Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 02 - Secrets to Die For (20 page)

Jamie gave a little laugh. What lifestyle? The only thing that made her life any different from any other young women was that the one person she had kissed passionately also happened to be a woman.

Paul stepped into the kitchen, eyes swollen with sleep. “What’s funny?”

“Not a darn thing. I’m just cracking up. You know, as in losing it.” Jamie showed him the story.

As Paul scanned through the text, he said, “You’re worried your parents will see this and think you’re gay.”

“Yep.”

“Jamie.” Paul grabbed both her hands. “Your parents probably already know you’re gay. They just don’t talk about it, because that would make it real.”

“No.” Jamie shook him off. “If they knew, they would disown me.” She pointed to the last paragraph. “We should go to the candlelight vigil for Raina.”

“Of course.” Paul was quiet for a moment as he fought back tears. Jamie grabbed the classifieds and walked away. If Paul started to cry, she would cry too. And she had to stop crying and start living.

Sophie sat down at her computer desk, grateful again for a view of the river. Where else in the world could you rent an
affordable
riverside apartment with a walking/biking path ten feet from your door? She loved Eugene!

She checked her work e-mail and discovered responses to her story were still pouring in. Many of her friends had contacted her this afternoon and so had dozens of newspaper readers. Most of the correspondence was supportive, but she was shocked by the vitriol in a few of the e-mails.

People were reading and responding and that was the point. She had connected with readers today. The newspaper had been steadily losing subscribers for the last six years. Last year’s redesign hadn’t helped much. Passionate, human interest stories were what readers wanted.

Her cell phone rang, and the caller ID said
Ashley McCormick
. “Sophie, it’s Ashley. You need to turn on the radio right now.”

Sophie’s gut tightened. “Am I going to like this?” Ashley hadn’t called in months, so it must be big.

“Yes and no.”

Sophie moved quickly to her sound center. “Which station?”

“It’s KQRN, 92.5. It’s syndicated out of KKNW in Phoenix.”

The radio host was not blessed with a pleasant voice. At the moment, he was mocking Sophie’s story.

Comparing homosexuality to left
-
handedness is like comparing morbid obesity to Down syndrome and saying they are equal diseases
.
Obesity is a lifestyle disease
,
a choice people make every day
,
and the consequences are often deadly
.
Homosexuality is also a lifestyle choice often with deadly consequences
.
If those women hadn’t flaunted their lesbianism
,
they wouldn’t have been singled out and attacked
.
This is the problem with the homosexual agenda
;
it’s so in your face
…

Sophie didn’t hear the rest. Her thoughts were too scattered, too distressed.

“Sophie, are you there?” She’d forgotten Ashley was on the phone.

“I can’t believe he just said that.”

“Earlier, he called you an agent of misinformation.”

“You said this was a syndicated radio show?”

“With millions of listeners.”

“Oh crap. I gotta go. Thanks, Ash.”

Sophie clicked off her phone, turned off the radio, and sat down with her head in her hands. Her story had been seen by thousands of readers. The radio host’s response was being heard by millions. Had she done more harm than good?

Ryan scrunched low in the seat, listening to the radio as he watched and waited. The sound of Bob Dieback’s voice always made him miss his dad. He and the old man used to listen to Bob’s show together, especially near the end, when his dad was too sick to do anything else. Watching his big brute of a father shrivel into a bag of bones had made Ryan feel sick, like watching Superman fall into a vat of kryptonite. Ryan wished he had run from the whole thing like his instincts told him to, but Dad had no one else to look after him. His brother hadn’t come around enough to be any real help.

Ryan shook off the memory and tuned back into Bob Dieback’s voice. The man wasn’t afraid to say what was on his mind. Ryan didn’t really understand what Bob had meant about the diseases, but that didn’t matter. Bob understood that lesbos deserved what they got. They were
in your face
about their perversion. Kissing in public. Marching in parades. Disgusting.

After the talk show was over, Ryan got a case of the jitters. He drove the van around the block and parked on a side street. If he sat for too long in one spot, someone might get suspicious. Another hour passed. Finally, Jamie came out. Alone this time. Thank God. Ryan resisted the urge to sit up and stare. He watched, peering over the dashboard, as Jamie climbed into her Toyota. She was so beautiful with the sunlight bouncing off her blond hair and white teeth. A goddess. Soon to be his goddess.

Ryan waited until her car was moving down the street before starting the van. Jamie had her travel bag with her and that worried him a little. This was Sunday, the day she spent her afternoons with the little girl. He had counted on that pattern for his plan to work. What if she went home instead? Did he have the nerve to take Jamie from her bedroom in her sleep? He knew he could get into the house; he had done it once already. Jamie hadn’t even blinked a pretty eye. He watched her for a full five minutes, overjoyed just to be that close to her. A quick zap with the Taser, and it would be like carrying a big sleeping kid out to the car. No, her father was in the house, and Ted Conner made him nervous.

Ryan didn’t think he could wait another week for the perfect opportunity.

Searching the CODIS database for someone with a record of trespassing, sexual assault, and/or assault and battery was like searching a romance novel convention for a woman. Jackson thought it would have been easier to find the few criminals on file who had not committed any of those crimes. Narrowing the age group didn’t help much. Even limiting the search to the Eugene/Springfield area produced seventy-one names.

