“Yeah, I understand.” Spats spun a pencil in his hand. “Where do you work?”
“The Five Guys on Colorado Boulevard. It sucks, but the money’s okay. I’m saving for a car, and I need to help pay for my college.”
“Where do you want to go?” Spats asked.
“I’d like to go to a school in California, maybe UCLA or USC.” Caitlyn smiled shyly. “We went to California a few times on vacation, and I really like the beach. I think it’d be fun to go to school out there.”
“We’ll see,” Leah said. “If you keep your grades up and get a scholarship, I think it could happen.”
“What would Cody talk to you about?” Spats asked the question to both of them.
“Nothing in particular,” Leah said. “Dave told you that Cody had drug and alcohol problems at one point?”
Spats nodded. “Yes, he did.” He waited for them to fill in more.
Leah glanced at her daughter, then back to Spats, a little embarrassed. “That was frustrating, no doubt. I mean, I get that kids want to party some, that kind of thing. But for Cody, it got completely out of hand. He couldn’t control it, even though he kept denying that he had a problem. And he stole from us, and other people. Mostly money, sometimes things he could pawn. We finally got him into rehab and that worked for a while. Then he started using again. We threatened to put him into rehab again, although I don’t know how we would’ve paid for it. The first time was almost more than we could handle, but you do what you have to do. Anyway, a second rehab scared him, and he agreed to go to counseling and AA and NA. His grades came back up, and he managed to graduate from high school.”
Ernie glanced at Caitlyn, and she nodded. He stared at her, and she finally spoke.
“That’s true,” she said softly. “Cody wasn’t doing any drugs now, as far as I know. He was doing a lot better.”
There was something in her expression, along with a quick dart of her gaze to her mom, that had Spats wondering what she was holding back. Something she didn’t want her mother to know about? Spats smiled at her, but she kept her mouth shut. He looked back at Leah.
“Cody was in college, correct?”
Leah nodded. “Yes, Metro. He was getting basic courses out of the way. He hadn’t yet determined what he wanted to do. He was doing all right, though.”
“You’re sure no drinking or drugging now?” Spats pressed.
Leah shook her head. “As I said, no. Not that I’m aware of.”
“Was he in any kind of trouble?” Spats asked.
Leah ran a hand across the table, her fingers tracing someone’s name that had been scratched into the surface. She took a long time to answer. “I think there was some kind of issue between Cody and his roommate, Austin. They’d gotten in a fight a time or two recently, and Cody told me that he was considering moving out.”
Spats glanced at Caitlyn. Her face was blank. He looked back at Leah.
“These were physical fights?”
Leah made eye contact. “No, just arguments. Cody told me they were loud enough that a neighbor called the manager about a fight, and that the manager threatened to call the police.” She briefly put a hand over her eyes, momentarily exasperated. “I don’t think the manager did, though. And Cody said he and Austin were careful after that.”
Spats directed his attention at Caitlyn. “Did Cody talk to you about any of this?”
Caitlyn bit the corner of her mouth and glanced at her mother. “He told me one time about the arguments, but he didn’t share a lot of details.”
“What did he share?” Spats asked her, noting that she was dodging the full extent of the question.
She shifted dramatically. “He thought Austin was …” She glanced at her mother, then said, “an asshole. Austin would sometimes push Cody into doing things he didn’t want to, and that pissed Cody off.”
“What things?” Spats pinned a hard look on her.
She shrugged. “Like wanting Cody to drink, telling him it wouldn’t be a big deal, that Cody wouldn’t relapse.” Her chin jutted up. “But it would be a big deal for Cody. He couldn’t handle drugs and alcohol, no matter how much he used to say that he could. And he was being cool about it, watching himself so that he wouldn’t get into trouble.”
He heard the heat in her voice. “You don’t think much of Austin?”
Caitlyn shook her head vehemently. “He shouldn’t have been pushing Cody.”
Spats nodded agreement. “Did Cody tell you any more about Austin?”
