Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 03 - Thrilled to Death

by L. J. Sellers

  “We need to find out. Get back to her phone service provider and see if they track e-mails too. Next head over to 17th and Oak and keep an eye on the outreach center for a while. If you spot Goodbe, call me.”

  McCray let out a little sigh. “Should I follow up on Valder’s phone e-mails?”

  “No. Get out to Goodbe’s house ASAP. We need to get this guy under surveillance.”

  Chapter 26

  Jackson ran Elias Goodbe’s name through every database and browser he had access to. What he discovered was that Goodbe had opened Goodbe’s Imports in Eugene in 1996, had purchased a house at 2255 Wolf Meadows in 1997, had joined the Eugene Chamber of Commerce the same year, and had started the Young Mothers Outreach in 2006. It was almost as if he hadn’t existed before 1996.

  No vehicles came up associated with Goodbe’s name either. It only meant he’d never been pulled over by an Oregon police officer. Jackson would have to check with the Department of Motor Vehicles in the morning.

  He felt guilty about giving Evans the impossible job of writing a convincing subpoena to search Goodbe’s personal records, home, business, and charity. No judge would sign off on it, based on two phone calls between Valder and Goodbe on the day Danette disappeared. The men could have been talking about anything. They needed something more solid.

  Jackson remembered Kera had visited the center so he gave her a call. “Quick question. What was your impression of the Young Mothers Outreach? Did you meet the director?”

  “I did. Elias Goodbe. He’d seemed charming at first.”

  “What happened?”

  “I mentioned talking to Sophie Speranza about doing a story to get the center some publicity and he rejected the idea. Then he kind of shut down.”

  “Did you talk to anyone else or learn anything interesting?”

  “Hang on a sec.” Jackson heard some shuffling noises, then Kera was back. “I had to put Micah on my other shoulder. He’s a solid little chunk. Back to your question. I talked to a volunteer named Gwen who said some of the women who come to the center don’t have families, and they place their babies in state care. Sometimes they never come back. It made sense when I first heard it, then it bothered me later and I’m not sure why.”

  Considering what he suspected about Goodbe, it bothered Jackson too. “It’s a little unnerving. Anything else?”

  “Not really. Will I see you this weekend?”

  “I hope so. I’ll call you later. Give Katie a hug for me.” Evans walked up with paperwork in her hands. “I have to go see a judge about a search warrant.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Bye babe.”

  “Oh wait. I just remembered something else Goodbe said I thought was interesting. He said some of the volunteers were at the center as part of their own therapy. He said it right after mentioning Stella Callahan.”

  “Thanks. Love you.” Jackson flipped his phone shut and looked up at Evans, who had a funny smile going. “What?”

  “When did you first tell Kera you loved her? How long into the relationship?”

  “About four months, I think. I knew long before that Kera was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Jackson started back to his desk. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  Evans had the audacity to wink at him. “I hope you found something on Goodbe, because this subpoena is weak.”

  “I haven’t yet. We’ll just have to be very persuasive. I’ll start calling and see if I can find a judge who’s willing to look at it tonight.”

  Jackson made calls to three judges and left messages, emphasizing the need to find a missing young woman. He sent Evans home to rest, so she could take the next shift in front of Goodbe’s house in about five hours. Jackson didn’t want to leave McCray out there longer than that. He called Schak. “What’s the update?”

  “I couldn’t get anyone with authority at Verizon on the phone tonight, so we may not get any information about Courtney’s e-mail records until Monday,” Schak reported. “Now I’m sitting across the street from the Young Mothers center. The lights are off and no one’s home.”

  “What about the import business across the parking lot?”

  “Also dark and quiet. Why?”

  “It’s Goodbe’s.”

  “No kidding? Convenient for him.”

  “I’m still working on the subpoena. I’ll get patrol units to keep an eye on the buildings, so you can go home and get some sleep.”

  Judge Cranston called back around nine-thirty. “What’s your situation?”

