Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 03 - Thrilled to Death

by L. J. Sellers

  Jackson subconsciously stepped back from the cabinet. He hoped there would be no reason to look at any of this. If Valder was making videos with consenting adults and no one got hurt, then the activity was legal.

  His next thought made him queasy. What if Valder had made a snuff film? Gotten rid of Danette while creating a high-dollar product at the same time?

  Chapter 25

  Jackson slipped into the conference room, grateful the other detectives weren’t there yet. He needed a moment to empty his brain again. His body was beyond tired, running on the caffeine he’d consumed in the form of Vivarin. His nerves and tendons were stretched so tight, he felt as if they would snap with any sudden movement.

  He sat quietly, not thinking, until his phone rang. The caller ID said Elle Durham. Damn. He’d been avoiding her. This was her third call, and the second message she’d left was less pleasant than the first. Jackson picked up. “Hello, Elle. Sorry for not getting back to you. I’ve been extremely busy with the case.”

  “Are you’re making progress? How did the autopsy go this morning? What did the pathologist say?”

  The autopsy had been this morning? “The pathologist’s report was inconclusive. Courtney may have had an asthma attack. She also had bruising on her neck, but her hyoid bones weren’t broken, so it probably didn’t kill her.”

  “What are you saying? Someone strangled her but didn’t kill her?” Elle’s emotional level was elevated, yet her voice seemed muted. Jackson suspected she was medicated.

  “Courtney’s boyfriend, Brett Fenton, admits to causing the bruising.”

  “Brett hurt Courtney?”

  “We’re not sure.” How much should he tell this poor woman? She seemed so desperate to know. “Brett says he choked her during sex because she wanted him to.”

  Schak walked in and Jackson gave him a nod.

  “Why would she want that?”

  “It’s about pleasure. Look, Elle, I have to go. I have a taskforce meeting. What I can tell you is that the men who kidnapped your daughter are both in custody. I believe they will both do time in jail.”

  She burst into tears. “Thank you. You don’t know how hard this has been for Brooke and me. She is just not herself. This news will help.”

  “I’ll call when I know more.” Jackson got off the phone. He looked at Schak. “Elle Durham. You heard what I said to her?” Schak nodded. “If Lucas and Valder do time, it will be because of what they did to Danette. If Lucas hadn’t screwed up, this case would be over. I don’t think Slonecker would have even prosecuted them. Courtney hired someone to kidnap her, then likely died of an asthma attack afterward.”

  “From what I know about her, it’s easy to think she had a death wish.”

  “Maybe.”

  Schak slumped into a chair. “She was definitely self-destructive. She set herself up for it.”

  Jackson couldn’t argue. As a parent, he understood that Elle must have wanted to believe Courtney would change and turn out okay.

  Evans hustled in, carrying tall coffees.

  “You’re a goddess,” Schak said, reaching for a cup. Jackson reached for his wallet. Their addiction was not cheap, and he wouldn’t let her pay for it.

  Jackson looked at his watch: 4:45 p.m. He needed McCray to get here with the stack of paperwork. He wanted a look at Valder’s Monday phone calls before he did anything else. In the meantime, they would catch up. They had all been going in different directions and it was time to get up to date on everything.

  “Let’s get started.” Jackson glanced at his notes.

  “Want me to update the board?” Evans reached over and touched his arm.

  “Just the highlights. Essentially, we’ve broken both cases, yet haven’t resolved either one. We know most of what happened to Danette, but we haven’t found her. The pathologist couldn’t make a conclusive ruling on Courtney’s death.”

  “You really think it was just an asthma attack?” Evans asked.

  “I don’t know.” Jackson took a long drink of hot black coffee. “Things about it bother me. Such as why Brett lied about Courtney calling him and the bruises on her neck. It’s so easy to slip from sexual tension to lethal pressure. Without any witnesses or evidence, we’ll never get a conviction. I’m not saying we’re giving up, but we have to find Danette first.”

  “You say that like she might still be alive,” Schak noted.

