by Debra Webb
Lori pulled over behind him and shut off her Mustang. ‘I guess we’re about to find out.’
Corlew pushed off the muscle car and strode toward them. ‘Nice wheels,’ he said to Lori.
She acknowledged his compliment with a nod. ‘Thanks. Yours aren’t so bad either.’
‘Got the Hemi engine to back it up too.’
Jess resisted the urge to step aside and give them plenty of space for a pissing contest. ‘You said you’d remembered something useful to my case.’
‘Follow me.’ He turned and swaggered into the cemetery proper.
Cedar Hill had been a part of Birmingham history for more than a century. The grave markers spread for acres and acres. The best she recalled someone famous was buried here. A baseball or football player.
They were deep in the cemetery when her patience ran out. ‘Corlew, where the hell are we going?’
‘Right here.’ He stopped at a marker and gestured to the name engraved there. ‘This is your lead.’
Lenny Porter. Died at eighteen, just twelve years ago.
‘I don’t really need another dead man, Corlew.’ Jess propped her hands on her hips. ‘I hope you didn’t waste my time dragging me out here.’
‘Twelve years ago, Porter was poised to graduate with honors. He was headed to MIT with a full scholarship. Instead, the night before graduation, he walked off the roof of the old Birmingham News building. His death was ruled a suicide but there were those of us who believed otherwise.’
‘What does his death, suicide or homicide, have to do with Scott Baker?’ Other than the obvious, Jess kept to herself. The year of his death was the year Baker graduated from high school. ‘Were Porter and Baker classmates?’
Corlew shook his head. ‘They were miles apart. Like a couple other guys I once knew. Baker was the rich, popular kid and Porter was the nerd who spent his high school years glued to the wall wishing he had a life.’
Jess motioned for him to go on.
‘Porter takes a nosedive. No one really cares but the police have to investigate, it makes the news, then fades away. Except’ – those gray eyes of his glittered with mischief – ‘his burial expenses were paid for by a certain wealthy Birmingham family you might know . . . the Bakers.’
‘That’s not so unusual,’ she argued. ‘The family likely heard about the tragedy and wanted to help. Folks do that down here.’
‘And Scott Baker himself brought flowers out here every year on the anniversary of Porter’s death. Every year. This was a kid Baker had no reason to know. None. Nada. And yet, he did somehow.’
Jess turned her hands up. ‘This is all very interesting but I don’t see the big lead you promised.’
‘Baker’s old man, the Samuel Scott Baker, has written a check to Porter’s mother for the sum of two thousand dollars every month since his death. Do the math – that’s a sizeable chunk of change.’
Now he had her attention. ‘Was there an affair between Samuel Baker and Mrs Porter?’
Corlew shook his head. ‘No connection whatsoever until her son’s death.’
‘The mother’s still alive?’
‘And getting that check every month,’ Corlew confirmed. ‘Funny thing is, the day before your vic bit the dust, Mrs Porter boarded a ship in New Orleans for a seven-day cruise. The first one of her entire life. I did some checking around and seems Scott Baker sent her on this luxury vacation. Made the arrangements just a week ago.’
Baker sent his wife and son out of town as well as the Porter woman. Interesting. That deep hum that signaled she was onto something started to vibrate inside her. ‘Where’s Porter’s father?’ Whether this was a lead in her homicide case or not, she wasn’t sure. But it was definitely an interesting twist she needed to investigate.
‘Not listed on Porter’s birth certificate. Never in the picture as far as I could determine.’
‘Sounds like maybe Samuel Baker had himself an illegitimate son.’ Seemed the most likely scenario. But why did the mother only demand help after his death? Had Porter confronted Scott? Maybe the money was to prevent a scandal. And why send her out of town now?
‘I was still in the department when Porter took that dive. I didn’t catch the case but I heard rumors.’
‘What kind of rumors?’ Now she saw where this was going. ‘Who did catch the case?’
