Rules of Crime (2013)

by Sellers, L. J

  “Try her again, then head this way. You can go home and get some rest afterward.”

  River hung up and headed for the conference room. A vague guilt tried to work its way into her head. Long ago, when they’d found body parts in the basement and taken River’s father away, an FBI agent had been present in their home for nearly a week. Not the same agent; they’d taken turns with the overnight shift, but their presence had been comforting to her and her mother. But this was Eugene and they only had ten on staff, several of whom had been preoccupied with searching construction sites for Renee. River decided she would go see Anderson after the meeting.

  While she waited for the group to arrive, she updated the board with what little she knew about Bartolo Diaz. Fouts was first to come in and she asked him what he thought about terminating the post at Anderson’s.

  He shrugged. “Anderson’s part is over. We either find Renee or we don’t.”

  “Harsh, but true.”

  Two more agents came in, followed by a pretty woman River didn’t know. She held out her hand. “Detective Lara Evans. Sergeant Lammers asked me to join the task force.”

  “Agent River. Welcome. We could use a fresh perspective.”

  Evans took a seat and River tried to guess her age. Thirty? She seemed young to be a detective.

  River looked at Gilson. “How are we coming on searching the construction sites?”

  “We only have two left. They started with the most-remote places and worked their way in. And the site with the underground safe room was empty, so we’re not optimistic.”

  A few minutes later, Jackson, Schakowski, and Quince came in. She noticed they were silent and their mouths had the same grim expression.

  “What happened at Renaldi’s?”

  “We didn’t find Renee.” Jackson slumped into a chair next to Evans and she reached over, touched his hand, and quickly pulled back.

  Just a friendly gesture, River wondered, or was there more going on?

  Jackson continued, “As if that weren’t bad enough, the animal control officer was bitten by one of the dogs, and we tasered Renaldi, who has a history of epileptic seizures. The citizens review board will probably ask for my resignation.”

  “Fuck ’em,” Schak said. “They have no idea what our job is like.”

  River empathized, but none of it was relevant to the investigation. “Did you find anything connecting Renaldi to either Renee’s kidnapping or Dakota’s death?”

  Jackson shook his head, seeming weary. “We found a fake ID business, so we booked Renaldi into jail, but there was nothing linking him to either crime.”

  “We still haven’t searched his computer though,” Schak added. “And now that we discovered his illegal-ID business, we can get a subpoena for his bank records.”

  “I doubt if you’ll find any of the kidnapping money there.” River tapped Diaz’s name on the board. “Bartolo Diaz left his apartment yesterday afternoon and took all his personal things with him. That was after paying his neighbor the money he owed and telling her he needed a fresh start.” River turned to the board and made a note. “He’s driving a silver Toyota and we have a statewide lookout for him.”

  “How is Diaz connected?” Evans asked.

  River hoped they wouldn’t have to brief her on everything. “He’s a known gang associate of Noah Tremel, the first ransom courier, and Diaz also bought a dog from Jacob Renaldi. So he knows all the players. Our working theory is that he picked up the second ransom, slipped away from a team of FBI agents, and left town with twenty grand last night.” She backtracked a bit. “Or he might have given Renaldi, or Talbot, a cut first. We don’t know. Did you find any cash?”

  “A couple thousand in an envelope in a false-bottom drawer,” Jackson said. “We picked it up as evidence if you want to compare it to the serial numbers in the ransom money.”

  “We didn’t have time to record the numbers.” River would send Renaldi’s cash to headquarters anyway, along with the glove and a few other items. She decided to bring it up again. “Any thoughts on the white glove found in Renee’s car?” She turned to Schak. “Anything like it at Renaldi’s?”

  “We found some panties and a scarf that could be Dakota’s, but Renaldi admits she was there on many occasions.” Schak shrugged. “No gloves.”

