Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 02 - Secrets to Die For (21 page)

When Jasmine slid onto the seat next to her, smelling like jasmine and looking sleek and sexy, Sophie had a pang of regret that they were only friends.

“Hey. You look great.”

“Thanks.” Jasmine gave her a bright smile. “It’s the yoga. Seriously, you should try it.”

Sophie laughed. “I’m more of a climbing wall type.”

“I know. It’s okay to slow down sometimes.”

“No thanks. This energy has to go somewhere.”

Jasmine ordered a glass of wine. Sophie asked, “Is everything all right with you?” She was anxious to get the social chitchat out of the way so she could hear Jasmine’s scoop.

“I’m doing well. I’m dating a scientist who keeps me on my toes intellectually. I like it.”

“I’m happy for you. “

After an awkward silence, Sophie blurted out, “Tell me about this case. I have to know.”

“You know I have to be careful. I don’t want to jeopardize the investigation. Or compromise myself and lose my job.”

“I know.”

Jasmine leaned over and kept her voice low. “The suspect is a guy named Bruce Gorman. He claims he found Raina dead on his property.”

“What was she doing there?” Sophie jotted down the name.

“I’m not clear about that. I only hear bits and pieces. But it has something to do with Gorman’s kid.”

“That’s weird. Do they believe him? Do they think he’s the serial rapist?”

Jasmine shrugged her slim, bare shoulders. “I don’t know. I sent Gorman’s DNA to be compared to the semen from the rape cases but the results aren’t back yet.”

“What’s your gut instinct?”

“The guy’s a creep.”

“You met him?”

“Gorman was there when we searched his property. Detective Jackson wanted him to show exactly where he found the body.”

Sophie was confused. “Why would he admit to finding the body? I mean, if he killed Raina.”

“Because they found his hair in her car.”

“No kidding? This is messy.” Sophie scribbled notes as fast as she could.

“There’s more.”

Sophie waited, not wanting to play into the drama.

“Gorman’s dog had a human bone in his mouth.”

“Holy shit!” Sophie glanced around. She’d been too loud, but no one was glaring at her. “Is Gorman a serial killer?”

Jasmine squeezed her arm. “You absolutely cannot write about this yet. But it could turn out to be a big story.”

“No kidding. Do you know anything about the bone?”

“I’m sure it’s from a child. I sent a sample to the state lab to see if we could find a DNA match with the missing persons database.” Jasmine squeezed her arm again. “The bone may not be connected to Raina or Gorman, so you can’t associate it with this case. If you do, they’ll know it was me who told you.”

“Okay. But I think I’ll do a records check of Gorman’s property. Can you get me the address?”

“It’s on Pine Grove, not too far from my house actually.” Jasmine pulled a notepad from her purse and looked for the address. “It’s 28494 Pine Grove.”

Sophie sipped her brew and decided she would head into the county records department first thing in the morning. She visualized the gray-brick building right next to the old federal courthouse and suddenly remembered Raina’s vigil. “I have to go. Raina’s candlelight vigil is starting in a few minutes.”

“I’ll walk over with you.”

Katie showed up just after five. “Thanks for being on time.” Jackson was careful in his praise. Too much and it annoyed her.

“That’s me. Dependable as clockwork.”

Jackson gave his daughter a quick hug. “Let’s get going on dinner. I have to go out in a while to attend a candlelight vigil.”

“You’re serious?” Katie gave him a look. “For who?”

“A murder victim.”

“Did you know her?”

“I’m getting to know her now. But I’m attending the vigil to get a good look at the men in the crowd.”

“I want to go with you. I’ve never been to a candlelight vigil.”

“I’d like to take you. But if I decide to question or follow someone, your presence will be a problem.”

“Okay.”

They grilled teriyaki chicken on the back deck despite the cold and the warnings about the dangers of cooking meat at high temperatures. He and Katie both loved grilled anything. Jackson threw on some zucchini to make the vegetable police happy. Katie made a face. He was not a good cook, but he was trying to be a good father and have dinner with his daughter as consistently as possible.

About two hundred women gathered downtown in front of the old federal courthouse on the corner of Oak and 8th. In Eugene, if you held any kind of rally, this was the spot. For large gatherings, the police diverted traffic, but tonight the crowd barely spilled onto the sidewalks. Snow caps and scarves were the norm, although the mass of dark silhouettes still hunched against the cold. Everyone carried candles, although they had not yet been lit.

Jackson moved slowly through the dense crowd, catching only a few surprised looks. A first, he spotted only one other male. He was young, and Jackson suspected he was there with his mother. He watched as the middle-aged woman next to the teenager leaned over and whispered a comment. Another woman moved to the top of the steps and began to speak. She had no microphone, but her powerful voice carried across the quiet crowd.

“We are gathered tonight to honor the life of Raina Hughes…”

Jackson kept moving, giving everyone a quick once over. It was not easy picking men out of the crowd. Many of the women had short hair, and everyone was dressed in long pants, jackets, and warm head coverings. He soon spotted a second male in the middle of the gathering. Jackson guessed his age to be about fifty, too old for the perp’s profile. The man seemed to have a little more space around him than others in the crowd. Was he here alone? Jackson memorized his face, then moved on.