‘Funny that you ask,’ Corlew said, ‘but I believe you should ask Burnett for specifics. I think it was his friend Harold Black’s case.’
Jess didn’t like the idea that Corlew’s goal could be to make Burnett and the department look bad, but if anything he had to say led her to Baker’s killer, she wanted to hear it.
‘I will ask him,’ she guaranteed the cocky guy. ‘Meanwhile, don’t yank my chain, Corlew. I have an investigation to conduct. What kind of rumors did you hear?’
‘That a group of teenagers, all rich kids, were involved in Porter’s death. A friend of his, a guy by the name of Todd Penney, told the police he and Porter had been invited to a private party by Scott Baker and his friends. But Penney later recanted the statement.’
‘Did Baker and his friends have an alibi?’
Corlew laughed. ‘’Course. They had each other. The Five they called themselves. These were the richest, most popular kids in Birmingham. The Five. Untouchable. Going places.’
The tattoo and the number five. Well, well, it appeared there was more to this little group of high school friends than met the eye. That feeling – the one that started deep in the pit of her stomach and wouldn’t let up until she saw something through – started to build.
‘We’ll pull the case file. Check it out.’ That was all she intended to say on the subject. If getting even with Burnett was the agenda here, she was having no part of that.
Her gaze settled on the headstone that proclaimed this plot as being home to Lenny, no middle name listed, Porter. If there was any truth whatsoever to Corlew’s conjecture, Lenny deserved her attention.
Her cell clanged with an incoming call. ‘I appreciate the heads-up, Corlew. I’ll let you know if I find anything.’
Jess turned and retraced the path they’d taken through the cemetery. She didn’t look back to see if Corlew followed. He’d handed her more trouble. That was what he’d done. She’d already ticked off most of the department with her brash methods and her less-than-subtle way of doing business. Now she was going to go digging around in an old case and maybe have to suggest her biggest competition in the department, Deputy Chief Harold Black, needed to lick his calf over.
Oh yeah, this was going to go over like a lead balloon. She’d gotten a taste of the blowback when she cast the shadow of suspicion on a cop last week. But she had no choice but to see this lead through.
By the time she dug her phone from her bag, it had stopped ringing and Lori’s had started. Jess’s caller had been Harper, as she suspected Lori’s would be.
Jess kept moving toward Lori’s Mustang as she listened to the one-sided conversation.
‘We’ll be right there.’ Lori ended the call and tucked her cell into the pocket of her slacks. ‘That was Harper.’
‘Has he found us a real lead?’
‘I don’t know about that but we have another body.’
‘Another homicide?’ Jess didn’t mean to sound surprised, but after the trouble she’d had with Black over who got what case, to get two in a row so close together was totally shocking.
‘You got it. Male, age thirty, same graduating class as Baker, same type of fatal head injury. And, another member of the Five. Elliott Carson.’
The information Corlew had just passed along suddenly jumped to the front of Jess’s priority list.
‘You ladies decide you needed to properly show your gratitude and maybe take me for coffee?’ Corlew asked, catching up since Jess had stalled to consider this news.
‘Sorry, Corlew, but we got a call. You remember anything else you think is relevant, you let me know.’
‘Will do.’ He tappe
d his temple. ‘Mind’s like a steel trap.’
The man was incorrigible. ‘I guess all those years of fast women and cheap booze didn’t do any damage after all.’
He ignored her jab. ‘So you got another murder?’
He’d hear about it soon enough. She might as well get his reaction. ‘Elliott Carson.’
‘Damn.’ Corlew looked away.
‘Damn what?’ Jess demanded. If there was more he wasn’t sharing, he was not going to like her bad cop side.
‘Carson called me last night. Left a voice mail saying we needed to talk. I called him back but I didn’t get an answer.’
‘I guess now we know why.’
Chapter Thirteen
Laurel Drive, Hoover, 11.20 A.M.
Elliott Carson had apparently done well for himself despite the early demise of his Major League career.
