Wrongful Death (A Detective Jackson Mystery)

by L. J. Sellers

  Quince walked in first, looking as tired as Jackson felt.

  “Where the hell were you last night?”

  Quince slumped into a chair. “I’m sorry, but I have a second job now. I’m a part-time TSA agent at the airport.”

  Relief hit Jackson hard. Quince wasn’t their perp. “But why?”

  “My mother lost her job two months ago and is broke, and my girlfriend is having health issues and can’t work. Suddenly, a lot of people depend on me financially, and this position just doesn’t pay enough by itself.”

  Compassion first. “I’m sorry to hear all that.” Now the reality check. “But you should have told me. Or Lammers. We needed you last night. We lost the perp, and a girl was not only assaulted, but she almost froze to death too.”

  “Oh shit.” Quince covered his face. “I’m so sorry.”

  Jackson let him off the hook. “The sting came together at the last minute, and it could have gone badly, even with your help. But we had to call Lammers out for backup, so I’m sure she’ll have something to say about it.”

  “Right after this meeting.” The boss strode in, looking alert despite her late night. “How is Skylar Norton doing?”

  “I was with her parents when a nurse reassured them she would survive.”

  They were all quiet for a moment. Schak strode in and dropped his carryall on the table. “What a clusterfuck that turned out to be.” He slumped into a chair, looking haggard.

  Evans came in behind him. “The Kelsey Walker profile is gone. Deleted. I checked first thing this morning.”

  Schak let out a string of curses—something they all tried not to do, especially in the building. Except for Lammers. She did and said whatever she wanted.

  He caught his partner’s gaze. “Schak, this is your case. What do you want to do next?”

  “I’m going back to Cranston with another subpoena. A girl almost died last night after chatting with the Kelsey profile. I want to find out everything we can about that account.”

  “I thought Facebook was going to send a location.”

  “They did. Kelsey’s page was created at the library. But there has to be more. If the guy ever used a credit card on the site or uploaded a photo from his cell phone—that information is still out there. We also need to dig into the site where he posted the video of Ashley.” Schak’s voice became loud and passionate. “We need to sit here in this conference room and write subpoenas until it’s time for Danny’s funeral service.”

  Jackson patted his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I can’t make the service. I have a custody hearing for Benjie, and now I have a challenger. If I’m not there, I’ll lose.”

  Schak spun toward him. “Who else wants Benjie?”

  His teammates had all become fond of the boy during an earlier investigation. “A woman named Caprice Arlen. She claims to be his aunt.”

  “I’ll testify to how quickly he bonded to you,” Evans offered.

  “Thanks, but his social service manager will be there to recommend me.” Jackson looked around. “Let’s get focused.” He’d decided to run the meeting. Now that the cases had merged, Schak needed to step back again because of his emotional involvement. Which reminded him: Lammers didn’t know the cases had merged and that he was still investigating Thompson’s death. He would explain when it came up.

  “What went wrong last night?” Evans asked. “And again, I’m sorry I wasn’t available.”

  Schak shook his head, the circles under his eyes even darker this morning. He hadn’t shaved either. “The perp never showed at the party. Plus, he used a private chat to find out Skylar’s plans, then picked her up when she left a friend’s house.”

  “He used chloroform this time,” Jackson added. “The hospital found traces. So he’s becoming more aggressive.”

  “Have the parents received a blackmail text?” Evans asked, standing next to the whiteboard.

  “Not yet. But the last time he waited until the next morning, so it could still be coming,” Schak said. “We still have a chance to grab him during the money drop.”

  “If he shut down the profile, he’s not going to risk a blackmail scheme,” Evans argued.

  Lammers spoke up. “Are we certain the person behind that profile is our guy?”

  Jackson was confident. “Dragoo accessed the account and saw some of the exchanges with Skylar and another girl right before the predator shut it down.”

  “How did you find the profile?” the boss probed.

  Jackson tried to finesse the fact that he had continued working Thompson’s case after she’d ordered him not to. “We found another victim from a few weeks ago. The perp claimed to have a video, but he couldn’t produce proof of it, so the parents didn’t pay the blackmail.”

  “They didn’t report it either?”

  “The perp also said he had proof that the daughter smoked the mother’s medical marijuana, so she was afraid to be arrested and fired.”

  Lammers tapped a pen on the table. “So the blackmailer failed to collect a payment two weeks ago, then failed to collect again last week with Ashley’s parents.” The sergeant looked at Jackson. “He seems desperate and escalating. He may try something more direct.”

  “Like what? Rob a bank?” Schak scowled.

  “Or straight blackmail,” Jackson said. “He seems to know things about the parents. We need to figure out where he’s getting his information.”

  “I thought it might be Riverside school,” Schak said. “But I checked the list of employees, and no one has any criminal history. But now we have Grace, who attends Sheldon, and Skylar goes to Spencer, so maybe he works for the school district.”

  “Good thought.” Lammers was animated, enjoying herself. “Let’s see if we can get a complete list of employees who have access to the district’s computers, then cross-check them with criminal files.”

  “And everything else we know about him,” Schak added. “School districts usually run background checks.”