It was a start. Page by page, he scanned each of the files, looking for a connection to Lane Community College, criminal charges for hate crimes, or homophobic expressions of any kind. After three hours, he’d narrowed the list to seven suspects, five of whom were still on probation. They would start with these seven, then gradually expand the list until they had looked at all seventy-one men—if they had to.

Jackson checked the corner of his computer: 4:45 p.m. Where was Katie? She should have been back from Adam’s by now. Had he given her a time to come home? No, he’d forgotten. That was foolish. He’d been thinking about this case and feeling relieved she was leaving so he could work at home without guilt. Jackson decided to give Katie a little time. He started a list of things do for the morning. His first stop would be the county parole and probation office.

As Jamie drove toward central Eugene, she had second thoughts about taking Brianna to the park. The sky had filled with clouds and it threatened to rain. Maybe they would go to the library. Brianna loved the new Eugene library with its grand circular staircase and sunlit interior. Jamie usually got a kick out of looking at all the children’s books too. It might cheer her up.

She turned on 28th and thought about the little market on the next corner, where she always stopped and picked up a soda for herself and a box of Cracker Jacks for Brianna. The girl loved candied popcorn, but her foster mother never bought it for her. Jamie pulled into the side lot and parked her car under the big tree that towered over the back of the store from the vacant property next door. She always parked here, just as she always parked in the same area when she went to the mall or the grocery store. It helped her find her car. There were so many blue Toyotas in Eugene. Jamie laughed. Not that it mattered in this small parking lot, but she liked consistency anyway.

As she reached to shut off the engine, Jamie remembered she didn’t have any cash on her. Her whole life had been thrown off course by Raina’s death, and she hadn’t been to a bank or store in days. She wasn’t going to put a three-dollar purchase on her father’s credit card. That was not what it was for, her dad had cautioned, and she didn’t want to lose the privilege of carrying the emergency card. Jamie put the Toyota in reverse and backed out, nearly colliding with a van that was pulling in next to her. Yikes! She slammed on the brakes, gave the driver a friendly wave, and waited for him to park.

Moving a little more cautiously, Jamie headed back onto the road. Brianna would be disappointed but would quickly forget about the popcorn when she heard they were going to the library. Jamie reminded herself to stop at an ATM later to get cash. She needed to buy a black dress for Raina’s funeral.

Fuck! Ryan cursed so loudly, he worried Jamie might have heard him as she drove away. What had happened? Jamie always stopped at the little store and then sat in her car for a minute getting her money out. This was supposed to be his opportunity. The overhanging tree, the fence, and the windowless side of the store created a little pocket of low visibility. Jamie’s delay in getting out of the car was supposed to give him time to climb in the back of the van, open the side door a little, and be ready, Taser in hand, for when she got out of her car.

She had driven off instead. Fuck! Had she seen him following her and been spooked?
Of course not
,
idiot
. She’d waved at him. Ryan took a deep breath and backed out. He would make a new plan and it would be okay. First, he had to catch up with Jamie. She was not being as predictable today, so he’d have to stay with her very closely and wait for another opportunity. But he didn’t plan to wait long. He had needs.

Sophie had her camera and recorder sitting on the kitchen table, even though the candlelight vigil was not until seven o’clock. She didn’t expect to come away with anything but photos, but she preferred to be prepared. Would the murderer attend Raina’s vigil? She had the idea that sometimes killers attended their victims’ funerals.

Sophie checked her e-mail again, then called Jasmine Parker’s cell phone. Was Jasmine working this weekend? It was better not to call her at the lab, but Sophie was feeling anxious.

“Hey, Sophie. What’s up?” Jasmine didn’t sound like she was at work.

“Are you going to Raina Hughes’ vigil?”

“I don’t know. I should, but I really don’t care for large public gatherings.”

That was why their brief relationship had gone nowhere. Jasmine was too serious and too much of a homebody. Sophie loved gatherings of any kind and drew energy from being around people. “Did you see my story this morning?”

“Of course. It was great. You’re a talented writer, Sophie.”

“Thanks. I still don’t have any real details about these crimes though. Do you have any new leads you can share with me?”

There was a pause. Sophie could almost hear Jasmine calculating how much she could tell her. How much Sophie would owe her. Finally Jasmine said, “They have a suspect in custody for Raina’s murder.”

“No shit?” Sophie’s left brain kicked into overdrive. “Who is he? Do they think he committed the other rapes?”

“I don’t really know much. Let’s meet for a drink and I’ll tell you what I can.”

Sophie had prepared for this. “Okay, but it’s just a drink between friends.”

“I know. I know.” Jasmine sounded amused, and Sophie took it as a good sign.

“Steelhead at six o’clock.”

“See you there.”

Sophie paced around the house, overwatering her plants and straightening things that didn’t need straightening. She tried to eat a light meal, but her stomach said no thanks. She decided to visit Amy Hastings’ ex-roommate/lover. So far, Sophie knew nothing about Amy, and it had become clear Amy wouldn’t call her back.

Ten minutes later she parked in front of the residence where Amy used to live. The old house in the university neighborhood was quiet, with no lights on. Sophie knew in a moment that no one was home. She got out and knocked on the door anyway. She would come back early tomorrow morning. Sophie headed downtown to the Steelhead to wait for Jasmine.

The Steelhead was noisy and cavernous, but it had a great selection of its own microbrews. When she came for dinner, Sophie loved to sit in the old-fashioned high-back chairs. Tonight she took a seat at the bar. She ordered a First Date Stout and sipped it while she waited.