  Jackson suddenly sat up straighter. “I remember a robbery I worked about six months ago. A convenience store on Royal Avenue. After the perp left, the clerk found a playing card on the floor. A jack of spades. Someone had dropped it; either the robber or the customer before him.” Jackson grimaced. “I never solved the crime. It was a one-off, unlike most robberies, which are part of a string. The perp usually just keeps hitting stores or banks until he makes a mistake or someone identifies him.”

  “What are you saying?” River wanted him to spell it out.

  “It’s probably irrelevant, but someone mentioned calling card at the last meeting and it made me think about that card on the floor.” Jackson sounded unsure but he continued. “If a gang like the Westside Kings is involved, maybe the crimes are part of an initiation. And they leave a calling card as part of the—” Jackson paused, then finally said, “risk.”

  “I’m intrigued.” River wrote initiation on the board. “But gangs aren’t usually that sophisticated in their crimes or initiations. They prefer an old-fashioned beat down.” She turned back to the group. “Any other crimes fit this pattern?”

  No one had anything new, but Quince had something to add. “Both Tremel and Diaz are supposedly ex-gang members. At least according to Tremel’s girlfriend, Noah Tremel has been out of the gang life for a year. And she thought Diaz was too. So they may be working independently of the gang.”

  “But still thugs,” Schak added. “Worse if they’re kidnapping people.”

  After a silent moment—during which they mentally assessed whether kidnapping for ransom was really worse than home invasions and forcing women into prostitution—Detective Evans spoke up. “I’ve been looking through Dakota’s computer and paperwork for a few hours. She had nearly seventy thousand in debt from four credit cards and was getting notices from collection agencies.”

  Schak whistled. “Holy shit. How does a single young woman run up that kind of debt?”

  A dark feeling crept up River’s spine. “That kind of financial trouble could motivate someone to look for a big score.”

  Jackson looked distressed. “Would Dakota do that to her own father?”

  The thought made Jackson ill. He’d seen teenagers assault their own parents and drug addicts steal their single-mother’s grocery money, but this was different. Putting her father through that anguish—not to mention taking his life’s savings—was selfish beyond description. And it was all too close to home. Dakota was practically Katie’s stepsister. Jackson was shamefully pleased that Dakota would not be able to influence his daughter.

  Evans turned and stared at him. “You’d met Dakota before this, right?”

  “Yes, once, for a family dinner. She seemed smart. And normal.”

  “Well, she’s not.” Evans jerked back, as if she’d just had a revelation. “I just realized Dakota’s silver Honda matches the description of the car seen leaving the hospital in the assault case I’m working. The witness finally called me an hour ago. A woman was stripped and beaten in the university graveyard, then dumped at the hospital with internal injuries. She’s still in a coma.”

  “Silver Toyotas and Hondas are the most common car on the road,” Schak said. “And the gangbangers love ’em.”

  Evans jumped up and began to pace. “Jackson, you searched Dakota’s place. Does she own golf clubs?”

  He remembered the clubs in the trunk of her car. “Yes, why?”

  “Joe at the crime lab says the victim’s bruises could have been made by a golf club. I want to bring in her set for comparison.”

  River held up her hands. “How is any of this connected to Renee Jackson? Who still happens to be missing. She has to be our p
riority.”

  Scenarios were finally coming together for Jackson. “If Dakota orchestrated the kidnapping, that opens up new places to look for Renee.”

  “Wait a minute.” Schak shook his head. “If Dakota is the kidnapper, who killed her and why? Or was her death an accident?”

  “Renaldi and the gang boys were probably helping Dakota,” Jackson suggested. “Then Renaldi turned on her when the money ended up in the river.”

  “Then one of the bangers must have orchestrated the second money drop,” Schak said.

  “Or maybe it was someone else.” Evans’ eyes sparked with excitement as she grabbed her laptop and opened it. “I looked at those photos you mentioned, Jackson. And I recognized one or two of the people.” Evans clicked open a digital folder. “This older guy on the left is Austin Hartwell. He owns the sorority house connected to my assault case.” Evans turned the monitor toward Jackson and pointed to a picture of a pretty blonde. “This woman looks so much like my suspect, Taylor Harris, I think it must be her sister, Ashley. She used to be the house leader. Clearly, Ashley and Hartwell are both good friends of Dakota’s, and they even take vacations together.”