  “It’s possible. We’ll stay on the case round the clock for now.” He watched for his team’s reaction to the idea of working through the weekend and thought he saw a flash of distress on Evans’ face.

  “We may not need everyone, if you have plans, Evans.”

  She gave him a half smile. “I have a date tomorrow night.”

  “New guy?” Schak said.

  “Yeah. He’s an artist. It’s good so far.”

  It’ll never last, Jackson thought. Evans would end up with someone in law enforcement or the military. She just hadn’t accepted it yet. “Don’t break your date yet. We may not need you.”

  “Anything else from Courtney’s autopsy we should know?” Evans wanted to get back on task.

  “Not yet. We should have toxicology reports on Monday. They may help explain what happened.” McCray came in as Jackson glanced back through his notes from that morning. “Glad you’re here. Did you get what we need?”

  “Mostly. What were you saying about toxicology?”

  “We’re waiting on reports. The autopsy was inconclusive. Courtney may have died of an asthma attack.”

  “Someone that young and healthy? Very rare, if it happened.” McCray sounded sure of himself.

  Jackson vowed to keep digging. Until he remembered his surgery was Monday. He needed to tell his team, but not yet. “I stopped by the Young Mothers Outreach center this morning,” Jackson reported from his notes. “It’s a loose connection point between Courtney and Danette, but I don’t know how it’s significant.” He took another gulp of coffee. “The psychiatrist who was treating both women knows the director of the center, Elias Goodbe. Goodbe referred Danette to Callahan, the psychiatrist, as a pro bono patient. And Elle Durham donates money to the center.” He made a connection he hadn’t realized before. “Dr. Callahan, Elias Goodbe, and Elle Durham all know each other from the Chamber of Commerce.”

  “Goodbe gets cash donations from Elle Durham and free mental health services from Callahan,” Evans said, as she made notes on the board. “What do the women get out of their relationship with Goodbe?”

  “A chance to feel good about helping the young women at the center?” Jackson offered.

  Evans gave it thought. “I buy that. Did Courtney and Danette know each other?”

  “I don’t think so. But we know Danette took Courtney’s canceled appointment with Callahan and that’s how she got sucked into Courtney’s little kidnapping adventure.”

  “Did you talk to Valder today?” Schak asked.

  “He was uncooperative. He wouldn’t admit or deny that Lucas brought Danette into his house.”

  “He’s counting on us not finding her body or not finding trace evidence in his house.” Schak shook his head with frustration. “I didn’t see Danette in any of the video clips I scanned briefly, and the technicians didn’t find any blood or prints in the basement.”

  “We have the hair I found on the couch in Valder’s office,” Evans said. “I dropped it at the crime lab, but we still need a comparison sample.”

  “We’ll get one from Danette’s house. I think Kera has a key.”

  “What’s the plan for finding Danette?” McCray spoke up for the first time.

  “We’ll start digging up Valder’s property tomorrow. The lab techs will keep looking at the computer we took from the basement. We’ll pour over Valder’s phone records and bank statements until we know everyone he has contact with, then we’ll prioritize those contacts and question everyone.” Jackson paused, still thinking it through. “I think I’ll stop in at his club tonight and talk to some of h
is employees, maybe some of the dancers.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Schak said.

  Jackson laughed. “Why not?”

  Evans rolled her eyes.

  “What’s your best guess about Danette?” McCray was dead serious. “Assuming Valder doesn’t really leave his house, did he get someone to take her away or did he bury her on his property somewhere? Both pose inherent risks.”

  Jackson had worked this question over. “Having people help him has probably become second nature to Valder by now. You have to go outside to bury someone. So I lean toward the idea that he hired someone to dispose of her.” After a moment, he added, “It could have been Eddie Lucas. The Dirty Jobs bastard might be crafty enough to pin the worst of it on Valder and get off with something as light as reckless endangerment.”

  “Oh shit. Are you serious?” Schak sprayed his last gulp of coffee. “What does the DA say?”

