Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 03 - Thrilled to Death (2 page)

Her tone made him squeal the tires a little as he pulled into the street. He’d only known Kera for eight months, but he was crazy about her in a way he’d never experienced before. Or maybe he’d once felt this way about his ex-wife, before she started drinking, but he didn’t remember it. His reality now was that he never had enough time with Kera and he had to find a way to change that.

The trip to Kera’s took ten minutes. Eugene, Oregon was a small college city and you could get from point A to point B in twenty-five minutes or less, even on a bicycle. Being a police officer who had lived here his whole life, it often took him less.

Kera answered the door with a bundle of baby on her shoulder. She was tall, striking, and moved like an athlete. Jackson felt a little giddy every time he saw her. Kera gave him a forced smile. “I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“What’s going on?” Jackson felt a stab of worry. Kera was more upset than he’d realized. He kissed her forehead. “Let’s go sit down.”

Jackson followed Kera into the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of water and eased down to the table without jostling the baby. “Danette was supposed to pick up Micah two hours ago,” Kera reported. “She had an appointment with a doctor, but she hasn’t come back and she doesn’t answer her phone.”

Jackson gave her a gentle smile. “It’s too soon to worry.” He didn’t want to dismiss her fears, just ease them. “Anything could have happened. A flat tire, a change of plans. Or maybe Danette ran into a friend and started talking.”

“Why wouldn’t she call or answer her phone?”

“Maybe she left her cell phone at the doctor’s or in her car.” Jackson poured himself some coffee. “You want some?”

Kera shook her head.

“We can try calling places where she might be.”

“I already did.” Kera pressed her lips together and looked as if she might cry. “Something is wrong. I just know it. Either something dreadful happened to Danette or she has abandoned her baby.”

“What makes you think she might abandon Micah?”

“The doctor she saw this morning, Stella Callahan, is a psychiatrist. I know Danette has been depressed.” Kera patted the baby’s back as she talked. “Sometimes new mothers experience emotional and hormonal upheaval after the birth of a child, and they feel and act irrational. For some it’s just post-partum depression; for others it goes way beyond.”

Jackson reached for the little blue-eyed bundle. The boy smiled and Jackson felt a warm hand touch his heart.
Who could ditch this little guy?
“Have you called the hospitals?”

“Yes. I’m sorry to burden you with this.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad for something to focus on. Sergeant Lammers keeps giving me little bullshit cases.”

“Oh, that’s right. You had another doctor’s appointment. What did he say?”

“He said I’m constipated.”

Kera rolled her eyes. “Murtz is a moron. You need to go to the hospital and get a CAT scan or an MRI. The doctors in the ER will be able to diagnose this thing, which could be some kind of abnormal growth.”

Jackson knew what she meant. “Next time the pain gets bad, I will.”

“Promise me?”

“I will.” Jackson stood. “I need two addresses: Danette’s and the doctor she went to see. After I check out Danette’s apartment, I’ll drive over to the psychiatrist’s and see if Danette kept her appointment or left her cell phone there. It makes sense for you to wait here in case she shows up.”

As Jackson headed down Chambers, he called Sergeant Lammers and left her a message, telling her he was looking into a possible missing person situation and would be in to the department later. The assault case he’d been assigned last week was going nowhere. Jackson had visited the woman in the hospital and she’d denied her boyfriend had attacked her. There was no point in looking for the ‘dark-haired man with a tattoo’ she claimed had barged into her home and beaten her for no apparent reason. He didn’t exist. Jackson worried that her boyfriend would eventually kill Cheri, but then, at least he would be able to build a case against him.

The duplex where Danette lived, courtesy of taxpayer funded Section-8 housing, was just off River Road and Sunny Street. The low-rent cul-de-sac housed a group of duplexes, each a little shabbier than the next. Two little girls rode tricycles in the asphalt center area. No parents seemed to be watching them. Danette’s side of the building was dark and her car was not in the driveway. Jackson pounded on the door anyway. After a few minutes, he checked the knob, but it was locked. Out of thoroughness, he checked the side door under the carport and found it locked too. If this were a homicide investigation, he would pound on the neighbors’ doors as well, but it was too early to assume Danette was missing. Jackson expected Kera to call any minute and tell him the young mother had turned up with some lame excuse for her behavior. He’d heard it all.