  “We have a missing woman. She was kidnapped on Monday in a case of mistaken identity. We’re trying to locate her. We know she was delivered to Seth Valder on Monday and Valder called Elias Goodbe soon after, so I need a search warrant for Elias Goodbe’s home, business, and charity.”

  “Elias Goodbe of Goodbe Imports and Young Mothers Outreach?”

  Oh shit. “Yes.”

  “I know Elias.” The judge cleared his throat. “I find it hard to believe he would be involved in kidnapping. What makes you think he is? Other than a phone call?”

  “Two women disappeared earlier this week. The other one was Courtney Durham. Goodbe had contact with both of them. He also had contact with Seth Valder, who held both of the women in his house.”

  “Elle Durham’s daughter was kidnapped? When? I was out of town for a while.”

  The conversation was not going according to plan. “Courtney was kidnapped Monday night. She arranged it for herself from a company called ThrillSeekers. Two things went wrong. First, the company kidnapped the wrong woman, Danette Blake, and no one has seen her since. Second, Courtney died soon after she was released and we’re not sure yet how or why.”

  “Good Lord.” A scraping sound followed, as if the judge had pulled out a chair.

  “If you knew the family, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “I know Elle, and I met Courtney once. I’m a little stunned.”

  “Courtney had mental health problems.” Jackson wanted to get back to Goodbe, but he needed the judge to come along with him. “Courtney was seeing a psychiatrist named Stella Callahan. Danette Blake was seeing her as well. That’s where the mix-up came in.”

  “What makes you think Elias knows anything about either kidnapping?”

  “Seth Valder called Elias Goodbe on Monday after Danette was mistakenly delivered to his house. Two hours later, Goodbe called him back. They spoke twice on the phone while a kidnapped woman was in Valder’s house.”

  “You’ve searched Seth Valder’s property?”

  “Yes. Tomorrow we start digging up his backyard, but I have a feeling Danette isn’t there. I think Goodbe picked her up.”

  The judge made an odd noise in his throat. “For God’s sake why? Why would a businessman who started a charity for young women get involved in something like this? Have you even asked him?”

  “Not yet. If we bring Goodbe in, we can’t follow him around and see where he goes. Once we question him, he’ll be on guard after that.”

  “I’m not letting you tear apart Elias Goodbe’s home and reputation on such thin speculation. Go question him. Maybe he has a good reason for talking to Seth Valder. Good night.” Cranston hung up.

  Jackson was disappointed, but the judge had a point. Why would a businessman and philanthropist get involved in kidnapping a young woman?

  Porn. It had to be about sex somehow. Some men became so obsessed with pornography it took over their lives and made them irrational. A year ago, a Springfield man had shot and killed his wife after she smashed his computer because she couldn’t live with his porn addiction any longer. Their three children were in foster homes now.

  McCray answered on the first ring, so he must have had his phone in his hand. Jackson pictured him sitting there on a dark street, watching a dark house, and wishing someone would call.

  “What’s the report?”

  “The house is quiet. A couple of lights are on, but I’m not seeing any movement. No one has co
me and gone since I’ve been here. No cars are parked out front, but there’s a big garage, so the cars could be in there.”

  “I didn’t get the subpoena to search, so we’ll have to bring Goodbe in for questioning. I’m on my way.”

  Goodbe lived in a new subdivision in the North Delta area, bordered by a golf course and a river. The homes were newer and nicer than in Jackson’s neighborhood, but they didn’t have mature trees or real backyards. Jackson shut off his engine and checked his watch: 10:52 p.m. Anyone in the house was likely sleeping. Too bad. He would have liked to be in bed too, preferably with Kera, but he was trying to find a missing young woman and he was willing to inconvenience anyone in the process.

  McCray climbed out of a car across the street and trotted over. They strode up the sidewalk together, and Jackson gave the door a good pounding. His patience had expired hours ago. After ten seconds, he pounded again. Finally, a female voice on the other side said, “Go away, or I’m calling the police.”

  “We are the police. We want to talk to Elias Goodbe.”

