Cold Blooded

by Anne Patrick

  Nick grinned. "She only has one. Travis, he's a great kid."

  "Didn't you just meet her Saturday?" She nudged his shoulder.

  "Yeah, but I've been over to her place every day since. She's a great cook."

  "Why, Nick. I think you're finally growing up."

  "Shut up." He shoved her away gently and they both laughed.

  Ian smiled. He was really glad he had taken Nick up on his offer of joining them tonight. It had been a while since he had this much fun. He definitely needed to get out more.

  Sara came back inside. "I'm real sorry, Nick. I'm gonna have to go. Travis is running a small temperature and has vomited a couple of times. He probably caught that bug that's been going around at school."

  "Hey, no problem. I'll follow you home. Make sure he's okay." Nick turned to Ian and Gwen. "See you tomorrow."

  Ian offered his hand to Sara. "It was nice meeting you. I'll keep your boy in my prayers."

  "Thank you. I appreciate that. Gwen, I hope to see you again."

  Ian caught Gwen looking at him. Was she surprised by his comment on prayer or was there some chemistry at play between them?

  She quickly averted his gaze. "I'm sure we will, Sara."

  Ian motioned to the table. "Shall we finish? I'll take their balls."

  She pointed to the two quarters left on the table. "Or we can start a new game. I'll even let you break."

  He retrieved the coins, accepting her challenge.

  "I'm going to need some of that pie, though." She grabbed the wallet from her purse. "You wanna another piece?"

  "No, thanks. One's my limit."

  In her absence, he racked up the balls. Ian was glad she had extended the offer to play another game. He wasn't quite ready for this night to end. It was nice being in the company of a woman again, even if they were only colleagues.

  Gwen returned carrying a tray with two glasses of tea and a piece of pie. "Why'd you wanna come to Shorewick of all places?"

  "A few years back, my family and I were heading to the Grand Canyon and had some car trouble. We ended up having to stay the night." He took the glass she offered. "There was just something about the place that always appealed to me."

  "I've never understood the big attraction to the Grand Canyon."

  "Have you ever seen it in person?"

  "No."

  "That's why. It's one of God's best masterpieces."

  "Not according to scientists," she argued.

  "Aw, a skeptic."

  "No, a realist."

  "There are usually two sides to every story. Believing one and not the other doesn't necessarily make it right."

  Gwen shrugged, took a bite of her pie, and then grabbed her stick.

  "Go ahead and break. You're probably going to need a head start."

  Gwen let loose a boisterous laugh. "Now who's cocky?" She moved to the end of the table and lined up the cue ball. With a quick jerk of her stick, the cue ball went spinning and two striped balls went into opposite pockets.

  "Good job." He strutted past her and looked over his options.

  "What do your kids think of you starting a new chapter in your life?"

  "JoAnn loves the idea. Isaac, not so much."

  "He's the oldest, right?"

  "Yeah," he answered, surprised she remembered. "He and I haven't spoken much since his mom died."

  "Why-- I'm sorry. That just sort of popped out. I wasn't trying to pry into your personal life."

  He looked up from the shot he was about to take. "I know you weren't. You're just curious as to why I left Phoenix to start over in a place I barely knew."

  "Well, it's pretty gutsy if you ask me. I mean, you said you were on the force there sixteen years. Most cops retire after twenty."

  "My wife committed suicide." Ian regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. Then it was like something broke loose inside him. "You see, our youngest daughter, Christine, was killed in a car accident five years ago at the age of ten. My wife, Laurel, was driving her home from soccer practice when a drunk driver ran a red light and broadsided them."

  Ian leaned against the table for support, avoiding Gwen's sympathetic gaze. The pain of losing his little girl stung as deeply now as it had the day it happened. "Christine and the man driving the other vehicle were killed instantly; Laurel walked away with a mild concussion and some bumps and bruises. Even though Laurel wasn't at fault, she still blamed herself for our daughter's death. Up until the accident, Laurel was a successful real estate agent. But afterwards, she sank into a deep depression and refused to get help."

