task force?” Sanders said.

“I’m saying,” Liam said, pinning Sanders with a stare, “that I’m not the leak.”

“Let’s book this fucker for obstruction of justice,” Sanders said, glancing at Perring.

“What does this mean for Valerie?” Owen asked.

“It means we need to hurry,” Perring said, finally looking at Liam. There was no emotion on her face now, only dismissal. Her cell phone chirped and she checked it. “We got the warrant. SWAT’s already primed. Let’s go.” She turned to Liam. “What I said in the kitchen holds, Mr. Dempsey. I want you gone when I come back.”

“Wait a minute,” Owen said. “I want Liam here.”

“He’s interfering with the case now, Mr. Farrow, and if he continues to do so he’ll put your wife’s life at risk. It’s final. You can call the chief if you want but the position won’t change. Right now we’re going to go and search Dickson Jenner’s residence. Hopefully he’s holding Valerie there and this will all be over in a matter of hours and you’ll have your wife back.”

“I’m coming with,” Owen said, beginning to move toward the door.

“No. You need to stay here,” Perring said. “I allowed you to come along on the prior raid against my better judgment. I’ve done several things in the last few days against my better judgment,” she said, glancing coldly at Liam. Without another word, Perring and Sanders left the room, saying something to the task force before heading toward the door. Three members around the dining room table remained seated while two others rose and followed the detectives outside.

Liam unclenched his fists. “I’m sorry, Owen. I didn’t mean for things to come to this.”

“I know you were trying to help. But maybe they’re right. You’re very good at what you do, but maybe they can take it from here. I appreciate all you’ve done, but I can’t risk Val’s safety either.” His voice was hollow. Defeated. “If you want you can stay in town. Maybe Perring will have a change of heart. I know the manager of the Radisson. I could call—”