  “We need to talk to Anderson again.” Jackson stood, feeling charged. This case was about to break wide open. “Agent River, I think you should come with me.”

  Evans’ face fell and Jackson backtracked. “Good work, Evans. Your insight has been critical. But the kidnapping is River’s case and she has a rapport with Anderson.”

  “I understand. I’d like to search Dakota’s place again and bring in her golf clubs. I have a case to solve too.”

  “They’re in the trunk of her car.” Jackson turned to Schak and Quince. “Find out what you can about Austin Hartwell and the others in the photos. Be on standby.”

  As River started to adjourn the meeting, her cell phone rang. She took the call, so it had to be important. After a brief minute, she hung up and said, “Daniel Talbot left his office today and purposely lost our tail. We have to consider that he may be on his way to either release or silence Renee.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Jackson followed Agent River across town and south toward Anderson’s home. He couldn’t stop thinking about Talbot suddenly going AWOL. All the talk about gangs and Dakota and a sorority house now seemed like wild speculation. The kidnapper was likely the man Anderson had believed guilty from the beginning. A man who’d lost a lot of money because of Anderson’s financial advice. But would Talbot let Renee go? She’d been a hostage for nearly four days.

  A gray sky loomed over the city and threatened rain. Once they’d passed the downtown area with all the transients and aimless teenagers, the sidewalks were empty. Even few cyclists were on the road today. Agent River drove like a woman in a hurry and Jackson pressed to keep up. They could have gone together, but no one in law enforcement wanted to be without their own vehicle if a scenario suddenly changed direction.

  River waited in Anderson’s driveway. When Jackson reached her, she said, “I wanted to warn you that Anderson’s been drinking heavily for the last few days. Agent Torres reported him to be hungover, but sober, a few hours ago, but that could have changed by now.”

  “So this could be a waste of time.” Inwardly, Jackson raged at Anderson for drinking, for leading Renee back into the disease.

  “Maybe. I’m also hoping you’ll help look out for him if we don’t get Renee back.”

  Jackson didn’t respond. Anderson was not his family, and he had all the responsibility he could handle. “Let’s go see what he says about Dakota.”

  Anderson was in his study, looking at photos on his computer. His eyes were dull and watery and his skin seemed loose on his face. He looked ten years older than he had when Jackson had met him a few months ago.

  Looking up, Anderson said, “You’re both here. That can’t be good.”

  “We don’t have any news,” Jackson said. “Just questions. We need you to tell us the truth, even if it’s painful.”

  River pulled up a chair and sat next to Anderson. Jackson stayed standing. “Did you know Dakota was nearly seventy thousand in debt?”

  Anderson blinked and swallowed. “I didn’t know it was that bad. I knew she’d gotten into trouble with credit cards again but we were working something out.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She agreed to cut up the cards and see a debt counselor and I was going to help her pay the collection agencies.”

  Agent River sat quietly, watching Anderson, so Jackson continued. “Was Dakota ever involved with a gang?”

  Anderson closed his eyes. When he opened them, they shimmered with tears. “She dated a gang member her first year in college. He went to jail for a while and she broke it off.”

  “Was it Noah Tremel?”

  “I don’t remember. What does this have to do with Renee?”

  “Both couriers who picked up the ransom were members, or ex-members, of the Westside Kings. Why would they target Renee?”

  “I don’t know what you’re saying. Daniel Talbot kidnapped Renee.” Anderson sounded desperate. “Why haven’t you arrested him?”

  “Why would Talbot hire gang members to pick up the cash for him?”

  “I don’t know. That’s your job.”

  Jackson knew it was time to confront him but he still wanted to ease into it. He realized how devastating the accusation would be for a father to hear. “Dakota had suicide scars on her wrists. Why did she try to kill herself?”

  “Her mother had died of cancer and she’d been depressed even before that. I told you.”