  “Teachers sometimes sexually molest their students anyway,” Evans argued. “So he might not have a criminal background.”

  “What other angles can we work?” Lammers seemed to have taken over the meeting.

  “I can do more follow-up on the one blackmail payment he successfully collected,” Schak said. “He used Mobile Source and one of its clients. So I think he lives or works in the area around the drop. We can correlate that location with school employees.”

  Jackson had a thought. “If he’s using the library computers, maybe we can set up some flags in their system. I’ll call and ask.”

  “What else do I need to know?” the boss asked.

  Jackson had to tell her. “Officer Thompson knew about Grace Marston’s assault. Grace interacted with Kelsey Walker right before she was attacked. That’s how we found the profile.”

  Lammers was silent, her expression unreadable.

  Schak jumped in. “What if Danny was investigating these assaults on his own?”

  Lammers turned slowly toward Schak. “You’re saying that Dan Thompson’s murder might be connected to the rape-and-blackmail crimes?”

  “We think so.” Schak grimaced. “Maybe the perp killed Danny to protect himself.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” Lammers stared at Jackson now. “How does that explain Pete Scully’s death?”

  “He was framed. I think the killer shot him while he slept.”

  “The Walsh twins had nothing to do with Thompson’s death? And neither did the drifter?” Lammers seemed shell-shocked.

  “It looks that way.”

  “Then we start over.” The boss stood. “But first, we have a funeral service to attend.”

  CHAPTER 39

  On the way out of the building, Jackson said, “I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m sorry about the bad timing of my court hearing.”
/>
  Schak didn’t need an apology. “Don’t worry, the rest of the department will be there. Besides, you broke open the case. That’s the best way to honor Danny.”

  Jackson pulled something from his pocket and handed it to him. “I found this in your cousin’s truck. I listened to a few files, and most of them seemed personal. Maybe you should have it.”

  Schak slipped the recorder into his pocket. How much would it hurt to listen to Danny’s voice? “Thanks. Good luck in court.”

  They parted ways in the parking lot, and Schak hurried to his car. He still had to swing by and pick up Kurt for the service. His cousin had contacted him early that morning and asked for a ride. Aunt Donna had been called in to perform a heart transplant surgery at a nearby hospital and wouldn’t make the service either.

  Schak drove across town, grateful for the unexpected blue sky. Danny deserved a glorious memorial with bright sunshine to reflect his life of service. Thinking about Danny hurt like hell. It was so hard to accept that he was gone. They would never camp and fish together again. Or attend UO football games, drinking in the parking lot with the rest of the tailgaters. Maybe he would start to spend more time with Kurt. He and Danny had tried to include him, but the wheelchair made things challenging, and Kurt didn’t care for sports.

  He turned on Lincoln Street and started up the hill. Hoping to make himself feel better, Schak reached into his pocket for the recorder Jackson had given him and played the first file. Instead, hearing Danny’s voice almost made him cry. It was just a list of things to do, with an occasional humorous comment, such as “See eye doctor for glasses. Squinting ruins my handsome face.” God, he would miss him.

  Schak waited until the emotional moment passed, then listened to another file. “Find out what medicine Kurt is taking. It’s helping him get around better, but the side effects are awful.”

  That was news to him. Kurt had always been able to stand and take a few steps, but the pain was unbearable. Schak had never seen him walk more than a few feet. He turned on Twenty-Fourth and realized he was passing the location of the blackmail money drop. Too bad that turned into a dead end.

  He listened to several more of Danny’s mundane messages, then one caught his attention. “Confront Kurt with the list of my username and password violations.”

  What was that about? As a computer specialist with the county, Kurt had access to employee databases, but what did he have to gain by logging into police files? Schak drove a half block and parked in front of Kurt’s small house. His aunt had recently helped his cousin buy it so he could be more autonomous.

  Schak hurried up the walkway and rang the doorbell. Kurt didn’t respond, so he rang again then opened the door a crack. “Kurt, you ready?”

  He stepped inside. They were family, and that was how it had always been with their mothers and their homes. “Kurt, let’s go. We don’t want to be late for Danny’s funeral.” In his head, he heard Aunt Donna teasing Danny about being late to his own funeral. Schak fought the grief that threatened to engulf him. Kurt’s wheelchair was by the door leading from the kitchen into the garage, but he didn’t see his cousin. He stepped into the short hallway and called out again.

  From the garage, Kurt called back, “I’ll be right in.”

  What was he doing out there? Schak started in that direction, then froze. A bedroom door was ajar, and he stepped toward it. Something had caught his eye. The bed. It was shoved into a corner and covered with only a dirty white sheet. Like the background in Ashley’s assault video. No! It had to be coincidence. This was just a spare bedroom, like thousands of others. Schak pushed open the door and looked around. Nothing else was in the room except a small dresser against the wall near the door. Instinctively, he stepped toward the closet and jerked open the bifold doors. A blue patrol uniform hung in the back. Queasy dread made his knees buckle a little. Oh, fuck, no. But how? Kurt couldn’t even walk.