  After a long pause the woman said, “He’s not here.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Doris Goodbe.”

  “Will you open the door and talk to us please?”

  The porch light came on and the door slid open a crack, still secured by a heavy chain link. “Let me see your badges.”

  As they held up their badges to her line of sight, Jackson asked, “Where is Elias?”

  “He’s on a business trip.” Through the crack, he guessed her age at sixty, with short iron-gray hair and a thick body.

  “I just saw him today, so I’m not buying it. Please go get him.”

  “He left late this afternoon. The trip came up unexpectedly.” Doris made no move to open the door further.

  “Where did he go?”

  “Seattle, I think.”

  “Did he fly?”

  “I assume so.”

  “Where is he staying?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Give me his cell phone number.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Jackson tensed. “Your husband may be involved in the kidnapping of a young woman. If you protect him or hinder our investigation, we’ll charge you with accessory.”

  She slammed the door and they heard her footsteps moving away.

  “That didn’t go well,” McCray commented. “Can we believe what she said about Seattle?”

  “Maybe. I’ll go back to headquarters and start calling airlines. I need you to stay here until Evans relieves you. I told her to be out here by two this morning.”

  “No problem. I’ve got my iPod with me. My daughter gave it to me for Christmas. Love the damn thing.” Under the porch light, McCray’s weather-beaten face looked serene, and Jackson was relieved. He hated making the older man work this late. Although McCray never complained. None of his team did. That’s why he chose to work with them again and again.

  Back at his desk, Jackson dug out his Vivarin and swallowed one with a long drink of water. He’d started to get sleepy on the drive back and he couldn’t afford that. He wouldn’t rest until he had some idea of where to find Elias Goodbe or Danette Blake.

  Only five airlines had service out of Eugene. In theory, it wouldn’t take long to determine if Goodbe had left town on a plane. If he’d driven to the Portland airport a hundred miles north, there would be many more options. For that matter, Goodbe could have driven to Seattle. Or taken the train to Santa Fe. Or maybe he was pacing his house in the dark trying to figure how to get past the cop parked outside.

  Jackson rubbed his eyes and forced himself to focus. He keyed United Airlines into Google and quickly found a phone number. Now to convince a low-paid service personnel to tell him what he needed to know.

  After Jackson stated his case, the young female operator said she would help but she insisted on hanging up and calling the department directly to verify he was a police officer. Jackson didn’t mind. He respected smart citizens who didn’t let themselves get conned. He drummed his desk while he waited for the callback. Only one other detective was still at his desk from the night shift. Michael Quince was also one of his top choices. Jackson considered recruiting him to help make calls, then changed his mind.

  In a moment the clerk called back, and Jackson learned United Airlines had not booked a flight for Elias Goodbe for today, tomorrow, or any time in the future.

  Four calls and forty minutes later, he knew for certain Goodbe had not booked a flight out of Eugene. His wife had lied. No surprise. Actually, she’d said, “I assume so,” when he’d asked about a flight. It was possible Doris didn’t know what her husband was up to or exactly where he was.

  It occurred to Jackson he might have spooked Goodbe when he stopped at the center earlier that day asking questions. Oh crap. Was his suspect on his way to the Cayman Islands or some other place where he could assume a new identity, disappear into the population, then pick up where he left off? Jackson suspected Goodbe had done that once already when he moved to Eugene. Also the name, Goodbe. The bastard must have gotten a kick out of calling himself that. Or had he really intended to start over and live the good life?

  Jackson called the Greyhound station and Amtrak just to cover the bases. Neither had sold Goodbe a ticket recently. Their suspect had packed his car and driven away this evening while they were eating sandwiches and looking at Seth Valder’s phone records.

  Damn! Jackson smacked his fist against the desktop. In the quiet open space, it sounded louder than he’d expected. It also startled Quince, who jumped out his chair.

  “Sorry. Just expressing a little frustration.”

  Quince, who was ridiculously handsome for a cop, took his hand off his weapon and walked over. “Can I help with anything?”