  “I’m just speculating. Slonecker is still open about how to prosecute.” Jackson checked his watch. “Let’s order in some sandwiches and dig into Valder’s files.”

  Danette woke to the faint smell of cigarette smoke. Just as she oriented to the reality of still being in the second small basement, the man rolled her up in a blanket and lifted her from the narrow mattress. He wrapped her around his waist in a fireman’s carry and started up the stairs. She vaguely remembered him coming into the room to give her food and water, but it seemed like days ago.

  Where was he taking her now? Still gagged, Danette couldn’t ask or complain. Her arms ached with the pain of being pressed hard to the front of her body, and her mouth was so dry her tongue felt sticky.

  At first, she was relieved to be going somewhere. Even if he raped and killed her, at least it would be over. She couldn’t take being bound and gagged and drugged anymore.

  At the top of the stairs, he opened a door. For a second, Danette felt warm wind on her face. He dumped her in the trunk of a car and slammed it closed. Minutes later, the car was in motion. Danette let her mind go blank. It was easier than thinking about how much her body hurt or what might be coming next.

  In time, the frequent stops ended, and she thought they might be on a highway. Was she leaving Eugene? Danette began to hyperventilate. If she left Eugene, she might never see Micah again. Danette gulped in air, as tears soaked the cloth over her eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d ever considered giving up her precious baby. Danette had prayed so much in the last few days, she didn’t know if there was still any point. Once again she asked God to save her so Micah wouldn’t lose his mother. She promised to be the best mother a little boy could have if she ever made it back. Please, she begged. I love my son. Give me a chance.

  The hum of the tires reached a higher pitch as the car picked up speed.

  Valder’s banking information made all four detectives feel bad about how little money they had in savings. Valder had four accounts: two business accounts, one personal savings, and a personal checking. Three of the four accounts were with a small credit union, and one of the business accounts was in a national bank. That account had almost $100,000, and the other three together had that much again. Jackson wondered why someone with that much money would carry out a risky adventure kidnapping for ten thousand dollars, minus the three he paid Lucas. Maybe that was why Valder had that kind of cash. He said yes to every money-making opportunity that came his way.

  Jackson asked Evans and McCray to go through the statements, line by line, while he and Schak started on the phone records. Jackson flipped through the pages until he found the calls for Monday. “I’m taking this page to my desk, so I can plug these phone numbers into the database.”

  “You can use my laptop,” Evans offered.

  “Thanks, but I’ll be more comfortable at my desk.”

  Jackson pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his top drawer. So far, he only needed them when he was looking at pages of small print like this. Monday’s calls started a third of the way down the page. At 8:03 a.m., Valder had received a call from Alice Valder, located in Aurora, Illinois. His mother, Jackson assumed. Calling first thing Monday morning. It was rather typical. Most of the male suspects he encountered fell into two categories, they either hadn’t seen their mother since they left home or they were tightly bonded, sometimes in a life of crime.

  The next call at 10:36 was outgoing, from Valder to a local number. Jackson punched it into LEDS, the law enforcement data system. The name Robert Napper came up with an address in Springfield. Jackson added the information to his case file.

  First he would make a list and check each name for criminal history. Those with a record, they would visit in person, and the others he would call just to see who they were and how they reacted. Robert Napper was twenty-three and had a DUI conviction two years before. Jackson wondered if he was an employee, someone who worked at the club. In a minute, he’d call him and find out.

  At 2:17 p.m., Valder had placed a call to another local number. Jackson keyed it in and waited: Elias Goodbe of 2255 Wolf Meadows.

  His heart did a tiny tap dance. Goodbe was somehow in the thick of this. The importer-turned-philanthropist not only had associations with both missing women, Goodbe knew Valder, the strip club owner and porn maker who had held both women in his house. Valder, with a gagged and bound young woman he needed to dispose of, had called Goodbe. Most interesting.

  A rush of adrenaline surged through his body and Jackson’s fingers flew as he keyed Goodbe into CODIS. He came up with nothing. Goodbe was not a known criminal. Was the name an alias? Without fingerprints or DNA, they had no way to cross check.

