Passions of the Dead (A Detective Jackson Mystery/Thriller) (22 page)

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. He was driving your van.”

“So? He’s been driving it for months. I wanted the van back, but Noni said to let him use it.” Engall feigned innocence about Gorlock’s criminal activities.

Jackson didn’t buy it. “Tyler was with you the night you killed Jared Walker. You brought him along to help kill everyone. You wanted it to look like a home invasion. Two birds with one stone. Kill the man who was blackmailing you and steal his guns at the same time.”

“No.” Engall shouted and shook his head. “I did not kill Jared. Neither did Tyler. My stepson’s an asshole at times but he would never kill anyone.”

“He participated in a home invasion today and took a police officer hostage. I think we’ve established he’s capable of anything.”

“Oh shit.” Engall’s face went slack. He was surprised, but not shocked. “Noni will be devastated.”

“But not you?”

“He’s not my kid. By the time I met Noni, Tyler was already headed for trouble. She never listened to me about how to handle him.”

This was not going the way Jackson had envisioned. He needed to get back to the Walker murders. “Roy, you’re not paying attention. We found your bloody footprints at the scene of a triple homicide. We found a blackmail note from the dead man in your van. If a single piece of your DNA comes back from the lab, you’ll get the death penalty.”

A long silence while Roy stared at his hands.

Evans spoke softly. “If you weren’t the only one at the Walker house, Roy, tell us about the others. The first one to confess gets the deal.”

Roy closed his eyes again, lips moving.

Evans kept up the good cop routine. “I don’t think you actually killed anyone, Roy. I think you went there to confront Jared about the blackmail.” Evans leaned closer and lowered her voice like a conspirator. “You brought your stepson with you. Tyler had other plans. He was after the guns. When Jared wouldn’t give him the key, Tyler went crazy and started killing everyone. You wanted to stop him but you couldn’t.”

Smart play by Evans. Jackson was proud of her.

“It’s not your fault, Roy,” she soothed. “Tell us what happened and we can help you. We’ll get the DA in here for a plea bargain.”

“May I have some time alone, please? I have a lot to think about.”

Jackson hesitated. He’d had some bad experiences with suspects in this room lately. Evans gave him a subtle nudge. Finally, he stood. “Take the deal, Roy. Your stepson is not worth protecting.”

He and Evans headed for the conference room where a small closed-circuit TV was set up to monitor interrogations. It was wired to cameras in both little rooms. They checked on Engall first. His head tipped forward and he seemed to be praying again.

“Do you think God cares about Roy Engall’s little predicament?” Evans said, with more amusement than sarcasm.

“Roy thinks he does. Nice job in there, by the way.” Jackson touched her shoulder. Not a man-clap, but not a squeeze either.

Evans broke into a smile. “Thanks.”

Jackson noticed, and not for the first time, she was really quite attractive when she smiled. At moments like this, when she was a good detective
and
a pretty woman, he wondered what it would be like to date her. To really get to know her.

He pushed the thought out of his mind and eased away from Evans. “Let’s check the other room and see how Schak and Quince are doing.” He clicked the TV to the other circuit, but they had no sound. He shut the unit off and turned it back on. Still no sound.

“This has been a piece of crap since day one.” Evans smacked the side of the TV to no effect.

They watched without sound for a few minutes. Schak slapped the table and jumped up, while McCray looked casual, leaning back with his arms crossed. Tyler Gorlock seemed unaffected. He shook his blond shaggy head a few times, but his mouth was set in a firm line, not moving. Jackson itched to get in there. He wouldn’t interrupt the other detectives though.

“I’m going for a soda.” Evans headed for the door. “Do you want one?”

“Sure. Diet whatever.”

Schak and McCray joined them in the conference room ten minutes later.

“The shithead says he’s never been to the Walker house.” Schak’s face was flushed on his cheeks but pale everywhere else.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jackson kept it casual.

“I’m fine.” Schak scowled and peeled off his jacket. “Why?”

“You look a little flush.”

“It’s hot as hell in that room.”

Jackson had never noticed the heat, but the proximity of the walls definitely got to him. “Did Gorlock tell you anything useful?”

“Not a damn thing.” McCray glanced at the clock. Jackson looked too: 8:35 p.m.

“Go home, McCray. There’s no need for all of us to be here. You too, Schak.”

“I think I will,” McCray said. “I’m meeting with Detectives Bohnert and Rios in the morning. Lammers assigned me the home invasion case, and she hopes to connect it to the carjackings.”

“I’m staying,” Schak said with a grin. “I want to get in Gorlock’s face for while.”

“Let’s go.” Jackson downed his soda and tossed the can in the trash on the way out. In his head, he heard Kera and Katie both nag him about recycling. At the moment, he didn’t have time for it.

The second interrogation room was even smaller than the first. From the chair, if he leaned hard, Jackson could touch the walls on either side. he realized the claustrophobia he was now experiencing elsewhere stemmed from too much time in these damn windowless rooms.
How bad would it get?

Jackson plopped down and grinned at Tyler Gorlock. Next month was Jackson’s twenty-year mark with the department. He hadn’t let himself think about it much, but right now it pleased him to know he didn’t
have
to do this much longer. He could retire and collect his pension if they didn’t lay him off first.

“What are you smiling about?” Gorlock was hard to look at. His face was too narrow, his eyes were too close together, and he had a plethora of scars and sores. Acne as a teenager and meth use as an adult had ruined his skin and made him creepy.

“I’m smiling because you and your father are both going to prison for a long time. The town I love is already a better place.”

“My father is dead.”

“Your stepfather, on the other hand, is sitting in the next room talking about how you killed Jared Walker and his family.”

“Bullshit.”

“About how you decided to steal Jared’s guns and when he wouldn’t open the safe you took a bat to his head.”