As he turned around, a woman stepped out of the home across the way and watched him until he got into the Impala. Jackson was glad someone was paying attention to the stranger in close proximity to the little girls. He would talk to that neighbor first if he had to come back.

It was a quick drive to the psychiatrist’s office on Lincoln Street, on the edge of the downtown area. The small, two-story cinderblock building had a parking area in the back and was surrounded by residential homes. Jackson scanned the lot, but didn’t see Danette’s blue Toyota Corolla. It seemed unlikely she would still be here or that she would leave her car. He moved past the insurance agency on the first floor and slowly took the stairs to the offices on the second floor. The pain in his gut had receded to a dull background noise and he wanted to keep it that way.

The shrink’s office was at the end of the hallway. The door opened into a small lobby. A moment later, a voice came over an intercom: “This is Dr. Callahan. I’ll be out to see you in ten minutes.” He glanced up at the corner nearest the inner door and found the camera. Interesting set up, he thought. Certainly cheaper than paying a receptionist to read magazines all day. While he waited, he brainstormed his next moves. First, he would issue an attempt-to-locate on the Toyota, then he would go back to Danette’s apartment and let himself in to look around.

At five minutes to one, a middle-aged man emerged from the inner office, glanced at Jackson, then scurried into the hall. The doctor appeared moments later. She did not approach him or offer her hand. “I’m Dr. Callahan. How can I help you?” She had a big face with a square jaw and was a little thick in the middle. The doctor still managed to be attractive.

“I’m Detective Wade Jackson. I’d like to ask you about Danette Blake.” Jackson stood to be on her level. “I know about doctor-client confidentiality, but Danette seems to be unaccounted for at the moment and her mother-in-law is very worried. I’m hoping you’ll humor me and answer a few questions.”

Callahan’s jaw tightened. “Unlikely. I won’t discuss Danette’s sessions or her treatment.”

“For now, I just need to know if she kept her appointment this morning.”

“She did.”

“When was she here?”

“From 9:00 to 9:55.”

“Did she say anything about where she was going when she left?”

“I couldn’t tell you if she did.”

“Danette is not answering her cell phone. Did she leave it here?”

A flicker of fear shot through Callahan’s eyes. “Where is her baby?”

“Micah is with Kera, his grandmother.” Jackson stepped toward the doctor. “Can we sit down and talk for a moment?”

She didn’t budge. “I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Why are you worried about the baby?”

“I’m not.”

“Will you check your office for Danette’s phone?”

“Sure.” Callahan pivoted and strode back through the door.

Jackson followed closely so she couldn’t shut him out. Once inside, Callahan gave a cursory look around the small plush office. “It’s not here.”

The room held two pieces of padded furniture where a patient might get comfortable. He checked the chair and the couch, running his hands along the seams to see if the phone had slipped out of sight. No luck.

“Satisfied?”

He scanned the floor and turned to Callahan, who stood with arms folded across her chest. “If Danette contacts you for any reason, please call me.” Jackson handed her a business card. “I don’t want to waste the department’s time and resources looking for someone who isn’t missing or doesn’t want to be found.”

“Fair enough.”

“Would Danette abandon her baby?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“Thanks for your time.”

Jackson gave another glance around the office but didn’t see a young woman’s coat or purse. He called Kera as he took the stairs down.

She was slow to answer. “What did you find out?”

“Danette had a session with the doctor, but she didn’t leave her cell phone. Her car isn’t in the parking lot, so I assume she drove away. Sorry, that’s all I know so far.” Jackson stopped in front of the insurance office. “What was Danette wearing when she dropped off Micah?”

“Faded blue jeans, a short-sleeve pink sweater, and a navy blue zip-front sweatshirt with a hood. Why are you asking? Should I be worried?”

“I’m just gathering information that may be useful. Are you doing okay?”

“Yes and no. If she would only call. Even if she’s not coming back. I just need to know.”

