“Yes. That’s mighty sad. Two young lives snuffed
senselessly like that. Do you have other questions for
me, Lackey?”
“No…this is it. Thank you, Doc.”
Tom hung up the phone and opened Tracey’s photo
on his computer. His heart hurt when he looked at her;
so young, so beautiful, and now she was gone. So was
her baby. How could Tom find a way to break the news
to Tracey’s parents? He decided to talk to Kathy first,
and to see if she could provide a few key strategies to
sensibly deliver this new horrible update. But first he
had to go find Brad Johnson, and get some answers. He
looked at his watch – nine o’ clock in the morning. Brad
was surely at work by now. Tom picked up his car keys
and his sunglasses and headed out to the parking lot.
With the temperature already in the mid-eighties at such
an early hour, there was no doubt in Tom’s mind that
Raleigh was in for a scorcher of a day.
He drove to the warehouse and parked in the gravel
lot. When he stepped through the main door, the same
two women he had seen before were sitting at their
desks, and the younger one – Shirley, he remembered –
greeted him warmly.
“Good morning Lieutenant. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thank you; I hope you are. I’m here to see
Brad Johnson.”
“He is in the warehouse. Would you like me to call
him?”
“Yes, please.”
He waited for a few moments, and he was surprised
when Brad Johnson walked through the door. He
expected someone burlier and rougher than the college
kid who stood just a few feet away. He had short blond
hair and his skin was lightly tanned; he was over six feet
tall and quite handsome, even in overalls. He hardly
looked like a drug addict, but Tom knew that there were
many types of drugs out there, and many types of users.
“Can I help you?”
“Hello, Mr. Johnson,” Tom said amicably while
extending his hand. “Yes, I would like to ask you some
questions.”
“I am working right now.”
“It’s okay, Bradley. You can take your lunch right
now.” The voice of the older woman sounded like nails
scratching a chalkboard. That voice—where had he
heard it before…?
Brad nodded, shooting a nasty glance toward the
woman sitting at her desk. She responded with a
satisfied grin and toyed with the silver charm hanging
from the necklace she wore around her neck. The charm
moved to expose a large mole on her chest that almost
made Brad gag.
“Okay. I’ll take my lunch now. Where would you
like to talk, Lieutenant?”
“What about my car?” Tom replied quickly. “You
can bring your lunch if you want.”
Brad shook his head and followed Tom outside.
“I’m not hungry, thank you.”
They walked out, but as Tom turned around he saw
a smile creeping up on the old woman’s lips. The
moment she saw him looking at her, the smile morphed
into a scowl and she buried her head in the papers in
front of her.
Tom and Brad Johnson stepped outside and walked
silently to the car. Tom started the engine to get some
cool air into the vehicle and pulled out his notebook
from his pocket.
“Mr. Johnson, I need to ask you a few questions
about Ms. Newman.”
Brad simply nodded, but he fidgeted in his seat.
“How long have you known Tracey Newman?”
“I don’t know. About a year…a year and a half,
maybe.”
“Was there a romantic involvement between you
and Ms. Newman?”
Brad hesitated.
“Were you involved with Ms. Newman?” Tom
repeated the question.
“Yes. We were seeing each other from time to time.”
“From time to time? Do you mean that you weren’t
a couple?”
“We were, but we were an open couple. Both of us
could date other people.”
“Were you dating other people, Mr. Johnson? While
you were seeing Ms. Newman, I mean.”
“No. I wasn’t. I was seeing someone when I first
met Tracey, but it wasn’t serious.”
“Do you use drugs, Mr. Johnson?”
Brad was suddenly nervous, and he shook his head
without responding.
“Do you use drugs, Mr. Johnson?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Are you sure, Sir? Would you be willing to
undergo a drug test?”
“Is this about me or about Tracey, Lieutenant?
Unless I am being charged with something, I would
prefer to keep my life private.”
Tom raised his hands, palms facing Brad Johnson.
“Of course, Mr. Johnson. But you see, my questions are
perfectly justified, since we received a phone call
informing us that you killed Ms. Newman because she
provided drugs to you.”
“Why would I want to kill her if she was my
dealer?”
“Hmmm…good question. Let’s see…could it be
that you were afraid she would tell people at your place
of employment? I understand the company has a very
strict drug policy. Or maybe she refused to continue her
dirty deed? Did you know that Ms. Newman was
pregnant, Mr. Johnson?”
Brad’s eyes almost exploded from his face. “What?
Tracey was pregnant?”
“That’s what I said. She was a little over three
months along.”