“I wasn’t there.” Gorlock popped out of his chair. With his hands cuffed behind him, he was relatively powerless, but Jackson and Schak leaped to their feet.

“Sit down!” They shouted in unison.

Gorlock hesitated long enough to show defiance, then eased back into his chair.

Jackson kept it up. “When Carla tried to defend her husband, you killed her too. You took the knife to the kids, just to take out the witnesses.”

“That is such bullshit. I don’t hurt people.” Gorlock must have remembered his actions earlier that day, because for a moment he looked chagrined. Then the defiance was back. “Today was fucked up. I never intended for anyone to become a hostage. It was supposed to be a smash and grab, but the cop came to the door and Rico went a little nuts.”

“You fired on a police officer.”

“That was Rico. He was high. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Yet, you’re likely to get the death penalty,” Schak said, smiling.

Jackson added, “Based on your stepfather’s testimony about last Sunday night, you’ll be convicted of three counts of premeditated murder.”

Tyler looked confused, then stunned. “You’re saying Roy was at the Walkers’ house when they were killed?”

“And you were with him.”

“This is unbelievable.” Gorlock shook his head. “He’s blaming it on me?”

“He says you killed everyone and he tried to stop you.” Jackson sometimes felt a little guilty about lying to suspects, but not this one. Hostage-takers were less than human.

Gorlock coughed up a strange laugh. “The bastard. I can’t believe he hates me that much.”

“All criminals turn on each other eventually.”

Gorlock scooted forward on his seat and tried to look earnest. “Listen, I did not go to the Walkers house with Roy or anyone. I did not kill Jared and his family. I was not there.”

Tyler was a skilled liar. No blinking, good eye contact, and earnest expression. Jackson was tempted to uncuff him to see what Tyler would do with his hands, but he couldn’t take the risk.

“Do you know five upstanding citizens who are willing to swear you were somewhere else Sunday night?”

The suspect licked his lips. “No, but I will take a lie detector test. I wasn’t there. I didn’t kill the Walkers.”

Jackson sat back, surprised. Could this shithead be telling the truth?

Schak spoke up and Jackson could feel his frustration. “Even if you beat the lie detector, we can’t use it in court. It will still be Roy Engall’s word against yours.”

Gorlock had a glimmer of hope. “Roy will never testify against me. My mother won’t let him. Hell, she’ll leave him the minute she finds out he tried to frame me for murder.”

“We already have Roy’s testimony,” Jackson reminded him. “The jury will believe the video. The only thing you can do to help yourself is tell us what really happened.”

“This is fucked up.” Gorlock slumped in his chair. “If Roy says he was there, he must have killed them. The fucker must have been drunk out of his mind.” He looked up at Jackson. “I heard Lori was still alive. I hope it’s true.”

“Do you have a special interest in Lori?” Jackson worried even from jail, Gorlock would find someone to silence Lori as a witness.

“What do you mean? She’s a friend.”

“How do you know Lori?”

Gorlock seemed surprised by the question. “I worked with her dad. Shane brought her over to the trailer a few times.”

“Why would Shane bring Lori to your trailer?”

Another puzzled look. “She’s Shane’s girlfriend. They needed a place to screw.”

Jackson tried to hide his surprise. “Were their families okay with it?”

“Her parents didn’t know because Lori didn’t want them to.” Gorlock shrugged. “I don’t know what the big deal is. They’re not really cousins. Jared and Tracy are step brother and sister.”

Jackson thought about Lori saying Shane’s name in the hospital. Had she been crying out for her boyfriend instead of naming the killer?

Schak jumped in. “Is that how you knew about the rifles? From Lori?”

“Everybody knows Jared has a Remington 700. He brags about it when he’s drinking.”

“What’s it worth?” Schak pressed.

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Gorlock brought his cuffed hands up to scratch his chin, and Jackson knew he’d just lied.

“Like hell you don’t.” Schak pushed to his feet and shot around to Gorlock’s side of the table. “Those guns represented cash. Just like John Northrup’s guns would have been sold for cash. Detectives are searching your house and your car right now. They’ll find any stolen items you haven’t sold.”

“Good luck to them.”

“You cocky bastard.” Schak grabbed Gorlock’s face and squeezed. If not for the camera, Jackson thought his partner might have struck him. “You took a cop hostage, you sorry son of a bitch. You’ll never get out of jail.”

Jackson waited for Schak to step away from the suspect. When he did, Jackson said, “Tell us your side of the story, Tyler. Don’t let your stepfather pin the Walker killings on you.” Jackson tried to sound empathetic but it was a struggle. “Roy is the one who was being blackmailed. He’s the one who was drunk and started the assault. Maybe you were just trying to defend yourself.” All Jackson needed was for Gorlock to admit he was there. “A life sentence is better than the death penalty. People with life sentences walk out of prison all the time.”

“I was never in the house.” Gorlock leaned back. “I want a lawyer and a lie detector test. Until then I’m done talking.”

“He thinks he can beat a lie detector? Cocky little bastard.” Schak opened the door to the conference room and they found it empty. McCray had gone home and Evans was probably at her desk.

“Maybe he’s telling the truth.” Jackson was anxious to pressure Engall again, but he couldn’t go back into the interrogation closet just yet. “Walk around the block with me? We’ll take on Engall again when we get back. One of those lowlifes was in the Walker house.”

“Maybe both.” Schak pulled on his jacket. “The little rooms getting to you?”

“A little.”

The sun had set, but the air was gloriously warm, the first real summer evening of the season. The kind of night where people sat out on their decks and drank beer and made plans to go camping or hiking. Jackson yearned for that life. He wanted real weekends that didn’t get interrupted with calls to look at dead bodies.

“I haven’t been fishing in a long time,” Schak said, echoing his sentiments.