  He heard the sound of Kurt’s wheelchair coming. Schak stepped away from the closet.

  His cousin rolled into the bedroom. “What are you doing in here?” His handsome face was unsmiling.

  “You can walk now, can’t you?” Schak felt the anger in his voice and didn’t care.

  “A little bit. I’ve been taking a gene therapy for a year now, and it’s working.” Kurt sounded calm, but his eyes flashed with fear. “I still need the wheelchair.”

  “Why keep your progress a secret?”

  “Because I don’t trust it. I keep thinking I’ll slip back.”

  Schak thought about the girls who’d been assaulted. They’d been abducted first and transported to the perp’s house. “Is your car in the garage?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “What were you doing out there?”

  “Just cleaning it out. Why all the questions?”

  “Why did you call me for a ride?”

  “It’s Danny’s funeral service.” Kurt’s voice cracked with emotion. “Mom had to get ready for an important last-minute surgery, and I didn’t want to go alone. We should leave now.”

  “Why do you have a cop’s uniform in your closet?”

  “I bought it for a Halloween party a long time ago. Because my brother and my cousin are police officers. Because I wanted to be one too. What’s the big deal? Come on, let’s go.”

  Shaking with anger, Schak yelled, “Stand up! I want to see you walk.”

  “Why are you being like this?” Kurt rolled away from him.

  The truth was obvious and deeply painful. He’d lost another cousin. “You’re lying! Ashley Devonshire was sexually assaulted in this room. You videotaped it and blackmailed her parents.” Schak lurched toward him, grabbed the lapels of his suit, and pulled him to his feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Get off me!” Kurt jerked free and took a swing at him.

  Schak blocked it, rage taking over. He punched Kurt in the gut to stun the taller man, then followed up with a shot to his face. “You fucking pervert!”

  Blood ran from his cousin’s nose, but Kurt didn’t cry out. He charged Schak, head down, and slammed into his chest. Schak bounced into the wall, but brought a fist up under Kurt’s chin. He pummeled his cousin’s head until he dropped to his knees.

  Schak knocked him to the ground and straddled him. “Tell me why you did it.”

  “Just let it go.” Kurt’s face had begun to swell, and his eyes filled with tears.

  Schak grabbed a handful of hair and slammed Kurt’s head into the floor. “Why? The money? Sexual jollies? Was it worth it? Your last victim killed herself!”

  His cousin cried out, “I didn’t know she died. I’m so sorry.”

  Schak wasn’t moved by his pain. It meant nothing compared to the hole that had just been ripped in his heart. “Why the blackmail? Aunt Donna has always taken care of you. What did you need the money for?”

  “The medication is expensive and not covered by insurance.” Kurt’s voice was loud, raw, and defensive. “Mom lost a malpractice suit and couldn’t pay for it anymore.”

  It hurt to think about. “But rape? So you could afford the pills that helped you walk?”

  “It wasn’t rape. Just a little finger fucking. No one got hurt.”

  “A girl killed herself!”

  “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  Sick to his stomach, Schak stood and reached for the cuffs he always carried in his work suit. “Get up. I’m taking you in.”

  “Please don’t. I’ll stop, I promise. I’m not a real threat to anyone.” Kurt struggled to his feet, wiping blood from his face.

  Was he serious? Did Kurt not realize he was a criminal? How could he and Danny be brothers? Even half brothers? Danny! A realization hit Schak with a force that felt physical. Danny had figured it out. Rage crushed his brain and distorted his vision. “You killed your own brother to keep from going to jail? You worthl
ess piece of shit!” Schak slammed his fist into Kurt’s mouth. Kurt cried out and fell, landing on his wheelchair.

  Holding his chin, Kurt shouted, “What are you talking about? I thought a homeless man killed Danny.” His cousin looked stunned.

  “Danny knew about two of the assaults. He confronted you, didn’t he?”

  “No.” Something shifted in his eyes. “I would never hurt Danny.”

  “But he hurt you all those years ago and put you in a wheelchair.”

  “That was an accident, and I’m getting better.” Kurt clasped his hands together, begging. “You’ve got to believe me. I didn’t kill Danny, and I can’t believe you think I would.”

  “Liar!” Schak spun him around and cuffed him. “You’ll get the death penalty for killing a police officer. But you’re already dead to me.”

  “I didn’t kill him!”

  “Then who did?”

  Kurt began to weep. “Oh god. I think I know.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Jackson walked into the court at the juvenile justice center, and his body tensed. The last time he’d been in this room, a judge had determined that Katie needed counseling for her drinking, and he’d had to recount the whole scenario of how her mother died. This time would be different, he told himself. The guardianship hearing he’d already had for Benjie had taken place in the judge’s office, and it had been brief.

  Jackson spotted Kera in the back row and took a seat next to her. Benjie climbed out of her lap and into his, then kissed his face. “I missed you, Daddy.”

  “I missed you too.” Jackson leaned over and kissed Kera. “Thanks for taking such good care of the boys.” He tousled Micah’s hair so Kera’s grandson didn’t feel left out. If he and Kera were going to move in together, he had to start treating Micah more like a son.