Deadly Judgment (Detective Sarah Spillman Mystery Series Book 5)

by Renee Pawlish

  “Have you noticed any strangers around your house, either today or recently?”

  “Not at all. This is a safe neighborhood, and the only reason we have the surveillance cameras is because my husband is a judge.” Her voice was flat. “It didn’t help, did it?”

  “We’ll definitely want to take a look at the video,” I said.

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “No threats that you’re aware of?” I repeated.

  Another shake of the head. “If he did receive any, I’m sure he would’ve told me.”

  “What about friends or associates we could talk to, to see what they might know?”

  “Ray’s closest friend is Ken Tewksbury. They’ve known each other for a long time. I’d talk to him.”

  She spelled the name, and I jotted it down.

  “Who else has a key to your house?” I asked.

  “My son and daughter, and a cleaning lady. She comes in every other Thursday. The last time she was here was last week.”

  “And you trust her?”

  Her head snapped up. “Yes. She’s been with us for several years. She wouldn’t have anything to do with this.”

  I sat back and thought for a moment. I didn’t have much to go on. I thanked her for her time. “I know this has been difficult.”

  “Yes, it has,” she said.

  “Do we have your permission to search your entire house, the garage, and your cars?”

  “Of course. If it will help find my husband’s killer, then it’s worth it. My husband was a good man. Who would do something like … that … to him?”

  I wished I’d had an answer for her, but I didn’t.

  Chapter Four

  I signaled to the officer, and she left the room to get Ernie and Dana. All three returned a moment later. Dana hurried into the room and sat down with her mother. She put her arm around her mother’s shoulder, then glanced up at us.

  “Do you need anything else?” she asked softly.

  “We’d like to get the surveillance video from their house,” I said. “I know the timing’s not great, but we need to look at it as soon as possible.”

  “Dana can call her brother,” Joy said. “He should be able to access the video online, and get you what you need.”

  Dana nodded. “Yes, I can do that in a minute.”

  I thanked her and moved to the hallway, where Ernie and I spoke in hushed tones.

  “What’d she tell you?” I asked Ernie.

  He peered over my shoulder toward the living room. “Did the wife tell you that the judge was getting any threats recently?”

  I locked eyes with him. “No, she never did. As far she knows, everything was okay.”

  He frowned. “The daughter says that her dad alluded to some problems with this last trial, that he was worried about something.”

  I crossed my arms. “Actual threats?”

  He shrugged. “She didn’t outright say so, but she seemed worried someone was going to come after them.”

  I thought about that. “The defendant from that trial, Felix Robinson, is in prison.”

  “You’d think if the defendant was out for revenge, he’d direct it toward the jury,” Ernie said at a low tone.

  “It’s easier to get back at one judge than twelve jurors,” I said dryly.

  He snickered. “True. Other than that, the daughter didn’t have much. She said her dad was a nice guy, that he was a defense attorney for several years, but got tired of defending criminals, so he switched sides, then worked his way into a judgeship.” Another glance into the living room. “She was pretty proud of him. I feel bad. Someone was pretty pissed at McCleary to bash his head in like that.”

  “How did Dana describe her parents’ relationship?” I asked.

  “As far as she knows, it was good. She said her parents got along well, and she doesn’t think they argued much. I dug around a little bit, trying to see if there’s some underlying anger from the wife toward McCleary, but Dana didn’t think there’d be any reason for her mother to do anything to him.” He grimaced. “If she did that, she’d have had to hire somebody. I can’t see her taking a bat to him like that. We’ll check with her friends, but it sounds like she has an airtight alibi.”

  I shifted so I could see Joy McCleary. She was a petite woman, and she looked even smaller in defeat. I couldn’t see her as a murderer, either. But stranger things have happened.

  I looked toward the kitchen. “Is Siler in there?”

  Ernie nodded. “He’s watching TV, although you know he’s trying to listen in.”

  “Let me talk to him. Get back over to the McCleary house and get the tech crew going.”

  Ernie nodded and let himself out the front door. I looked a final time into the living room, where Dana and her mother were sitting quietly. Then I walked into the kitchen. Phil Siler was sitting on a brown leather couch in the family room, which was just off the kitchen. The TV was on, the volume low, and it appeared he wasn’t really watching it. When he saw me, he stood up and muted the sound, then quickly came over.

  “Phil Siler,” he said as he extended a hand. He was average height, with hair unnaturally brown, gray at the roots. He was trying hard to look younger, but the dye job and fake tan couldn’t hide the wrinkles around his eyes.

  I shook his hand and gestured at a small round table in a breakfast nook. “Could I take a few minutes of your time?”

  “Sure.”

  We moved over to the table and sat down. He plunked down a drink glass, laced his hands together and rested them on the table. The house was still, no sounds anywhere.

  “Thanks for letting Mrs. McCleary stay here,” I said.