  Jackson scanned the other Monday calls. One at 4:47 p.m. came from Goodbe. He keyed the other three Monday calls into LEDS and came up with two that went to Lucky Numbers, Valder’s club, and one to a woman named Trisha O’Neil.

  Jackson pulled out the small evidence bag with Valder’s phone. Jackson slid the cover back and started hitting buttons, looking for a contact file. After a moment, he gave up, grabbed his bag, and headed back to the conference room, signaling Schak at his desk to follow.

  Evans made notes on her laptop while McCray read from a list of figures. They both looked up as Jackson announced, “I think we have another solid lead.”

  He took a seat as Schak came in. “Seth Valder talked to Elias Goodbe twice on Monday. As we just discussed, Goodbe is the director of Young Mother’s Outreach and had contact with Danette. He also knows Elle Durham, who funds his center, so we might assume he knows Courtney too. The question of the moment is: Why does Goodbe, a supposed philanthropist, know someone like Valder? And why did Valder call him when he was dealing with the scenario of having the wrong kidnapped woman in his house?”

  “You talked to Goodbe, right?” Schak asked. “What kind of vibe did you get?”

  “Sorry to say, I didn’t get much of a read.” Jackson flipped back through his notes and tried to recall the interview that morning. “Goodbe seemed uncomfortable talking about Courtney.” As he remembered something else, he snapped his fingers. “Goodbe lied to me. I asked him if he knew Seth Valder just to see his reaction and he said no.”

  “I can see why he would want to keep that relationship to himself,” Evans noted with a slight sneer.

  “Do we bring him in?” Schak cracked his knuckles.

  “No, we tail him,” McCray said, springing to his feet. “Bringing him in will get us nowhere. We can sweat Valder to roll over on Goodbe, but Goodbe has no reason to tell us anything.”

  “I like your thinking,” Jackson said. “We also need subpoenas, which may take time.”

  “I’ll take the first shift on the tail,” McCray offered. “I’m tired of paperwork.”

  “You’ve got it. His address is 2255 Wolf Meadows. I think that’s in the area between Green Acres and Chad Drive. His business is downtown right next to the center.”

  “I’ll take a shift watching the center,” Schak offered.

  “Great. We’ll get uniform backup if we need it.”
Jackson turned to Evans. “I need you to create the paperwork for a search of Goodbe’s house, import business, and the center. I’ll dig into the databases and see if there’s anything in Goodbe’s background that will help sway the judge.”

  “What’s your working theory about Goodbe’s role in this?” Evans wanted to know.

  “I haven’t had time to formulate one.” Jackson’s brain scrambled as he tried to generate a hypothesis. “Maybe he’s connected to Valder’s porno operation or some sex trade business. If Goodbe picked up Danette from Valder, I’m a little more hopeful she is alive.”

  Evans asked what everyone was thinking. “But where?”

  “We need to determine, then search, every piece of property Goodbe owns.” Jackson remembered he had Valder’s cell phone in his pocket. He pulled it out. “Does anyone use this type of phone or know how to locate the list of contacts?”

  Evans reached for it. “It’s a Google 1.” She clicked a few buttons. “I assume this is Valder’s phone and you want me to scroll through his contact list for calls and see if Goodbe is in here.”

  “Yes.” A wave of uncertainty hit Jackson. “What other kind of contact list would he have in the phone?” Jackson hated being behind the times on technology, but he always was.

  “Most new phones have e-mail capability. I don’t know if it has a standard e-mail address file though.” Evans was scrolling as she talked. “Goodbe is in here at contact number 26.”

  Jackson barely listened. His mind was on Courtney’s missing phone. What if Courtney had one of those phones and sent an e-mail to someone Tuesday night after Eddie Lucas dropped her off? He turned to Schak. “When you asked for the records for Courtney Durham’s phone, did they say anything about e-mail?”

  Schak looked taken aback. “No. I asked for a record of her calls for the last two weeks.” Jacskon watched him make the connection. “You think she might have sent e-mails out before she died?”