  He expelled a deep breath. "I came home from work one day and found she had taken a half bottle of sleeping pills. I remember being so mad at her for doing it but, at the same time, wishing I were lying right next to her. The grief of losing a child is indescribable. It's a pain that never goes away."

  "Oh, Ian, I am so sorry."

  He glanced over, surprised by the tears forming in Gwen's eyes. "Wow. I don't know why I just told you all that."

  She smiled at him. "Maybe you just needed to get it off your chest."

  "Yeah, but I didn't mean to burden you with it."

  "Hey, I can be a good listener…when I like the person."

  "I'm starting to think everyone's been exaggerating about you." He prayed she was also discreet. The last thing he needed was for the whole unit to know about his tragic past.

  "Like I said, I have my good days."

  They finished their game of pool in which Gwen had managed to beat him by three balls. Ian then walked her out to her car.

  "Your gym, does it have a good weight room?" he asked, pausing next to the blue SUV.

  She unlocked the door with her key fob. "One of the best in the city. It also has a rock climbing wall, treadmills, elliptical climbers, and a sauna. Maxwells on 21st and Vine. They're open from five a.m. till ten at night, twelve on the weekends. Check it out."

  "I will." He got the door for her. "Hey, if you want another set of eyes and ears on that triple murder case, I'd be happy to take a look."

  "Sure." Gwen started to close the door but then stopped. "Just so you know, you don't have to worry about me saying anything about tonight…I mean about what you told me."

  "I appreciate that, Gwen. See you in the morning."

  "Good night."

  Ian watched her pull from the parking lot. A part of him was embarrassed for having unloaded on her tonight, but at the same time he felt relieved. The last time he had really talked about his loss with anyone other than God, was with the department shrink back in Phoenix. He hadn't felt that comfortable talking about it then. Tonight he was more relaxed, like he was sharing with a friend. Someone who knew him, or on some level could relate to what he had gone through.

  Ian looked to the heavens and smiled. "Thanks Lord!"

  *****

  On the drive home, Gwen reflected on the evening. It wasn't long till tears formed as she recalled Ian's story. Not only because it was heart wrenching, but because it touched so close to home. The image of her mother's body lying on their living room floor with a needle sticking from her arm was as vivid now as it was eighteen years ago.

  Gwen swiped at the tears and forced herself to think of happier times. When you live in the past, it consumes the present. She expelled a deep breath as she remembered the words of wisdom spoken by the man who probably saved her life. Gwen had already been in the foster care system two years. Had run from every home they placed her in when she went before the bench of Judge Perry Larkin. She would never forget the heart-to-heart talk they had in his chambers that day. Afterwards, he had made her a deal. He told her if she would stop running, stay where he placed her and finish high school; he would foot the bill for her first year in college. And he did just that.

  As soon as Gwen got home, she dug out the Bartlett file from the desk drawer in her spare bedroom. She had a few other open cases but this one was like a thorn in her side. When she first met Dawson Bartlett, something se
emed off about the kid. Since becoming a detective, Gwen had interviewed a lot of family members of murdered loved ones. One thing she noticed different in Dawson was his lack of empathy. Not only didn't he seem upset at the loss of his family members, according to his teachers and classmates, he didn’t seem to care about anyone but himself.

  Despite Gwen's best effort to prove the kid was involved, she couldn't find anything solid to link him to the murders. He was smart, had covered his tracks meticulously. With any luck, though, Ian would find something she may have missed and she could finally put this case to rest.

  She moved into the living room, laid the thick vanilla file on the coffee table, and began to sort through it. She gathered together all her case notes she had yet to add to the official file at work. A legal size envelope slid off the table, and as she caught it, a colored photo fell onto the floor. It was one of several prints she had made to show to Bartlett's classmates and neighbors.

  Gwen picked up the picture of the then eighteen-year-old Dawson Bartlett. A news photographer had taken it as Bartlett left the police station the day she had brought him in for questioning. In it he wore a white ball cap and had looked directly at the camera.