“No.” She glanced away.
It was a lie. But again, Spats could tell she didn’t want to talk in front of her mother. And she seemed a little scared. He could get her into a room by herself, but with her mom waiting outside, it wouldn’t be the best way to get any information from her. Then Caitlyn would be worried about having to face her mom.
“I hadn’t heard that Cody didn’t like Austin that much,” Leah murmured. “Just that they were fighting.”
“Cody was scared to talk to you,” Caitlyn said. “He was worried that you would jump to conclusions that he was actually using again, not just that somebody was pushing him into it.”
Leah’s lip trembled. “I wouldn’t have done that.”
Spats felt for her, but he wasn’t so sure. He knew that with his eleven-year-old daughter, Jada, that he made assumptions about what he thought she was up to, or what she thought about various things, and he was often wrong.
“Austin goes to Metro, too?” Spats asked.
“Yes,” Leah said.
Spats leaned in. “Was Cody scared of anyone?”
They both shook their heads.
“Would Austin come after Cody?” he asked.
Leah seemed surprised, and Caitlyn shrugged.
“If you mean, would he kill Cody, I don’t think so,” Caitlyn said. “I don’t know if Austin knows anything about guns. I don’t think Cody did, and I never heard him talk about Austin having one.”
Leah nodded. “I never heard that, either.” Her nose wrinkled. “And I don’t see Austin being able to shoot …” She stopped for a moment. “I mean, I guess I don’t know that much about Austin, but would he be capable of killing …” She couldn’t bring herself to say her son’s name. “I don’t think so.”
Spats moved on. “Did you ever hear Cody talk about anybody else that might want to hurt him?”
Another round of headshakes.
“Cody had an ex-girlfriend, Samantha,” Leah said. “But they broke up. I think they still might be friends. I don’t think she would have any reason to want to harm Cody.”
Caitlyn’s mouth twisted up. “Yeah, she was still in love with Cody, so I don’t think she would’ve done anything.”
Leah stared at her. “I hadn’t heard that.”
Caitlyn gave a small smile. “That’s what Cody told me.”
Leah shrugged. “You don’t know all about your kids, do you?”
“Yes, that’s true,” Spats said. “How long had Cody been working at Charlie’s?”
Leah thought for a second. “About a year. I don’t think he particularly liked it, but it was helping pay some bills, and as he would joke, it was legal.” A not-so-subtle reference to his past.
Spats nodded. “Did he mention any issues with anybody at the restaurant?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Leah said.
This didn’t match what Spats had heard from the restaurant manager that he’d spoken to last night. He turned to Caitlyn. She hesitated.
“What did you hear?” Spats asked.
“Nothing, just that he didn’t like a guy named Rob.”
For the third time, Spats was sure she wasn’t telling him everything. This time he decided to press a little. He arched an eyebrow.
“Rob who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you sure that’s it?”
Caitlyn forced herself not to look at her mother. “Yeah, it was just a little thing, they just didn’t get along.” She sat a little
straighter. “I know what you’re asking. Would any of these people want to kill Cody?” She crossed her arms, with now the slightest bit of defiance. “They wouldn’t, at least not from anything Cody told me.”
Spats held up his palms, as if in supplication. “Hey, I know. But I have to ask the questions, you know?”
The little smile returned. “I know, I just …” Now the tears suddenly came. “I just can’t believe this. Who would want to murder Cody?”
Leah reached out and grabbed Caitlyn’s arm. “It’s okay, honey.”
Spats wondered about Caitlyn’s defensiveness of Cody’s associates. She had to know more, and he knew he had to figure out a way to get her to open up to him. Spats turned to Leah.
“From what you know, would you agree? Nobody Cody knew would want to murder him?”
The statement was blunt, and she gulped. “No. I’ve been racking my brain all night long, how this could have happened, who would’ve wanted to do that to him. Even if he was drinking and drugging, I don’t think he would’ve made an enemy who would’ve wanted to kill him. He wasn’t in anything really bad, just petty theft. I don’t understand.”
