Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 03 - Thrilled to Death

by L. J. Sellers

  Novels by L.J. Sellers

  Detective Jackson Series

  Secrets to Die For

  Thrilled to Death

  Passions of the Dead

  Dying for Justice

  Liars, Cheaters & Thieves

  Standalone Thrillers

  The Sex Club

  The Baby Thief

  The Arranger

  The Suicide Effect

  Nonfiction

  Write First, Clean Later:

  Blogs, Essays, & Writing Advice

  THRILLED TO DEATH

  Copyright © 2010 by L.J. Sellers

  All rights reserved. Except for text references by reviewers, the reproduction of this work in any form is forbidden without permission from the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-9795182-5-6

  Published in the United States of America

  Spellbinder Press

  Eugene, OR 97402

  ljsellers.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, locations, or events is coincidental or fictionalized.

  Cover art by Gwen Thomsen Rhoads, http://www.gwenrhoads.com/

  Digital Editions by: booknook.biz

  Contents

  Novels by L.J. Sellers

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Monday, April 6, 9:52 a.m.

  “I want to give my baby away.” The words nearly tripped over each other in their rush to leave her mouth.

  Dr. Callahan’s eyes widened briefly. “How much thought have you given this?”

  “I don’t know.” Danette squirmed in her chair. This was why she was in the psychiatrist’s office, to verbalize some of the horrible things she’d been feeling. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, but without really admitting to myself that’s what I want. I’m overwhelmed and depressed all the time. I don’t think I love this baby as much as someone else would.”

  Dr. Callahan scribbled something on a pad. “Are you talking about giving him up for adoption?”

  “Micah’s grandmother would love to raise him.”

  Her shrink looked at the clock. “We’re past our time, and I have another patient waiting.” She handed Danette a slip of paper. “This is a prescription for Lexapro. Start on it right away. I don’t think the Paxil is working for you. Please don’t do anything rash until we’ve had a chance to talk some more. You’ll be back on Thursday, correct?”

  Danette nodded. Thursday was her regular day, but she had called Dr. Callahan last night, crying and begging to come in because her life felt out of control and she no longer trusted herself with little Micah. Luckily there had been a cancellation for this morning.

  Danette bolted from the office, feeling ashamed. What was wrong with her that she didn’t want her own baby? Dr. Callahan clearly disapproved. Danette pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt, wishing she could hide her face as well. She pounded down the stairs and out of the building. Maybe she should leave Micah with Kera until she worked through this. The baby would be better off. Maybe she could go somewhere and clear her head for a while. As Danette crossed the parking lot, she pulled on sunglasses without really noticing the morning sun and bright blue sky. She glanced at the beat-up cargo van parked next to her Toyota. It hadn’t been there when she arrived.

  As Danette turned the key in her car lock, she heard the van door slide open.

  Chapter 2

  Kera looked at the clock: 11:32 a.m. Where was Danette? She called her cell phone again but Danette still didn’t answer. This time Kera left a message: “I’m a little worried because you said you’d be back by 10:15. I’m supposed to be at work in half an hour. Please call me.”

  After a few more minutes of vacillating, Kera called the Planned Parenthood clinic where she worked and told them her situation. She felt guilty about missing her shift because she only worked part time. She and her ex-husband had used the life insurance money from their son’s death in Iraq to pay off the house, so her finances were more flexible now. Benefitting from Nathan’s death made her so uncomfortable, Kera atoned for it by volunteering to care for disabled Iraq veterans. It never felt like enough.

  She lifted three-month-old Micah out of his playpen. He grabbed her copper-colored braid and stuck it in his mouth. Kera gently extracted her hair and carried him out to the back deck, where the view of the city helped her relax. She was far more worried about her daughter-in-law than her job.

  Legally, Danette was not her relative. Danette and her son, Nathan, had never married. In fact, they had barely known each other before he shipped out. Still, Nathan had left Danette pregnant and now they had Micah. Referring to Danette as her daughter-in-law was easier than saying ‘mother of her grandchild’ or ‘dead son’s girlfriend.’

  Kera pushed Nathan from her mind. There was no point in compounding her worry with grief. She walked around the deck, showing Micah the petunias and geraniums blooming in big stone pots, but that only used five minutes. Kera debated whether to call Jackson. He would probably drop everything and start to investigate, but what if Danette was just out shopping, stealing a few minutes of free time away from the baby?

  Kera tried to think of the name of the doctor Danette had gone to see. Carlson? Davison? Danette had called last night and asked if she could bring Micah by in the morning. Kera had been curious about the last-minute doctor’s appointment and wondered why Danette didn’t want to take the baby with her, but she hadn’t asked. When she had been a new mother all those years ago, she hadn’t let Nathan out of her sight until he was a year old.