  “Thanks, but I think I’m going home to sleep for a while.”

  On his way out, Jackson reminded himself that looking at Valder’s phone records had led them to Goodbe. He had done everything he could, when he could. He wasn’t giving up. In the morning, he would call his contact at the DMV, who worked Saturdays at the branch in the Valley River mall. Once he had Goodbe’s vehicles, he’d put out a bulletin for him.

  After driving for ten minutes, Jackson realized he was headed toward Kera’s instead of Harris Street. Katie was still at Kera’s so there was no reason to go home to his empty house. He needed to wrap his arms around Kera and feel her warm skin on his. He needed to soak in some of her energy and wake up feeling human. Jackson would have liked to make love to her as well, but he was so tired he didn’t think he could make it happen.

  He would lie there with her and dream about it.

  Chapter 27

  Saturday, April 11, 5:36 a.m.

  Jackson woke to the sound of a baby crying and felt disoriented. Where the hell was he? He smelled Kera’s fruit-scented hair and remembered coming over. They scurried out of bed simultaneously. Kera grabbed her robe and headed for the crib in the corner and Jackson grabbed his pants, starting the day feeling guilty. His partners had pulled an overnight surveillance shift while he slept with Kera for a few hours. Oh well, he would make Evans take the night off and go on her date with the artist.

  As he reached for his shirt, Kera came back with the baby. “It’s so good to have you here.” She kissed him with Micah squawking in both their ears.

  “You know I have to run?”

  “Of course.” She smiled. “You have a clean shirt in the closet.”

  Jackson decided to take a quick shower before putting on most of yesterday’s clothes. He gulped down a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, while Kera gave Micah a bottle.

  “Tell me what you know about Danette, please.”

  Jackson didn’t blame her for asking. He trusted Kera more than he’d ever trusted anyone. Still, she wasn’t a cop. “This information is completely confidential.”

  “Of course.” Kera nodded and sipped her coffee.

  “Courtney Durham paid to ha
ve herself kidnapped just for the thrill. She was seeing the same shrink as Danette. The guy who did the abduction is not very bright and he grabbed Danette by mistake because she had taken Courtney’s cancelled appointment.”

  Jackson watched her process the information.

  After a moment of stunned silence, Kera said, “Now Courtney is dead and Danette is missing. What happened?”

  “That’s the part I don’t know yet.” Jackson hesitated. “I was pretty sure Danette had been murdered just to silence her, but now I have a little hope she might still be alive.”

  “That would be glorious.” Kera bit her lip. “What should I tell Maggie when she calls? She checks in with me every day, asking about the investigation.”

  “Tell her we found Danette’s car and we still hope to find her daughter too.”

  Kera started to ask another question, but Jackson stood. “I have to get rolling.”

  “Okay. Go find her.”

  “Say hi to Katie for me when she gets up. Tell her I’ll call her later.” Jackson kissed Kera and the baby. “Thanks for letting Katie stay here. Something is going on with Renee, and Katie doesn’t seem to want to be over there.”

  “Do you think Renee’s drinking again?”

  “Probably.” Jackson had been avoiding the thought.

  “Poor Katie. It must be hard on her to get her hopes up, then be disappointed again and again.”

  “It sucks and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

  The early sky was pale blue and the air smelled of fresh-cut grass. Eugene was warming up for another gorgeous spring day. Jackson wished he could stop and savor the moment. Not this morning.

  On the way down the hill, he called Stacy Garrett, a woman who worked for the Department of Motor Vehicles. He’d met her when her brother had been murdered and he’d found and arrested the killer. He knew Stacy wasn’t at work yet. Hell, she might not even be up. He checked his cell phone for the time: 6:02 a.m. After three rings, he left a message: “Stacy, it’s Wade Jackson. Sorry for the wake-up call. I’m looking for a woman who’s been kidnapped, and I need you to do me a huge favor. Go in to work early and see if you can find Elias Goodbe. I need to know what he’s driving ASAP.”