Killer in Sight (A Tom Lackey Mystery)

by Sandra Carrington-Smith

  impossible to determine whether she wrote it herself or

  if someone else did. His hands squeezed around the

  steering wheel and he took one deep breath to steady

  himself.

  “Who pissed in your cereal this morning, Lackey? I

  found Jack Little – I thought you’d be happy to hear.”

  Tom’s attention was piqued. “You did? Where? His

  sister told me he left town a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Nope. He is in town, alright. He lives in a rented

  efficiency near the hospital. The name on the agreement

  is Joseph Bernardini.”

  “How the hell did you find him?”

  “Small world. I was actually driving behind him

  yesterday, and his plate was expired, so I pulled him

  over. The name on his driver’s license was Joseph

  Bernardini, but the plate was registered under the name

  of Jack Little. I didn’t want to scare him out of town, so

  I didn’t say anything, and made a note of the address

  listed on the license, which is different than the one used

  for the vehicle registration. When I mentioned that his

  plate was expired he said that he was driving a friend’s

  car; I let him go.”

  “Good work, Parker. Do you want to go see him

  with me?”

  “Sure thing. Are you coming to the station?”

  “Yes. I will be there in five minutes, so meet me in

  the parking lot and I will pick you up.”

  He hung up from Parker and drove the two blocks

  that separated him from the station, all the while

  thinking about the different people involved in the case.

  When he drove into the parking lot Parker was already

  waiting outside by the main door, so he pulled up for

  him to get in the car. Parker had a grin on his face,

  something that in itself was quite unnerving.

  “What are you grinning about, Parker? Something

  funny?”

  “Yeah, actually…I was just thinking about the face

  Little is going to make when he sees me again today.”

  Parker really had a strange sense of humor.

  “Well, hopefully he won’t get spooked and flee. I

  would love to be able to ask him a few questions.”

  “I was just thinking that. What about if I wait in the

  car and you call me if you need help?”

  Along with the odd sense of humor, Parker also had

  a well-configured mind when it came to strategies.

  “Let’s do that. He doesn’t need to feel like we are

  stalking him. Not yet, at least.”

  ‘So you mentioned that his sister told you he left

  town. How the hell did you find his sister?”

  “Mary Townsend is his sister. I wonder if he is as

  big as she is – we might need reinforcements if he gets

  despondent.”

  “Son of a bitch! You’re for real? He’s her brother?”

  “Yes. She dropped the bomb this morning when I

  went by to see her.”

  “Damn! This is getting more and more complicated

  by the minute!”

  “Oh wait. You don’t know the best part yet: Mary

  Townsend said that Shannon Brinkley is possibly the

  killer.”

  “That little thing in the hospital?”

  “Come on, Parker, you know that size doesn’t really

  matter, and friends regularly fuck their buddies. It could

  be; who knows?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just easier to picture the

  Townsend woman doing it, but I suppose anything could

  have happened.”

  They pulled into the parking lot and Parker pointed

  at the maroon Buick sitting wounded in a spot toward

  the end of the lot. “Here’s the car. He’s home.”

  Tom pulled his car beside the Buick and Parker

  remained inside. Tom got out and walked to the door of

  the efficiency that was registered under Joseph

  Bernardini.

  The building was shabby, as was the whole area

  around it. Across the street were a couple of houses that

  had probably been fairly pleasant many years before but

  had fallen victim to age and neglect; old couches

  seemed to be the choice of outdoor furniture in this part

  of town, since both houses – and a few others on each

  side of them – had them on display on the rickety

  porches. Two youths with sagged pants and fake gold

  chains stood by the entrance of another home on which

  the peeling mustard-yellow paint had faded to the shade

  of spoiled mayonnaise.

  Tom knocked on the door but nothing prepared him

  for the surprise that awaited him the moment the door

  opened and a short, dark man with a head of close-cut,

  curly hair and beady black eyes materialized from

  inside. He and Mary Townsend might have shared a

  mother, but their fathers were probably night and day…

  “Mr. Jack Little?”

  The man looked at Tom suspiciously and his dark

  eyes narrowed into charcoal slits. “Who wants him?”

  “Lieutenant Tom Lackey, with the Raleigh police

  department, Sir. Are you Jack Little?”

  “I don’t go by that name any more. I decided to

  change life and I am starting on a clean slate.”

  “That’s honorable, Sir, but I was wondering if you

  could answer a few questions for me.”

  “What is this about?”

  “It’s about Tracey Newman, Sir. I understand you

  and Ms. Newman had a relationship.”

  “That was a long time ago, Lieutenant. Tracey and I

  had different goals in life, and I decided to move on.”

  Tom nodded. “I see. May I come in?”

  “Actually, I am on my way to work, Lieutenant.