  Danette was a different kind of mother. She left Micah with anyone and everyone who would watch him. Kera worried Danette was not particularly bonded to her baby. She had only met the young woman last fall, but she sensed Danette was unhappy. Her recent move to Eugene, in hopes of attending nursing school, would make it easier on all of them.

  Where was Danette now?

  Kera remembered the doctor’s last name: Callahan. She put Micah in his playpen and danced his little elephant up and down until he stopped fussing. She brought her laptop into the living room and got on the Internet.

  The online yellow pages revealed two Dr. Callahans in the Eugene/Springfield area. One was a cardiac surgeon named Charles, and the other was a psychiatrist named Stella. The worry in her stomach tightened a notch. Was Danette seeing a mental health professional? Yesterday, Kera would have considered that good news. Now that Danette was AWOL, it confirmed her worst fears.

  Had Danette run off and abandoned her baby? Kera pictured a tear-stained postcard arriving in the mail next week, explaining how it was all for the best. Despite her worry, a little part of Kera’s heart leapt with joy at the idea she would get to keep Micah
right here with her. She looked over at the boy as he kicked his feet and giggled at the bird mobile above his head. He looked so much like Nathan.

  Kera tried calling Danette again. No answer.

  She dialed Dr. Callahan and left a message: “This is Kera Kollmorgan, mother-in-law of Danette Blake. I believe Danette had an appointment with you this morning. She was supposed to return hours ago to pick up her child but hasn’t shown up. I can’t reach her by phone and I’m very worried. Please call me.”

  That was waste of time, Kera thought, clicking the phone closed. Psychiatrists and counselors were notoriously hard to reach, rarely returned phone calls, and wouldn’t talk about their patients under any circumstances. At least she had done something. It wasn’t in her nature to sit and wait.

  Kera pressed speed-dial #2 and hoped Jackson would pick up.

  Jackson sat on the paper-covered table in the exam room, thinking he was wasting his time.

  Dr. Murtz announced, “I believe you’re still constipated. I’ll write you a prescription for a laxative. That should take care of your bowel pain.”

  “What about the tightness in my chest?”

  “That’s just stress. Your heart sounds fine. Maybe you need a vacation.”

  “Maybe.” Jackson hopped off the table and pulled on his clothes as Murtz left the room. Maybe he needed a new doctor. If the police department didn’t make him get a physical once a year, he wouldn’t even have a doctor. At six-foot tall and just under two-hundred pounds, he was healthy enough. He ate right, at least half the time, and now that he was involved with Kera, a fitness fanatic, he was running three days a week too.

  Jackson tossed the prescription in the trash on his way out. He’d already been through one prescription, and he wasn’t subjecting himself to it again. Maybe the pain in his gut was stress-related too. Summer was coming; maybe he would take a real vacation this year. Take his daughter, Katie, to Magic Mountain, or better yet, surfing in Hawaii. He almost laughed at the thought of himself on a surfboard. He was the opposite of blond and tan, and not quite good-looking either, he mused.

  On the way to his city-issued cruiser, Jackson remembered to take his phone off vibrate mode and saw Kera had called. As he started the car, he listened to her message: “It’s Kera. I’m worried about Danette. Can you come over? It’s official police business.”

  Her tone made him squeal the tires a little as he pulled into the street. He’d only known Kera for eight months, but he was crazy about her in a way he’d never experienced before. Or maybe he’d once felt this way about his ex-wife, before she started drinking, but he didn’t remember it. His reality now was that he never had enough time with Kera and he had to find a way to change that.

  The trip to Kera’s took ten minutes. Eugene, Oregon was a small college city and you could get from point A to point B in twenty-five minutes or less, even on a bicycle. Being a police officer who had lived here his whole life, it often took him less.

  Kera answered the door with a bundle of baby on her shoulder. She was tall, striking, and moved like an athlete. Jackson felt a little giddy every time he saw her. Kera gave him a forced smile. “I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “What’s going on?” Jackson felt a stab of worry. Kera was more upset than he’d realized. He kissed her forehead. “Let’s go sit down.”

  Jackson followed Kera into the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of water and eased down to the table without jostling the baby. “Danette was supposed to pick up Micah two hours ago,” Kera reported. “She had an appointment with a doctor, but she hasn’t come back and she doesn’t answer her phone.”

  Jackson gave her a gentle smile. “It’s too soon to worry.” He didn’t want to dismiss her fears, just ease them. “Anything could have happened. A flat tire, a change of plans. Or maybe Danette ran into a friend and started talking.”

  “Why wouldn’t she call or answer her phone?”

  “Maybe she left her cell phone at the doctor’s or in her car.” Jackson poured himself some coffee. “You want some?”

  Kera shook her head.

  “We can try calling places where she might be.”

  “I already did.” Kera pressed her lips together and looked as if she might cry. “Something is wrong. I just know it. Either something dreadful happened to Danette or she has abandoned her baby.”