‘This is some place,’ Lori noted as they parked amid the barrage of official vehicles already on the scene.
‘I Googled him on the way here,’ Jess said as she prepared to climb out of the vehicle. ‘His work with underprivileged youth has garnered him several big-time sponsors. Doesn’t hurt that his wife is the daughter of a Texas oil baron.’
‘That would explain the massive house.’ Lori shoved her door closed and met Jess at the hood of her Mustang. ‘Texans take big to another level.’
‘That’s what I hear.’ Jess surveyed the home of the latest victim. Funny thing was, why the hell didn’t these rich guys hire bodyguards if they anticipated trouble coming? Where was their sense of self-preservation?
Probably the same place as yours when you play games with Spears and complain because Dan feels the need to protect you.
Point taken.
Now there was something new. She was carrying on a conversation with herself.
Not a good sign. Maybe the department shrink was right when she suggested Jess needed additional counseling.
‘News hounds picked up the scent,’ Lori noted.
Jess snapped to attention and glanced back at the street. Three reporters hustled from their vehicles.
‘Let’s get a move on,’ Jess suggested, mostly to herself. She had nothing to give the hungry reporters just now.
A curving stone staircase led from the sidewalk up to the porch. By the time they reached the door, she was cursing the four-inch heels of her new shoes. She’d lost everything when her place was destroyed a week and a half ago. Even her shoes had been beyond salvaging, save one pair that didn’t match her new spiffy suit. She’d just bought these lovely new heels that did. Trouble was they were far from broken in.
‘Remind me never to buy a house on a hill,’ Jess grumbled as they reached the porch. After donning gloves and shoe covers, she smoothed a hand over her taupe pencil skirt and checked that the matching waist jacket wasn’t riding up. Those reporters would be getting video feed, if not comments, for late-breaking news. It was bad enough to have them dissecting her every investigative step. She had no desire to have her appearance ripped to shreds as well. ‘Let’s get this done.’
The towering double doors of the front entrance opened and Harper greeted them with, ‘I put in a call to the coroner’s office to let them know this case might be related to the Baker murder. Dr Baron is on her way.’
‘Thank you, Sergeant.’ Jess appreciated his quick thinking and the confidence to take the steps he deemed necessary.
‘And your Audi is waiting in your reserved parking space downtown.’
‘I have a reserved spot?’
‘You do. Right next to Deputy Chief Black.’
‘Nice.’ Now she had no excuse for not saying good morning to him every single day. Until she started questioning one of his old cases and a new war started. Great.
The Carson home was as ostentatious inside as it was outside. From the marble entry hall floors to the soaring ceilings, the home spoke of style and wealth. Evidence techs moved in and out of rooms like bees searching for pollen.
‘Who discovered the body?’ Jess settled her attention on Harper.
‘The wife. She and their son spent the night at her mother’s home last night. This morning she dropped the boy off at baseball camp and came home to find her husband dead in his study.’
‘I thought her parents lived in Texas.’ That was what she got for relying on Google.
‘They do but the mother keeps a home here so she can spend more time with her only grandchild.’
‘Did the wife say why she spent the night at her mother’s last night?’ Jess fished for her glasses and tucked them into place.
‘She says her husband asked her to. Said it was important.’
‘I think I’ve heard that story before.’ Scott Baker’s wife had stated that he’d asked her to take their child and go away for a few days. Could be a coincidence, but considering both victims were members of this Five, she was thinking maybe not.
‘Prescott and Cook are interviewing the neighbors,’ Harper went on. ‘The wife is in the family room.’
‘Detective Wells,’ Jess said to Lori, ‘interview the wife again. See what she knows, if anything, about the Five and any of her husband’s friends. Does she have some idea why her husband wanted her away from home last night?’
Lori gave her a nod and looked to Harper. ‘Straight ahead,’ he explained. ‘The family room is at the back of the house next to the kitchen.’
Harper led the way to the study. An evidence tech was videoing the room. He lowered his camera and nodded to Jess. ‘I’m done in here, ma’am. I’ll just get out of your way.’