  Unless this is urgent, I really need to ask you if we can

  arrange a phone meeting. Is Tracey okay? Is she in

  trouble?”

  Tom couldn’t read his expression – did he really not

  know Tracey was no longer living?

  “I’m afraid Ms. Newman is deceased, Mr. Little. I

  am touching base with everyone who knew her, trying to

  understand a bit more about whom she was.”

  “Tracey is dead?” Tears filled his eyes and quickly

  ran down Jack Little’s cheeks. His legs trembled and he

  steadied himself against the door frame. “What

  happened?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me that, Mr. Little. Can

  you think of anyone who would want Tracey Newman

  dead?”

  “Are you saying Tracey was killed by someone?”

  Tom didn’t respond, but Jack Little found the

  information he was seeking in Tom’s eyes.

  “Oh my God…not Tracey…not my sweet girl…”

  He burst into sobs so intense his whole small body

  shook with them.

  “Can I help you inside, Mr. Little? Maybe you

  should sit down.”

  “Tracey didn’t deserve this. Whoever did it should

  die for this.”

  “Can you think of anyone who might have a reason

  to harm her?”

  “The only two people I can think of are Shannon

  and maybe that new guy Tracey was seeing.”

  “Do you mean Shannon Brinkley, Sir?”

  “Yes, her roommate. She didn’t like Tracey, you
/>   know?”

  “Why was that, Mr. Little?”

  “Because she thought Tracey ruined her reputation,

  and my sister believed that Shannon also had a thing for

  this guy Tracey was seeing.”

  Of course…Mary Townsend saw ghosts of lovers

  lurking everywhere.

  Tom arched his eyebrow. “Which guy? Are you

  talking about Brad Johnson?”

  “Yes, the junkie. They might have been on this

  together.”

  “Why would you think that, Mr. Little?”

  “Because Tracey had a large insurance policy, and

  when she was seeing Brad Johnson she made him her

  beneficiary. After they broke up, she told Shannon she

  was going to change the policy and make her little sister

  her beneficiary. Tracey didn’t know Shannon liked her

  boyfriend.”

  Tom was utterly confused. Isn’t Shannon gay?!

  “Pardon the forward question, Mr. Little, but I was

  under the impression that Shannon Brinkley is in a

  relationship with your sister.”

  “She was – is. Shannon is bisexual.”

  Tom didn’t expect this type of revelation, and he

  couldn’t help noticing that Jack Little was at ease using

  the past tense when he talked about Shannon, although

  he just discovered she was no longer of this Earth. “Are

  you in contact with Shannon Brinkley, Mr. Little?”

  “No, I don’t like her. Never have.”

  “So you aren’t aware that Shannon Brinkley is at

  the hospital right now, fighting for her life?”

  “No, I didn’t know.”

  “I see. Well, here is my card, Mr. Little. If you can

  think of anything that might help the investigation,

  please call me.”

  The small man took the card and stuffed it in his

  trousers pocket. “I will, Lieutenant. You must excuse me

  now, but I really need to go.”

  “No problem, Mr. Little. Thank you for your time.”

  Jack Little disappeared behind the chipped, faded

  door, and Tom walked briskly toward his car. Parker was

  on the phone when he got in, and he seemed excited

  about something. He hung up a few seconds later. “I got

  the records for Jack Little, a/k/a Joseph Bernardini. He

  is clean, but I also ran records for Mary Townsend, since

  they are kin. She is no angel -- lots of DUIs and a

  revoked license.”

  “Damn it, Parker…there is something missing here.

  I feel like we are running in circles. Did you know

  Tracey had a life insurance policy to which Brad

  Johnson was initially the only beneficiary? According to

  Little, she decided to amend the policy and nominate her

  little sister in place of Brad after they broke up.”

  “What? Seriously? I didn’t find any policies. Does

  her family know?”

  “They never mentioned, but I will ask when I go by

  there a bit later to let them know about the baby.”

  “Wow! These people can’t catch a break, can they?’

  “No, I’m afraid not. And the saddest thing for them

  to find out is that their little girl seemed to have more

  bones hidden away than Jeffrey Dahmer.

  #

  It was a bit past six when Tom dropped Parker off at

  the station, and although Mr. Russet was probably

  already off work, he decided to go by the hospital

  anyway. If he couldn’t talk to him today, he could at

  least check on Shannon’s condition.

  He parked his car and took his time walking to the

  building, as he felt the need to be out in the sunshine for

  a while, and gather his thoughts. Even after all these

  years in law enforcement, Tom was still amazed at what

  surfaced any time one started digging into someone’s

  past. Apparently good people were still hated by some,

  and most of them had something to hide. He wondered

  about the mysterious man Tracey was having an affair

  with, and he hoped Mr. Russet could shed some light on

  this.

  He walked through the sliding doors and went

  directly to the information desk.