  “What makes you think she might abandon Micah?”

  “The doctor she saw this morning, Stella Callahan, is a psychiatrist. I know Danette has been depressed.” Kera patted the baby’s back as she talked. “Sometimes new mothers experience emotional and hormonal upheaval after the birth of a child, and they feel and act irrational. For some it’s just post-partum depression; for others it goes way beyond.”

  Jackson reached for the little blue-eyed bundle. The boy smiled and Jackson felt a warm hand touch his heart. Who could ditch this little guy? “Have you called the hospitals?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry to burden you with this.”

  “Don’t be. I’m glad for something to focus on. Sergeant Lammers keeps giving me little bullshit cases.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You had another doctor’s appointment. What did he say?”

  “He said I’m constipated.”

  Kera rolled her eyes. “Murtz is a moron. You need to go to the hospital and get a CAT scan or an MRI. The doctors in the ER will be able to diagnose this thing, which could be some kind of abnormal growth.”

  Jackson knew what she meant. “Next time the pain gets bad, I will.”

  “Promise me?”

  “I will.” Jackson stood. “I need two addresses: Danette’s and the doctor she went to see. After I check out Danette’s apartment, I’ll drive over to the psychiatrist’s and see if Danette kept her appointment or left her cell phone there. It makes sense for you to wait here in case she shows up.”

  As Jackson headed down Chambers, he called Sergeant Lammers and left her a message, telling her he was looking into a possible missing person situation and would be in to the department later. The assault case he’d been assigned last week was going nowhere. Jackson had visited the woman in the hospital and she’d denied her boyfriend had attacked her. There was no point in looking for the ‘dark-haired man with a tattoo’ she claimed had barged into her home and beaten her for no apparent reason. He didn’t exist. Jackson worried that her boyfriend would eventually kill Cheri, but then, at least he would be able to build a case against him.

  The duplex where Danette lived, courtesy of taxpayer funded Section-8 housing, was just off River Road and Sunny Street. The low-rent cul-de-sac housed a group of duplexes, each a little shabbier than the next. Two little girls rode tricycles in the asphalt center area. No parents seemed to be watching them. Danette’s side of the building was dark and her car was not in the driveway. Jackson pounded on the door anyway. After a few minutes, he checked the knob, but it was locked. Out of thoroughness, he checked the side door under the carport and found it locked too. If this were a homicide investigation, he would pound on the neighbors’ doors as well, but it was too early to assume Danette was missing. Jackson expected Kera to call any minute and tell him the young mother had turned up with some lame excuse for her behavior. He’d heard it all.

  As he turned around, a woman stepped out of the home across the way and watched him until he got into the Impala. Jackson was glad someone was paying attention to the stranger in close proximity to the little girls. He would talk to that neighbor first if he had to come back.

  It was a quick drive to the psychiatrist’s office on Lincoln Street, on the edge of the downtown area. The small, two-story cinderblock building had a parking area in the back and was surrounded by residential homes. Jackson scanned the lot, but didn’t see Danette’s blue Toyota Corolla. It seemed unlikely she would still be here or that she would leave her car. He moved past the insurance agency on the first floor and slowly took the stairs to the offices on the second floor. The pain i
n his gut had receded to a dull background noise and he wanted to keep it that way.

  The shrink’s office was at the end of the hallway. The door opened into a small lobby. A moment later, a voice came over an intercom: “This is Dr. Callahan. I’ll be out to see you in ten minutes.” He glanced up at the corner nearest the inner door and found the camera. Interesting set up, he thought. Certainly cheaper than paying a receptionist to read magazines all day. While he waited, he brainstormed his next moves. First, he would issue an attempt-to-locate on the Toyota, then he would go back to Danette’s apartment and let himself in to look around.

  At five minutes to one, a middle-aged man emerged from the inner office, glanced at Jackson, then scurried into the hall. The doctor appeared moments later. She did not approach him or offer her hand. “I’m Dr. Callahan. How can I help you?” She had a big face with a square jaw and was a little thick in the middle. The doctor still managed to be attractive.

  “I’m Detective Wade Jackson. I’d like to ask you about Danette Blake.” Jackson stood to be on her level. “I know about doctor-client confidentiality, but Danette seems to be unaccounted for at the moment and her mother-in-law is very worried. I’m hoping you’ll humor me and answer a few questions.”

  Callahan’s jaw tightened. “Unlikely. I won’t discuss Danette’s sessions or her treatment.”

  “For now, I just need to know if she kept her appointment this morning.”

  “She did.”

  “When was she here?”

  “From 9:00 to 9:55.”

  “Did she say anything about where she was going when she left?”

  “I couldn’t tell you if she did.”

  “Danette is not answering her cell phone. Did she leave it here?”

  A flicker of fear shot through Callahan’s eyes. “Where is her baby?”