“Try not to focus on it.” Jackson was trying to be more empathetic. The females in his life had requested it. “I’ll call the department and issue an attempt-to-locate. If we have every officer in town looking for her car or someone matching her description, we should find her soon.”

“Thanks, Jackson. Call me if you learn anything at all.”

When they first got together, Kera had called him Wade, even though no one else did. He missed that. Still standing in the building’s lobby, Jackson called the department and gave the desk officer the information.

“Is this a new missing persons case?”

“Not officially yet. She’s a friend of the family.”

“How old is Danette?”

“Twenty.”

The desk officer hesitated. “Unless you have reason to believe she’s in danger, the attempt-to-locate isn’t exactly protocol for someone that age.”

“Humor me, please. My gut feeling is that this might be serious.” Jackson’s intestines were relatively quiet at the moment, but it wouldn’t last. He hung up and walked into the insurance office. A thirty-something woman at the front desk looked up. “Welcome to Barnell’s Insurance. How can I help meet your insurance needs today?”

Jackson wondered how many times a day the poor woman had to say that. He introduced himself. “I’m looking for a young woman who was in the building this morning. She’s five-eight, dark haired, brown skinned, and wearing jeans and a dark blue zip-up sweatshirt. Have you seen her?”

The receptionist shook her head. “Not this morning. I’ve been busy, so I haven’t spent much time looking into the lobby.”

“Had you seen her before today?”

“I saw her last week. She was headed upstairs.” The woman flushed a little, looking sheepish. “I try not to pay attention to the psychiatrist’s patients out of respect for their privacy.”

“Did you notice anything unusual about this woman or her behavior?”

She thought for a moment. “I remember thinking she wasn’t typical of Dr. Callahan’s patients. Most of them are middle-aged, well off, and white. I think that’s why I noticed this young woman. Or maybe it was the creepy guy with her.”

Jackson felt a little shimmer up his spine. “Describe him.”

“Tall, six foot or more, dark hair pulled back into a short ponytail, dark clothes, and a little patch of facial hair.” She pointed to the middle of her chin.

“He went with her upstairs?”

“No. He came into the lobby, then went back outside.”

Jackson handed her a card. “If you think of anything, let me know.”

In the parking lot, Jackson glanced around. A dark green Scion and a maroon minivan were still in the far corner—probably employees—and a white midsize truck had pulled in while he was in the building. Still no blue Toyota. Jackson climbed into his Impala and sat for a moment, thinking.
Where would I go if I were twenty and had a chance to escape my responsibilities? Even for a few hours?

The mall, of course. Valley River Center, with its clothing shops, jewelry stores, and seven-plex movie theater. Jackson called information and chose to be connected to the mall’s business center. From there, he asked for the security department, described Danette, and asked them to watch for her.

“Is she dangerous?”

“No.”

“I’ll get word to the uniforms out there.”

Jackson made a similar call to the Gateway mall in Springfield, Eugene’s adjoining sister city, then headed back to Danette’s apartment. Driving out River Road, the April sun heated up the car, so he rolled down the window. The fresh air felt great. Eugene in the springtime was a glorious place. The sky was often brilliant blue, the green canopy was back on the trees, and purple Azaleas bloomed everywhere. He hoped the weather would hold until Saturday and that Saturday would still be a day off when it rolled around. Maybe he and Kera and Katie would hike up Spencer Butte and have a picnic.

He thought about calling Kera, but he had nothing new to report. He didn’t want to hear the worry and disappointment in her voice. It was way too soon in their relationship to disappoint her. That would come in time. Right now, he wanted to be her knight-in-shining-armor, to come to her rescue again. Just as he had when the crazy lady had poisoned Kera because she worked at Planned Parenthood. They’d met during that bizarre case last fall.

As he pulled into Danette’s cul-de-sac, Jackson had the sinking feeling this situation would not turn out well. He checked his watch: 3:05. Danette had been missing for five hours. The idea that she was hanging out at the mall didn’t hold together unless the young woman’s mental health problems were more complicated than Kera realized.

The skinny neighbor who had watched him earlier came out and pretended to search for something in her car. Jackson decided to approach her before she called the police. Her little girl came running out and the woman sent her back inside with a look.