  A spike a familiarity hit Gwen. She looked to his right hip and there it was. A chain dangled from his belt loop to his rear pocket. He carried the same kind of wallet as their robber.

  Gwen ran into the kitchen and grabbed a black marker from her junk drawer. Back in the living room, she sat cross-legged in front of the coffee table and carefully colored the white hat black and drew a bandana over his nose and mouth. Gwen then opened her laptop and pulled up the video from the last robbery and paused it. Putting the photo side by side with the screen, her eyes darted back and forth. There was definitely a resemblance. The unsub in all the robberies was over six feet with a medium build and dark hair. Bartlett was six-three, one-eighty, and had brown hair and eyes.

  She thought back to the latest robbery. Mrs. Gyman had also been shot three times. The first, a chest wound, would have easily killed her. Just like Bartlett's mother and sister. Was he their cold-blooded killer?

  Gwen took her cell phone from her back pocket and dialed Kris's number. She answered after the third ring. "I need to talk to you and it can't wait until morning."

  "Can it at least wait twenty minutes? I'm putting the kids to bed."

  "Okay. I'll see you in twenty."

  Gwen fed Lizzie, then gathered her laptop and the photograph of Bartlett.

  *****

  Eric Todd greeted Gwen with a smile. "Do you ever sleep?"

  "Hey, Eric. Sorry I'm dropping by so late."

  "Don't worry about it, we're used to it. She's in the kitchen."

  "Thanks. What do you think of those Cardinals?"

  "They suck."

  Laughing, Gwen went into the kitchen. Kris stood at the sink doing the dishes. Gwen set the laptop and photo down on the table.

  "Aunt Gwen." Madison and her brother ran into the room and gave Gwen a hug. At eight years old, Madison looked just like her mom, whereas Austin, four years older with broad shoulders and dark blond hair, favored his dad.

  "Seems like you guys grow a foot every time I see you."

  "Four more inches and I'll be as tall as Mom." Austin puffed his chest out as he stood next to Kris.

  "All right you two, get back in bed."

  "See ya, Gwen."

  "Night, Austin. Madison."

  Kris shut off the faucet and turned to Gwen. "Have you eaten? There's leftovers if you want some."

  "No thanks. I already ate."

  Kris dried her hands. "So what's so important it couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

  "I think I have a suspect in our liquor store robberies."

  "Really? Who?" Kris leaned against the counter.

  "Bear with me, okay." Gwen opened her laptop and turned it on. She then brought up the video from Gyman's Liquor Store and held the altered photo of Dawson Bartlett next to it. "See a resemblance?"

  "Some. Who is that?"

  "Dawson Bartlett."

  "Oh no." Kris rubbed her forehead. "Gwen, when are you—"

  "Please. Just hear me out."

  Kris sat down at the kitchen table, folding her arms.

  "Okay, think about it, Kris. There was no hesitation when he shot the vic. Meaning he's probably killed before. Mrs. Gyman was shot three times, just like Bartlett's mother and sister. Bartlett also fits the physical description of the robber." She pointed to the chain on his hip. "And he carries the same kind of wallet."

  "You yourself said they're a dime a dozen, Gwen. You can get them at any retail store."

  "True, but you have to admit, add everything together and it's at least a possibility."

  Kris bit down on her lower lip, considering Gwen's theory. "Why would Dawson Bartlett be robbing liquor stores? He got over a million dollars from his parents and sister's insurance policies."

  "Maybe he blew through it. It's been three years." Gwen pulled out a chair and sat down. "All I'm saying is it wouldn't hurt to take a look at him."

  "Gwen, the last time we went down this road his attorney threatened you with an injunction."

  "We don't have to be so obvious. He'd be a senior now. We'll just take a trip up to the college and have a discreet talk with some of his classmates. See what he's been up to."

  Kris continued to look at the photograph and video but said nothing.

  "I'll even let you drive. Come on, Kris, my gut is telling me he's our guy."

  "Well your gut landed us in deep trouble the last time we went after him."