A moment later, someone caught his arm. He turned to see a thirty-something woman with short black hair and glasses. “Hello, Mr. Jackson.”

Jackson realized it was Katie’s math teacher. He’d had a parent-teacher conference with her last month. What was her name? Ginger something. “Hello, Ginger.” He would have preferred to be more formal, but he still couldn’t come up with a last name.

“Did you know Raina?”

Jackson kept his voice low. “I’m investigating her murder.”

“Of course,” she whispered back. “It’s still funny that we should both be here.”

Was she a lesbian? Jackson wondered. Not that it made any difference. “Happens all the time,” he said. “In many ways, Eugene is still a small town.”

“Yes it is. I’ll let you get back to…investigating.”

They both moved off, and Jackson found himself looking more closely at the women’s faces. Who else did he know in this crowd?

Suddenly, the night brightened with the glow of hundreds of candles. Jackson held his place for a long moment, transfixed by the flickering light and powerful silence. In that moment, the collective grief overwhelmed him. He felt again the devastating loss of his parents, the long-ago loss of his little brother, and society’s loss of a fine young woman. Sooner or later everyone died, but that didn’t make it any less depressing. For a long moment he couldn’t move, paralyzed with grief.

The person next to him touched his arm, a gentle sympathetic squeeze. Jackson nodded at the young woman, then forced himself to move on and scan more faces. He was looking for a man in his mid twenties or early thirties, someone who didn’t belong here.

Jackson moved toward the back of the crowd near the main street. In a few steps, he came face to face with a male in his early twenties. Tears streaked the ponytailed man’s face. Jackson stepped in close and said, “I’m a police detective. What’s your name?”

“Paul Phillips.” He answered without hesitation and seemed more confused than alarmed. Jackson noted that this name was not on his list of seven suspects.

“Why are you here?”

“Raina was my good friend.”

“How do you know her?” They were both whispering out of deference to the ceremony, so Jackson took Phillip’s arm and steered him away from the crowd.

“We went to high school together. Why are you asking all this?”

“I’m investigating her death.”

“Do you have any leads?” Phillips lips quivered.

“I can’t say. Did you know Raina was gay?”

“Of course.”

“Do you know Jamie Conner?”

“Yes. She’s a good friend too. She was staying at my house.”

“Why isn’t she here with you?”

“Jamie went back to her parents, and they probably wouldn’t let her come. It wouldn’t look right to their church.” The young man rolled his eyes.

“Do you know where Raina got the Vicodin she was taking?”

“What are you taking about?” Phillips seemed alarmed.

“Raina’s drug use. Someone had to know.”

Phillips shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Raina hated drugs.”

Not all drugs, Jackson thought. “Did you ever notice anyone lurking around Raina? Or did she ever mention being followed?”

“No.” Phillips shoved his hands in his pockets. “Can we do this later? I came here to honor Raina.”

“Thanks for your time.” Jackson stepped away. Phillips was just a grieving friend.

A hoarse shout shattered the silence. “Go home, dykes! No one wants you here.” The young man was on the sidewalk only ten feet away. Instinctively, Jackson moved toward him. Again, the man shouted, “Fucking dykes!”

A short, stout woman in the back of the crowd rushed the man and knocked him down. Another woman followed. Jackson sprinted the few steps and pulled the short woman off the heckler just as she was swinging her arm back to deliver another blow.

“Back off, I’ve got him.” Jackson grabbed cuffs out of his jacket pocket. He’d been prepared to arrest a suspect. To the heckler he said, “Roll over so I can cuff you, or I’ll let this crowd take you apart.”

The blond man laughed, then rolled over. Jackson wondered if he would match his list.

Ryan waited in the parking lot across the street from the library, wanting to go in. He loved the look of the building, with its red brick and glass windows in front. He longed to see the children’s section with all the colorful picture books. His real mother had taken him to the old library when he was a kid, but he hadn’t picked up a storybook since she bailed out all those years ago.

Ryan took a short walk instead. He liked this part of downtown because it was an odd mix. In the summer, there were colorful flowers everywhere, hanging in baskets from every streetlight and bursting out of giant concrete planters. The city bus station across from the library was also new and still clean and shiny. Both properties were surrounded by misfits—young, scruffy people with nowhere to go, hanging out to meet up with others who had nowhere to go.

In a moment, a young girl approached him and said, “Want to buy some weed?”

Ryan shook his head and turned back. He definitely wanted to stay sharp.

Waiting for Jamie at the library wasn’t really necessary. He knew Jamie would take the kid back to her house around five. He could have met up with her there, but this was too important and he didn’t have anywhere else to be.

When Jamie took Brianna home, the girl’s foster mother asked her to watch all the kids for ‘ten minutes while she ran to the store for cigarettes’. Jamie couldn’t say no; Tiffany would have just left them alone anyway. Ten minutes turned into thirty minutes. What the heck was she doing? Finally, Tiffany returned with some lame excuse and Jamie was able to leave. In the car, her stomach growled, reminding her to get some cash so she could grab something to eat before Raina’s vigil.