“You’re sure he wasn’t associating with any of that drug crowd now?” Spats asked.
Leah nodded. “No, those guys aren’t around. One of them, Brad, moved out of state, and I think another is in Colorado Springs.”
Spats glanced at Caitlyn, and she nodded. This he believed. However, he wondered about other, more recent associates of Cody’s that Caitlyn might know about.
He went on. “Would it be okay if we went through his belongings at his apartment?”
“Yes,” Leah said. “I don’t know Austin’s schedule. I think he’s in and out throughout the day.”
“I’ll work it out,” Spats said.
“I haven’t had time to go over there.” Leah stared past him. “But I guess I’ll have to.” Her gaze came back to him. “Is there anything else?”
“Not for the moment,” Spats said. “I appreciate your coming down here to talk to me.” He pushed a business card across the table to Leah. “That has all of my contact info. If you think of anything else, I would certainly appreciate a call.”
She took the card and stuffed it and her tissue into her purse. “There’s so much to do. We have to go to the church, to the cemetery.” She suddenly choked back a sob.
“I have to go to work soon, Mom,” Caitlyn said. She looked at Spats. “I want to think about something else, you know?”
“I do,” he replied.
She twisted up her face. “It’s busy at lunch.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Leah asked her.
“Uh-huh.” Caitlyn stared at the floor.
“I want to know what happened to my son,” Leah said.
Spats nodded. “I’ll do everything I can to answer that question.”
Chapter Sixteen
When Spats got back to his desk, everybody was gone, even Commander Rizzo. Spats suspected he was tied up with Chief Follett.
“Better him than me,” Spats muttered. He didn’t dislike Follett, but he wasn’t fond of him, either.
Spats fixed a cup of coffee, sat down and smoothed non-existent wrinkles from his shirt, and logged onto his laptop. He needed to get a warrant to search Cody Sheen’s apartment, and once he got that, the apartment would be his next stop. After that, he wanted to swing by the Five Guys where Cody’s sister, Caitlyn, worked. He hoped he might get a few minutes of her time without her mother being there, and it would be a safe place for Caitlyn to talk to him, with her co-workers around instead of one-on-one with him somewhere.
He felt an urgency to keep moving as he worked his way through the warrant. He smiled to himself as he typed on the laptop, thinking about what Sarah would say. She always said he was her go-to guy when it came to warrants, that he knew how to sweet-talk judges into getting them signed. It was true, he had a few judges that he had a great rapport with, and more often than not, they did sign off on his warrants without problems. But even though he made it look like a seamless process, he put a lot of thought into writing his warrants, and over the years he’d gotten good at it. He knew the language to use, and which details judges needed in his warrants, and he rarely made mistakes.
He thought for a minute, then typed up all the pertinent information of Cody Sheen’s murder so far, including the victim’s name, details of the crime scene, and what information the detectives had so far. He drank some coffee and started working on the main part of the warrant, detailing why he wanted to search Cody Sheen’s entire apartment for anything material to his case, including searching for a weapon potentially used at the crime scene. At this point, Spats had no idea whether Cody’s roommate had shot him, or whether he even knew about the murder. But he was covering his bases. He thought for a moment, then continued with the warrant. He also asked to confiscate any of Cody’s electronics that might be in the apartment. Spats was a hunt-and-peck typist, but he was fast at it. Even so, it took him several minutes to fill out the template for the warrant. When he finished, he gulped down the last of his coffee while he printed the warrant. He retrieved the papers from the printer and folded them neatly, stuffed them in his coat pocket, and walked out of the room.
As he left the station, he ran into a couple of detectives who encouraged him to keep at it, to find whoever tried to kill Sarah. Word had spread fast, and everyone in the department wanted that person caught. Spats felt his gut tighten, his own anger coming to the surface. He told them they’d get whoever the perpetrator was, then he walked to his dark sedan and got in.