  “Is Mr. Russet still here by any chance?”

  The receptionist, a young woman in her mid-thirties

  with bleached blond hair and a prematurely wrinkled

  face smiled and picked up the phone. “Let me check for

  you, Sir. One moment, please.”

  Tom scanned the room as he waited and he noticed

  a family of four people – father and three children –

  sitting together in one corner of the waiting area. The

  father held a little girl of no more than a couple of years

  of age, her eyes heavy with sleep, and he kissed her

  repeatedly on the forehead; two boys less than ten years

  old were fidgeting in their seats, and Tom smiled as he

  saw himself mirrored in one of them; when he was

  about the same age, his own mother had been in a minor

  automobile wreck, and Tom still remembered how he

  felt sitting in the waiting room – although he was

  apprehensive about his mother’s wellbeing, he wanted

  to get up and play but his father wouldn’t have it.

  “Sir, Mr. Russet is not answering his phone, but I

  haven’t seen him come through yet, so you might want

  to go by his office and see if he still there. Do you need

  a map?”

  “No, thank you. I know where it is.”

  He left the desk and turned at the corner by the

  elevators to get to administration. When he reached Mr.

  Russet’s office he saw the door ajar, but when he peeked

  inside the man was not at his desk. He was ready to

  leave when Mr. Russet came down the hallway

  accompanied by a tall blond clad in a powder blue

  designer suit and heels that made her tower over Mr.

  Russet dramatically. When Mr. Russet saw Tom

  standing by the door, his face dropped one shade of

  color. He walked resolutely toward the Lieutenant and

  puffed his chest while the corners of his mouth went

  automatically up to form a hint of a smile.

  “Lieutenant…I was just getting ready to leave for

  the day. May I help you?”

  “Yes, Mr. Russet. I was wondering if I could have a

  word with you. It won’t take long.”

  “Certainly. Let’s go in my office. Thank you, Erin, I

  will see you tomorrow.” He said as he walked toward

  the door and quickly dismissed the young woman.

  Tom followed him inside and sat on one of the two

  chairs in front of the desk.

  “I’m sure you understand it has been a long day,

  Lieutenant, and I am quite tired and ready to go back

  home to my family. I have commitments for the

  evening.”

  “I’ll be brief – it has come to light that Ms. Newman

  was involved in a relationship with someone in

  administration by the name of Don. Any idea who this

  person might be?”

  Mr. Russet’s face lost color again before exploding

  into a shade of bright pink, made even shinier by tiny

  droplets of perspiration that formed on his upper lip. It

  was as if the word ‘guilty’ flashed in neon letters on his

&
nbsp; forehead. Was Mr. Russet the mysterious man Tracey

  was seeing?

  Donald Russet swallowed audibly and Tom watched

  him shift uncomfortably in his seat. The man’s inner

  conflict between coming clean and continuing to hide

  his indiscretion was playing as a silent film on the black

  screen of his dilated pupils. Tom shifted his approach to

  a more personal level, and addressed the man by first

  name, making a statement more than asking a question.

  “Was it you, Don? Did you have an affair with Tracey?

  Nobody is judging here, but I have to know who she

  was seeing.”

  Don appeared to be on the verge of tears, but he

  took a deep breath and straightened his spine, though his

  shoulders were still a bit droopy. “It’s not how it was,

  Lieutenant.”

  Bingo! Tracey was seeing Don Russet…

  “Why don’t you explain it in your own words,

  Don?”

  Don Russet loosened his tie and undid the first

  button on the collar of his immaculate shirt. “Tracey and

  I were friends, more than anything. I think she saw me

  as a father figure, and I guess she was the daughter I

  always wanted – ambitious, driven and kind. Tracey was

  a very sunny person.”

  “Were you having a relationship with her, Don?

  More than a father-daughter relationship, I mean…”

  “Not in the beginning. I simply admired her resolve

  and her unbridled enthusiasm. Tracey never complained

  about being worked too hard, and she welcomed every

  opportunity to learn something new. I wanted to see her

  succeed and become the professional she had the

  potential to become.”

  “When did your relationship change to a more

  intimate one?”

  “It wasn’t long, I’m afraid. You see, I haven’t seen

  many fireworks in my personal life the last few years,

  and I was naturally attracted and intrigued by Tracey’s

  passion for life.”

  “And Tracey? Was she interested in pursuing a

  relationship with you as well?”

  “Believe me, Lieutenant, I was very surprised too in

  the beginning. Tracey was so beautiful, and so bright,

  that I found it hard to believe she was falling for

  someone like me. We went out to dinner a few times,

  and things quickly escalated.”

  “Is your wife at all aware of this relationship?”

  “No! Of course not…Helen wouldn’t take an extramarital relationship lightly, and I am afraid she would leave me.”