  “Oh, it’s nothing. She’s a good friend.” He drew in a breath. “What a crazy thing,” he said, his voice sad. He stared at his hands. “You see something like that in the movies, not in real life.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Another deep breath, and he ran long fingers over a thin mustache. “I had just gone out to get the mail, or I wouldn’t have even heard Joy. But I did. She was screaming, so I ran across the lawn and hopped over the wrought-iron fence to her. I thought something had happened to her, and then she said something about Ray. She couldn’t even get the words out, just pointed back to her house.” Now he looked up. “The front door was open, so I went inside. I was expecting that maybe he’d had a heart attack or something like that. Joy stayed outside, and I looked around, and then saw him in his office.” He blinked hard a few times. “It was easy to tell he was dead, so I came back outside and called 911.”

  “You didn’t go into the office?” I asked pointedly.

  He shook his head. “No. I saw Ray slumped in the chair, his skull crushed in. His eyes were staring at me.” He took a sip of his drink, then blushed. “Oh, can I get you anything?” I shook my head, and he went on. “Man.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Joy was still hysterical, and I worked to calm her down. By the time a squad car arrived, she was more in control. She told me she had come home from her happy hour, and she found him like that.”

  “She didn’t say anything else?”

  He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, that was it. She said she saw him, and then ran out of the house.”

  “Did she say she saw anyone, or heard anyone?” I pressed him.

  Another shake of his head. “No, she didn’t say anything else, she just kind of … whimpered a little.”

  “What all did you touch in the house?”

  He glanced out a window as he thought about it. “The front doorknob. That’s it. I looked into the living room, then walked down the hall and saw Ray.”

  I stared at him. “Did you see or hear anything suspicious earlier this evening?”

  He shifted in the chair and finished his drink. “No, nothing. I got home from work a little before five, and I let myself in the house.” He pointed out the back window. “We have a detached garage, and I came through the back yard. I didn’t hear anything, oth
er than the usual sounds, a car here and there, and you can hear the traffic on Eighth Avenue. That was it. It was dark, and I didn’t see anything.”

  “Any unusual lights on at the McCleary house?”

  “I didn’t even notice.”

  “You didn’t see anyone at the McCleary house?”

  “No.”

  “What did you do when you came inside your house?”

  “I got a drink and turned on the TV. Then I heated up some leftovers and ate here.” He gestured at the table. “After that, I realized I forgot to get the mail, so I went outside, and that’s when I heard Joy.”

  “What time was that?”

  “About 7:30.”

  I looked around. The kitchen area had some feminine touches, light yellow walls, and lace curtains. “Are you married?”

  He nodded. “Yes. My wife is an ER doctor. She’s at work now, won’t be home until after midnight.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m in software engineering. I work at a company downtown.”

  “How long have you known the McClearys?”

  “Gosh, it’s been almost twenty years. We moved into this house, and they were already living there. They’ve been great neighbors, a lot of fun. Their kids are about the same age as ours, and so they all knew each other growing up.” His jaw dropped. “I’m going have to tell my family what happened. They’re not going to believe this.”

  “Did your kids like Judge McCleary?”

  “Yes. Ray is … was … a nice guy, with a good sense of humor. He treated my kids well, and they liked him.”

  “The McCleary kids had no issues with their dad?”

  His eyes narrowed. “No. Dana’s a teacher, and Bryce, their son, is a lawyer. They’re both successful in their own right, and they’re good kids.”

  “I do have to ask,” I said in explanation.

  He waved that off. “I know. I just think that’s a dead end.”

  He could say that, but I still would check on the children. Sometimes the least likely suspect is the killer.

  “Did the McClearys get along?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, they got along fine. If you’re thinking she would do something to him, I would say no way. Joy adored Ray, and he loved her, too. He was a bit of a tease, and he would joke with her, but it was all in good fun.” He glanced toward the living room. “We probably spoke a couple of times a week, if I see them outside or something like that. My wife and Joy talk some on the phone, too. My wife’s busier than Joy, but they still have coffee in the mornings once in a while.”

  “I’d like to follow up with your wife when I can,” I said, “to see if she saw or heard anything recently, or if Judge McCleary might’ve said anything to her that would be important.”

  “Sure. Brittany works at Denver Health. She’s probably pretty busy tonight, but you might be able to get a few minutes.”

  “Thanks, I’ll definitely be aware of her time.” I went on. “And you haven’t seen or heard anyone suspicious in the neighborhood lately?”

  He tapped the table as he gave that some good thought. “No, I can’t think of anything unusual.”

  “Do you have any surveillance cameras?”

  He shook his head. “No. I keep saying I’m going to get something, but I haven’t yet.”

  “That’s okay. When was the last time you saw Judge McCleary?”

  He smoothed his mustache again. “It must’ve been a week or two ago. When did we have that snowstorm?”

  “That was a week ago,” I said, thinking fast. Denver had been hit with a quick overnight storm that dropped a few inches. Typical of Colorado, it had warmed up in the following days, and that snow was now gone.

  Phil nodded. “Yes, it was early that next morning. He was shoveling his walk, and I was doing the same. We stood out by the street and talked for a few minutes before work.”

  I studied him. “About anything in particular?”