Brad whistled. “I wonder if she got pregnant from
the guy she worked for.”
Tom was surprised. “What guy?”
“His name was Don, I think. He is married, too.”
“Is he a doctor at the hospital?”
“No. I think he is one of the administrators.”
“Have you ever seen him, Mr. Johnson?”
“No, but Tracey seemed to be really taken by him. I
know she wanted him to leave his wife for her.”
Tom scribbled the name ‘Don’ on his notepad,
immediately thinking of Donald Russet, the man he met
at the hospital. “Do you know anything about him?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Okay, Mr. Johnson. I am still waiting for an answer
to my question.”
“What question was that?”
“Would you be willing to take a drug test? Someone
seems to think that Tracey was stealing pills for you,
and that you killed her to stop her from saying
anything.”
Brad shook his head, and a sad look descended on
his face. “I wouldn’t hurt Tracey, Lieutenant. We
weren’t exclusive as a couple, but I loved her as a
friend. Look, I have used drugs in the past – I still do
occasionally – and Tracey helped me get them
sometimes, but even if I lost my job because someone
found out, it would still be no motivation to kill her. No
job is worth someone’s life.”
Tom looked at Brad’s face attentively and his gut
feeling was that the yo
ung man was being sincere. “Tell
me Brad…I can call you Brad, right?”
“Of course.”
“Why does the old woman you work with not like
you? I noticed she smirked when you walked outside
with me.” He didn’t want to tell Brad that he was pretty
sure she was also the same person who called him the
night before accusing Brad of killing Tracey.
“I’m not sure. She’s never liked me very much,
since I started working here. I tried to be nice to her, but
it didn’t make any difference. I think she is just one of
those people who doesn’t like anybody and enjoys
seeing others suffering. A bitter old hag, if you pardon
my French.”
Tom made a mental note to interview the woman.
Of course, he couldn’t prove she was the person who
called, since the call was placed from a public phone,
but he could maybe fib a little and squeeze some
information from her. He was about to wrap things up
with Brad when his mobile phone rang.
“Lackey.”
“Lackey, it’s Parker. Tracey’s buddy, Shannon
Brinkley, tried to commit suicide. She is at Memorial
right now – they are trying to revive her. I’m in the
waiting area right now.”
“Shit, Parker! I will be there as soon as possible.
Don’t leave before I get there.”
He clicked the off button of his phone and turned
toward Brad. “I need to go right now. Police business. I
will be in touch soon. Meanwhile, if you can think of
anything, call me. Here is my card.” He handed Brad
one of his business cards and as soon as the young man
got out of the car he turned on his lights and siren and
sped down the road. Why would Shannon try to commit
suicide? Was she just overwhelmed because of her
violent girlfriend, or was there more to her decision?
The case was getting more and more confusing by the
day. With so many characters in the picture -- each of
them with a different motive to kill Tracey – Tom
wondered for a moment if the killer would ever be
brought to justice.
#
When Tom arrived at the hospital, Shannon had
been revived and admitted to ICU. Parker met him at the
main entrance and led him through the maze of different
departments until they reached the critical care unit. A
nurse tried to stop them at the entrance to Shannon’s
room, but one quick look at their badges made her recoil
like a snake being threatened with a rake.
Shannon was almost unrecognizable under all the
tubing, and Tom felt a weight on his heart when he
noticed the light bruise still on her eye and an additional
large bruise on her shoulder near the scar she showed
him the other night – when she dropped the sleeve of
her robe to expose the scar, that bruise wasn’t there. He
instantly felt a surge of anger rise from the pit of his
stomach, and he cursed under his breath. The goddamn
linebacker hit her again. Tom would have loved to be
alone in a room with that woman for a few minutes, and
his intentions were far from romantic.
Shannon’s skin looked gray, and even her dark hair
appeared to have lost its luster; it hung as limp and
heavy around her shoulders as an illfitting frame set
around a tragic picture.
“What happened?” He asked Parker who stood by
the entrance to the room.
Parker shook his head. “It’s still fuzzy. Her
roommate found her collapsed in the bathroom by the
bathtub. The docs are thinking overdose, but they are
still waiting for the toxicology report before they can
confirm.”
“By ‘roommate’ you mean Mary Townsend?” His
tone was suddenly harsh.
“Yes, big football-player-looking thing. She said she
got home from work and found Shannon in the
bathroom of their apartment.”
“Mary Townsend is Shannon Brinkley’s lover.
Abusive lover, I should say. The poor girl fighting for
her life in that bed has enough bruises to prove it,
including a new one she didn’t have a few nights ago.