Jess thanked him and waited until he’d left the room before asking her next question. ‘No indication our perp was after anything? Money? Jewelry?’
Harper shook his head. ‘I didn’t find anything disturbed anywhere in the house. I asked the wife if there was a special place they kept valuables or a hidden safe. She showed me the safe in the master bedroom but nothing had been touched. Other than this room, the place is clean.’
‘We can certainly rule out robbery.’ From what Jess had seen so far, this place would be a burglar’s lucky strike.
‘Found these wadded up in his pocket.’
Harper passed her two evidence bags containing pages torn from a notepad not unlike the one Jess carried. The handwritten pages were dated March, twelve years ago. As she read the victim’s name, her breath stalled.
‘The author’s reminding him of why he had to die.’ That cop instinct had kicked in hard. Had they overlooked something like this yesterday? ‘When we’re done here, go back to the Baker scene. Check his home.’ She passed the evidence to him. ‘If these murders are connected, there may be more of these.’
Jess turned her attention back to this murder. She surveyed the elegant study. Richly paneled walls lined with bookcases along one side. Another wall was corner to corner windows that filled the room with bright morning sun. Heavy drapes of red velvet were gathered on each end of the ornate rod that extended the full width of the generous room. A third wall featured framed photos and certificates from the victim’s sports career. An organized desk and credenza sat in front of that wall. Directly above the credenza was a mounted rack that sported the slogan Lucky Wood but whatever the rack had held was missing. She frowned, but Harper had said nothing was missing.
‘The bat’s on the floor next to the victim.’ Harper gestured to where the victim waited for Jess’s attention.
‘No sign of a struggle,’ she noted, mostly to herself. Carson lay on the floor next to the wall of windows. His lucky bat at his side. Blood had accumulated on the floor beneath his head. The blow or blows had left him with a considerable gash.
‘Lividity indicates he’s been lying in that position for several hours. He’s in full-on rigor. Been dead for a while.’
Like Scott Baker, Elliott Carson had been tall and athletic. Seemed strange that someone had overtaken him with his own bat without him putting up a fight.
‘No sign of forced entry at any of the ext
erior doors?’ The house surely had several points of entry. She supposed one could have accidentally been left open.
‘Every door in the house was locked,’ Harper confirmed. ‘The only one left unlocked when the first officers on the scene arrived was the one coming in from the garage but the wife had unlocked it when she arrived home.’
‘Was the security system set?’ No need to ask if they had one. They would have one.
‘She said he usually sets the alarm before he goes to bed each night. That didn’t happen last night.’
Jess tried to visualize how the attack took place. ‘He either knew the perp or the perp was here waiting for him.’ She turned all the way around, looking for a good hiding place.
‘I guess he could have hidden under the desk,’ Harper offered.
‘Too difficult to get into position without the victim noticing.’ Jess looked from the door to the desk. ‘If the perp had attacked as Carson came into the room, he would have fallen here.’ She indicated the floor near the door. ‘We need to check for blood spatter there. Our killer may have tried to clean it up.’
‘What about behind the drapes?’ Harper asked as he walked to the window. He shifted the full reams of fabric and hid behind it.
The drapes fell to a generous puddle on the floor. Jess had never understood this particular decorating trend. Just something else to move when you vacuumed. ‘That could be our hiding place,’ she agreed.
‘I’ll make sure the glass is checked for prints.’
Jess looked from the curtains to the victim. ‘Still seems to me that if our guy stepped out from the curtains, bat in hand, that Carson would have turned to him in surprise. Wouldn’t he have fallen more here than there?’ She pointed to a spot perpendicular to where he currently lay on his back.
‘You think the perp moved him. Positioned him for some reason.’
Jess looked back at the door and then to where the victim lay on the floor, feet aimed at the door. ‘I think our perp didn’t want it to look as if he’d come up from behind his target. He wanted us to believe he’d come through the door.’