  He started to shake his head, then stopped. “It was just the usual stuff, and then I commented about that trial that he had wrapped up.” He held up a hand. “He never told me any specifics, he wouldn’t do that, but I had commented that I’d read about it in the paper. I’d read that the defendant was angry when Ray sentenced him, and that he’d shouted that it wasn’t fair, and that he was innocent.”

  I thought back as well and remembered seeing something about that on the news. “What did McCleary say when you mentioned that?”

  He shrugged. “He said something about that not being the first time he’d been threatened, or something like that.”

  “What did that mean? Has he mentioned being threatened before?”

  He shook his head. “Not that I recall. Ray never talked much about his work. Whenever anything came up, he tended to brush things off and would say that he wanted to be as fair as possible. Personally, I can’t think of a more difficult job, being a judge, but overall he seemed to enjoy the work.”

  “Did he mention anyone threatening him recently?” I emphasized the last word.

  “No, although …” He thought for a moment. “I guess maybe Ray was a little edgy that morning. He kept glancing around while we talked, and he seemed like he was in a bit of a hurry. Maybe he was just worried he’d be late for work.” He ran a hand over his face again. “Maybe I’m thinking that because of, you know, what happened now. Obviously, he made somebody angry, right?”

  I pursed my lips and murmured, “It would appear so.”

  Chapter Five

  Phil Siler looked at me. “When will Joy be able to go back into her house?”

  I stood up. “It’ll be a while, I’m afraid. It’s a crime scene, and we have to go through the whole house. I’m sure you understand.”

  He nodded and glanced again toward the living room. “She can stay here as long as she needs to. I’ve got a guest room, and she’s more than welcome to use it.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but my guess would be Joy will stay with her daughter.”

  He frowned sheepishly. “Yes, that makes more sense.”

  I thanked him for his time and walked down the hall to the living room. Joy and Dana were still sitting on the couch, in shocked silence. Dana looked up when she heard me.

  “I’m going to head back over to your house,” I said to Joy. “My guess is we’ll be there for quite a while.”

  “Take all the time you need,” Dana said. “We want to know who did that to my father.”

  Joy stared into space, then nodded slowly. “If you need anything from me …” Her voice was monotone; she was going through the motions, nothing else.

  I looked at Dana and said in a low voice, “Does your mother need medical attention?”

  Dana glanced at her mother, then shook her head. “We’ll probably head to my house soon. Oh, my brother called. Do you have email? He can send you a link where you can access the surveillance video.”

  I stepped into the room and handed her a business card. “That would be great. We’ll look it over to see if we find anything.”

  She took the card, thanked me, and turned back to her mother. I stood for a moment, then quietly let myself out. I hurried down the sidewalk, and as I walked toward the command center, I saw a local news station van parked around the corner, but no reporters. I went to the command van and poked my head inside. A blast of heat hit me. Rizzo was talking to a tech who was working on a laptop. The cramped space smelled of coffee. Rizzo looked up.

  “What do you have?” he asked.

  “We should be getting a link to the McCleary’s video surveillance.”

  Rizzo nodded with satisfaction. “Great. As soon as it comes in, forward it to the techs so they can take a look.”

  “What have you found out?” I asked.

  Rizzo rubbed his eyes. “Just going through backgrounds of the family, nothing suspicious yet. Spats got a warrant for McCleary’s office. He’s headed there now with a CSI team to search it.”

  “Good.” I jerked my head toward
the news van. “What’s going on with Channel 7? I didn’t see a reporter.”

  He grimaced. “I told her no comment, that there would be a statement later. She wasn’t happy about it, but that’s not my problem. She’s probably scrounging around the neighborhood to see if she can find someone with information.”

  I smiled. “I’ll be in the house if you need me.”

  I left him and went back to the McCleary house. The uniform at the door noted my entry as I paused to put new booties over my shoes. I heard voices as I walked down the hall to Judge McCleary’s office. The body was still slumped in the chair. Ernie was standing next to Todd Siltz, a crime scene tech. Todd’s tall and extremely thin. He and Ernie standing side-by-side look almost comical. They both looked at me when I entered the room.

  “We’ve got pictures of the whole room,” Todd said. “Not much to tell by the looks of it. Nothing in the room looks disturbed to me.” He brushed wiry blond hair from his forehead.

  “Nope,” Ernie said. “We thought the same thing.” He pointed toward the display rack, where one bat was missing. “The killer ties up McCleary, grabs a bat, and takes a home-run swing at his head.” It was an apt assessment.

  I looked slowly around the room. “Why tie him up first? You think the killer had a conversation with McCleary before he smashed his head in?”

  Ernie shrugged. “Could be. Or he tortured McCleary.”

  I studied the body. “I don’t see signs of abuse on him.”

  “Maybe emotional torture.”

  I moved over to the desk and pointed at the drawers. “Anybody look in here?”

  Ernie shook his head. “Help yourself.”

  I put on gloves, then opened the middle drawer and carefully looked through it. It held the usual: pens, pencils, paper clips, notepads. I didn’t see anything that might be a clue to McCleary’s killer. While I did that, Todd checked the floor for hair fibers, cloth fibers, or anything else that might lead to the killer.