Do you think she had anything to do with Shannon’s
alleged ‘suicide’?”
Parker paused to consider the possibility. “Well, she
seemed pretty tore up, but I guess anything is possible.
We did find a suicide note, though.”
“Oh yeah? What did it say?”
“That’s where it gets tricky, Lackey. In her note,
Shannon asked Tracey for forgiveness and she said she
couldn’t live with that burden.”
“What burden?”
“She didn’t say. Could she have killed Tracey?”
That possibility never occurred to Tom before, but
of course, as Parker mentioned a few moments ago,
anything was potentially viable. “Why would Shannon
have killed her though? What could her motive be?”
Parker shook his head. “Beats me. You never know
what type of skeletons people have in their closets.”
“No kidding. I talked to Brad Johnson today—the
guy Tracey dated on and off—and he told me that
Tracey was having an affair with a married man at the
hospital where she worked. Since we know she was
pregnant, and he certainly didn’t want that bit of happy
news to leak to his wife, that makes him a person of
interest. Brad Johnson is a junkie, and Tracey was
feeding him pills from the hospital; he surely didn’t
want to lose his job at the warehouse if that came out,
since they have a strict no-drug policy. Mary Townsend
hated Tracey because she suspected that Tracey and
Shannon had a tryst and knew that Tracey had asked
Shannon to get rid of her. And let’s not forget the stalker
Tracey was doing her best to avoid. All these people had
perfectly good reasons to want Tracey Newman dead.”
“Damn! From the picture Tracey looks like an
angel.” Parker said after he processed the list of Tracey’s
enemies.
“And maybe she was. We don’t know. Maybe all
these people were simply taking advantage of her.
Shannon Brinkley was the person who knew her best,
and could have shed some light on the whole murky
bottom, but she is currently on a respirator and unable to
talk.”
“Shouldn’t we interview Ms. Townsend? Maybe she
knows something.”
“Yeah, and we also need to let Tracey’s parents
know they lost more than just a daughter – they also lost
a grandchild.”
Parker ‘s eyes darkened with sadness. “Do you want
to tell her family yourself, or do you want me to?”
“It’s okay. I’ll do it after I ask Kathy some advice on
how to approach a grieving family to deliver even more
bad news. Her degree in psychology is coming very
handy.”
“Good thinking, Lackey. We’ll get to the bottom of
this.” In an unprecedented gesture, parker patted Tom’s
back as a sign of encouragement.
/>
“Yeah…I know we will. It’s just that with so many
paths to walk it is easy to miss something along the way.
Where is the Townsend woman now?”
“I think she mentioned she was heading back home
to shower and change.”
“Good. I will catch her there if I hurry.”
“Do you want me to come along?”
“Suit yourself. Nothing much we can do here.”
They headed out toward their respective cars. Tom
waited at the exit from the parking lot for Parker to
catch up, and as soon as he saw his car coming, he sped
toward the beltline heading to Tracey’s apartment. Mary
Townsend was responsible for injuring Shannon before;
did she try to kill her this time? Maybe she found out
that Shannon told on her and her anger escalated. Or
could it be that Shannon had discovered something that
had to do with Tracey’s death and the killer tried to
silence her? Or, even worse, could Shannon have killed
her best friend and was now unable to live with the
guilt? Many questions, and not enough answers; many
tiles and no connecting pieces. As he drove along,
something else floated to the edge of his consciousness:
When Brad had exited his car yesterday Tom noticed he
was wearing Redwing steel-toed boots! Shannon knew
Brad, and he probably had regular access to the
apartment. Tom hoped to find the killer before any more
innocent lives were taken.
#
Tracey was running through the forest. She turned
around several times to see if the man was catching up
to her, and she tripped on a root hidden under a bed of
leaves. The man was getting closer – she could hear his
labored breathing and his footsteps approaching. He was
going to kill her. By now, Tracey had no doubt of it. She
tripped on one more root, and her ankle was cut by a
line of thorns near the ground, but she ignored the pain
and continued running. Someone else called her name –
a woman’s voice -- but the voice was too far for her to
make out whom it belonged to. She saw something
through the trees, and focused on what appeared to be a
light shining through the foliage, but the man was upon
her now. When he got close enough, he leaped and
landed on top of her, slamming her to the ground. As
Tracey fell, her baby slid out from inside of her and lay
on the ground, the tiny face barely formed contorted in a
silent scream. The baby died a few moments later, a tiny
hand touching his mother’s lifeless body as he left this
Killer in Sight (A Tom Lackey Mystery) Page 12