  "Just because we can't prove he killed his family, doesn't mean he didn't do it."

  "Fine. I'll give you one day. If you'll promise me that if we don't find anything, you'll drop it and leave the poor kid alone."

  "I promise."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Gwen arrived to work early on Thursday and waited in her SUV. Several minutes later, a red truck pulled into the garage and parked two spaces down from her. As soon as Nick got out, she grabbed her purse and ran after him. "Nick, wait up."

  He whirled around. "Geez, Jamison, you scared the bejeebies out of me."

  "Sorry."

  Nick started walking toward the elevator. "Hey, about last night. I didn't mean to get you riled up about the Bartlett case."

  "That's all right, don't worry about it." If he hadn't Ian wouldn't have offered to look at the file and she wouldn't have come across Bartlett's photo. "I need a huge favor from you."

  "What kind of favor?"

  She grabbed his arm and pulled him in between two cars. "Will you sign me and Kris in and cover for us until this afternoon. We need to drive to Phoenix and I'd rather no one knows."

  "Is it work related?"

  "Of course it is. I need to check out some things for one of my cases."

  His eyes narrowed. "Why all the secrecy?"

  "I don't want to get into it right now. I'll tell you later. So will you do it?"

  "Sure. If anyone asks, I'll tell um you're running down a new lead on your robbery case."

  "Thanks, Nick. I appreciate it."

  A horn blast drew both their attentions. "That's Kris. I've gotta go. Remember, don't say anything to anyone."

  "You guys be careful."

  "You too." Gwen ran over to Kris's silver minivan and climbed into the passenger seat. "Morning."

  "So is Nick gonna cover for us?"

  "Yeah, until this afternoon."

  Kris backed into an empty parking slot then hesitated. "I don't feel right about this, Gwen. What if the lieutenant finds out?"

  "I promise I'll take full responsibility. Besides, he offered to look at the file. That's how I happened onto the photo."

  "And just when did he make this offer?" Kris asked as she drove out of the garage.

  "Last night." Gwen quickly filled her in on the evening's events, leaving out the personal information Ian had shared.

  "Sounds like you had a good time."r />
  "I did. The lieutenant seems like a great guy."

  Kris glanced over.

  "What?"

  "Nothing."

  *****

  Gwen and Kris left the University of AZ-Phoenix Campus where they had learned Bartlett dropped out of college sixteen months ago. Their next stop was the Jasper Rose Café where, after a DMV search and a couple of phone calls, they were told Craig Eaton worked. Gwen had talked to Eaton a couple of times during her investigation of Bartlett. The two had been friends and had roomed together in one of the dorms before Bartlett moved off campus a few months prior to the murders.

  "Wonder why he quit?" Kris asked on the way to the car.

  "If you had over a million bucks, would you bother finishing college?"

  "Yes. If I had that much money, I'd want to put it into low risk investments, CD's, and municipal bonds."

  "Not everyone is as cautious as you. He's barely an adult. My guess is he couldn't afford the tuition because he blew the money."

  Kris unlocked the car and got behind the wheel. "I sure hope this café serves more than coffee. I'm famished."

  "Me too."

  The smell of grilled onions greeted them as they walked into the small diner a couple of blocks off campus. Choosing the only booth left, Gwen slid in one side and glanced around the café. Most of the waiters and waitresses were college age. The only one who wasn't, a mid-thirties platinum blond, greeted them with a smile as she handed them menus.

  "What can I get you to drink, ladies?"

  "Iced tea with lemon please…" Gwen glanced at her nametag "…Sandy."

  "Ice water for me, and some information, please. We're looking for Craig Eaton. We were told he's working today."

  "Sure, I'll send him over."

  Gwen glanced over the selection of sandwiches, surprised by the reasonable prices. No wonder the place was packed.

  A dark-haired kid with peach fuzz growing on his upper lip strolled over. "Sandy said you wanted to see me."

  Gwen removed her badge from her back pocket and showed it to him. "You may not remember me, but I talked to you three years ago after the family of Dawson Bartlett was murdered."