  “Has she ever seen a counselor for any emotional problems?” Jackson recalled the Celexa in her medicine cabinet.

  “Off and on. But she lost two mothers; who could blame her? I tried to be that person in her life but I failed.” Tears rolled down Anderson’s face. “Dakota was always looking for someone or something to cling to. In high school, it was a group of gamers and one friend in particular. Then her first year at the university, she dated that gangster and I was so worried. But thankfully it didn’t last. Finally, she found a private sorority and they were like family to her. Dakota settled down and got serious about her education.”

  Maybe Evans was right about the sorority connection, Jackson thought, but he didn’t know how it would help find Renee. It was time to say it. “We think Dakota may have orchestrated the kidnapping to get the money she needed to pay off her debt.”

  “No.” Anderson’s whole body shook with denial. “She would never do that. I know she wasn’t close to Renee but that’s unthinkable.”

  River decided to step in. “It may not have been Dakota’s idea. Maybe her ex-boyfriend Noah approached her. I’m sure he promised her that Renee would be safe and no one would get hurt. She probably thought they would both walk away with a pile of cash and the whole thing would be over in a couple of days.”

  “Dakota wouldn’t have gone along,” Anderson argued. “She would never commit a crime just for the money. Not as long as I was able to help her.”

  “She had a compulsive shopping habit,” Jackson said, still standing.

  “So? Lots of people have vices.” Anderson’s voice rose a notch. “Dakota had a void to fill but she wasn’t a criminal.”

  River kept her voice gentle. “Of course she wasn’t. But Renee is still missing and we need your help.”

  “If you think Dakota kidnapped Renee, you must know what happened to Dakota. Tell me whose dog killed her.” Anderson started to stand.

  River put a hand on his arm. “We need your help. If Dakota was involved in the kidnapping, where would they keep Renee?”

  “She wasn’t.” Anderson folded his arms across his chest.

  River sensed him shutting down. “Can you visualize Renee somewhere?”

  A moment of silence.

  I know where she is.

  River heard Anderson’s thought. It was weak and filled with pain as it eased into her head. She took a slow breath. “Tell us where
Dakota would hide Renee. You want her back, don’t you?”

  “Of course. But I can’t help you and I resent your insinuation that my daughter was a kidnapper.” Anderson pushed to his feet, looking a little unsteady. “You’re just blaming her because she’s dead and can’t defend herself against the charges.”

  River suddenly knew how this would play out. “I’m sorry for your pain and I hope you’ll get some counseling. If you think of anything that can help, call me.” She stood and stared at Jackson, willing him to go along.

  He started to speak, then closed his mouth and stood too. “Take care of yourself.” Jackson touched Anderson’s elbow and walked out. River followed.

  Out in the driveway, she said softly, “We wait and watch. I’ll go left and you go right.”

  “You really think he knows?”

  “Yes. Let’s go.”

  They jumped in their vehicles and backed out. River drove two blocks, backed her car into an empty driveway, and slumped down in the seat. She hoped Anderson wasn’t intoxicated, but with Renee still in captivity after four days and possibly alone for the last twenty-four hours, they had no choice but to see what happened.

  CHAPTER 39

  Pain gnawed at Renee’s stomach and she felt queasy from dehydration. The little sink in the bathroom didn’t work and no one had brought her water in a long time. She lay on the bed, listening for the sound of footsteps in the hall or a car driving up outside. The last time she’d had contact with her kidnapper had been yesterday around noon, or so she thought. He’d silently given her a sandwich and a glass of water and left again. His face hidden by a ski mask, she had no idea who he was, but he dressed like a gang member and smelled like dog. She thought she’d heard whimpering noises at one point too.

  She was pretty sure the same man had been feeding her from the beginning, but then yesterday, she’d heard a car leave. And never come back. Another night had passed and she’d slept off and on, waking from hunger and worry. Now most of another day had passed and no one had brought her food or water. It was the longest she’d ever gone without sustenance or human contact.