It was a short drive to the Denver District Courthouse, and he parked in a metered space on the street and hurried inside. He nodded at the officer at security – he’d seen her here enough times – and she smiled at him.
“How’s your day going?” she asked. She seemed a little too chipper with him, probably hadn’t heard the news about Sarah.
“It’s going all right,” Spats said. “I have to see a judge about a warrant.”
She laughed as she gave him back his keys, wallet, and gun. “Another day in the life,” she smiled.
He nodded, holstered his gun and adjusted his coat, and headed down a hall to an elevator. There were a few judges that he liked to go to, two men and a woman, that he’d built a good understanding with, judges that were thorough but would help him get what he needed. He tried Judge Drew Gordon first, but his personal assistant said that he was in court. If Spats wanted him to, the assistant said he could get an officer to interrupt the judge, but he didn’t want to do that if he didn’t have to. Spats tried Judge Anthony Romero next, but it was clear he was also in court. Spats lucked out with Judge Rhonda Vogel, who was in her office.
“Let me see if she has a minute for you,” Lana, the judge’s assistant said. She picked up a phone and dialed an extension, spoke into it for a moment, and then nodded at Spats. “She’ll make a few minutes for you.”
She pointed toward the judge’s door, and Spats crossed the room, tapped on it, then opened it.
“Spats, good to see you.”
Judge Rhonda Vogel was a tall black woman with a stately presence about her. Of the three judges, she was his favorite. She was smart, prudent, and on occasion, she had a great sense of humor. She had a pretty face, accentuated by shoulder-length hair. She waved a hand for him to take a seat across from her large mahogany desk, then folded her hands and rested them on the surface next to a framed photo of her with her husband and two sons. Sadness flickered in her dark eyes. “I heard about your partner, Sarah, on the news. I am so sorry.” Her concern was absolutely genuine.
Spats nodded. “What all was shared with the press?”
“Not much, just that someone tried to gun her down, and that there are two other active murder investigations where the victims were shot last night at long range.”
“That sums it up. The last twelve hours have been hell.” He told her a little bit about Cody Sheen and N
ick Armistead’s murders. When he finished, she put a finger to her mouth pensively.
“Someone had it in for Sarah?” she asked.
“We don’t know yet.”
“Do you think these shootings are connected?”
“It’s too early to say for sure, but these certainly look as if they could be.”
“I’ve presided over my fair share of murder trials, attempted murders, manslaughter. You would think that one would get hardened to crimes like these, but you don’t ever really get used to it. The ways human beings sometimes treat each other …” A small shake of the head.
Spats nodded thoughtfully and didn’t finish her statement. Then he got to the gist of his visit. “I hope you can help me.”
“You’re lucky, you caught me – and on an off day. No court.”
He smiled. “You’re right, I am lucky.” He pulled the sheaf of papers from his coat. “I’ve got a warrant to search Cody Sheen’s apartment.” He gave her more detail about the Sheen crime scene as he handed her the warrant. “I need to get on this right away.”
As she reached across the desk for the papers, he smelled perfume, something woody, but feminine, too. She took the pages from him, donned reading glasses, and began studying his document. It was several pages, and she, as he expected, would be thorough. A good judge should be, because no one wants a case to break down because of an error in a warrant. She almost immediately tapped a pen on the first page.
“Spats, I hate to say it, but does this murder victim have a full name? You just have Cody Sheen.”
Spats felt his cheeks burn. He had made a mistake, a rare thing. She must’ve sensed how he was feeling.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve got a lot going on, especially with Sarah.” But she did look at him expectantly.
“His middle name is Ryan.” He’d gotten the name from Leah earlier. He tipped his head at the papers. “Do you want me to correct it and bring back a new warrant?”
She shook her head. “In the interest of time, I won’t require a new warrant just for this. I’ll put in the middle name and initial it. But let’s see if the rest of the warrant is good.” There was no insult in the statement, only her wanting to be careful.
Deadly Target (Detective Sarah Spillman Mystery Series Book 6) Page 9
