Deadly Gratitude Read online

  Don scowled. “I doubt that. I don’t know any committed swimmers who wear necklaces while they swim. And anyone who swims this time of year is clearly a committed swimmer.”

  “That’s for sure,” Meg replied.

  Don felt a slap on his back and looked up to see that his six foot seven partner had arrived. There were many times in tense situations when it was a tremendous comfort to have the giant, 240 pound muscular African American on his side.

  “Morning, Cheeto.” Luke’s greeting came out like the rumble of a percolating volcano.

  “Cheeto?” Meg blinked in confusion.

  Luke grinned. “My partner just loves those orange snacks. We were on a stakeout and had to bolt after the bad guys who just happened to be wearing very expensive suits. Don got that tasty orange grime all over their beautiful clothing. They were pissed as hell.” Luke smirked. “A great memory in our illustrious crime fighting history.”

  Luke turned to view Alicia. “Oh! Oh, man!” His coffee brown eyes turned black as he glanced at Don. In a voice just as dark he said, “This is ugly. Fill me in.”

  Don brought his partner up to speed as they walked through the trees to examine the dog. A forensic specialist greeted them. “There’s a hunk of meat here and I’d bet money it’s laced with poison. And the footprints look like garden variety running shoes. They appear to be around a size ten and a half, which is the most common men’s size in America. Unfortunately.” He raised his eyebrows as if he could read the detectives’ minds. “The husband’s size is nine and a half.”

  Don spoke up. “The killer either knew the family well enough to know they had a dog, or he spent enough time watching them to figure it out.” He snorted. “That narrows it down, doesn’t it?” Sighing, he added, “All right, run all of the tests that you can on that poison. Check the tread on those shoes. If they’re new, we might be able to tie them with a recent credit card purchase or something. Since Adam Kendrick is a prosecuting attorney for Denver we’re under even more pressure than usual to find his wife’s killer.”

  “That’s exactly right!” A female voice from behind them caused Don and Luke to startle. The captain of homicide, Belinda Mann, was on the scene. She stepped forward and stretched her five foot two inch frame to put her pudgy index finger directly in Don’s face. Anger smoldered in her mud-colored eyes. “I want this case solved quickly. I want the killer brought to justice. And I want any involvement by those clowns from the media kept to a minimum.” She looked at both of them. “Gather all of the information as fast as you can and get working, is that clear?”

  Don spoke up before Luke had a chance. “Understood.”

  “Good.” Belinda walked over to Alicia’s body and squatted down to take a closer look. The permanent frown lines in her face deepened. “Whoa. What a mess.” At 175 pounds, she wasn’t agile enough to get up by herself, so she held up her hand for Don’s assistance. He hauled her up. She ran a hand through her graying hair, mumbled something representing a thank you, then left.

  Luke growled, “What does that woman think we’re going to do? Go to a football game and drink beer all afternoon?”

  “That’s just Belinda. If we want to catch the bad guys, we have to put up with her.” His mouth twitched. “But I agree. Gets old.”

  At that moment, Adam appeared at the back door. Don gestured towards Luke. “Adam, this is my partner, Luke Malone.”

  Adam shook hands with the detective and Luke placed a hand on the grieving man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss. Let’s talk so my partner and I can get to work.”

  Adam led them into the great room. When he noticed the lights twinkling on the Christmas tree, he stopped. “She must have turned the lights on before she went outside for a swim,” he whispered. “Alicia loved Christmas.” Tears welled up in his eyes.

  Don spotted a box of tissues on a coffee table that was nearly hidden behind a pile of teen magazines. He handed one to Adam and waited for the widower to recover.

  Coughing, Adam looked up. “Thanks. Um, do you want some water or anything?” He gestured towards the kitchen. “I keep expecting Alicia to bring a tray in with coffee and cream and muffins.” His face cracked again. He shuffled his feet and gazed at the floor while taking some staggered breaths.

  “We’re fine.” Don cleared his throat. “Adam, I’m going to record this. Okay with you? Many times a detail that doesn’t seem significant at first, turns out to be important later.”

  Adam nodded.

  “All right,” Don continued. “Take us through what happened this morning.”

  Adam described coming downstairs expecting to see his wife reading the paper and drinking coffee after her workout. “Alicia always gets up early,” he confirmed. “She usually has her workout in and shower done before anyone else is even out of bed.” Adam paused. “Anyway, when she wasn’t in the kitchen, the first place I looked was outside. I told her yesterday that I was going to close the pool today. I knew she’d want to get one last swim in.” Adam’s voice started to shake. “I opened the door and saw her body floating in the pool... and all of the blood. I ran over and pulled her out. But she was gone.” The last sentence was whispered. The grieving husband sank into the couch running his hands through his hair. He fell silent, having relived the devastation of his morning.

  “Then what happened?” Luke prompted.

  “I called 911. Luckily, Alicia told me where each of the kids stayed last night. I called their friends’ parents and asked them to keep my kids until I…” Adam struggled to end his thought. “Until I figure out… how I’m going to go on.” He put his hand over his eyes. “How am I going to tell them their mother was murdered?”

  The room went still. “How old are your children?” Don asked.

  “Jessica is fifteen and James just turned nine”.

  Don placed a hand on Adam’s arm. “I want you to know that Luke and I will find this guy.”

  Adam fixed his eyes on one detective and then the other. “You have to,” he whispered. “You just have to.”

  Don thought for a moment. “I have another question for you. A heated outdoor pool in Denver costs a heck of a lot of money to operate this time of year…” Don cleared his throat.

  Adam broke in, “How can a city’s prosecuting attorney with two children afford that expense, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Alicia’s parents are very wealthy. Alicia’s dad started his company from the ground up. He sold it when he retired, making millions. Alicia is their only child. She was a state champion swimmer in high school, then went on to swim in college at the University of Wisconsin. We met there.” Adam drifted away lost in thought for a minute. He blinked. “Anyway, when we bought this house her parents wanted her to have a pool, so they paid for it.” Adam gestured in a circular motion referring to the house. “They helped us with the down payment for this place too.”

  That explained the photos with the elderly couple. “I see.” Don scratched the back of his neck. “What organizations did Alicia belong to? How did she spend her time?”

  “She mainly took care of us. She was on the PTA at Moore Elementary and at the high school. She was in a Bible study group at church, and she was involved in our children’s sports activities with the other mothers.” Adam shrugged. “That’s about all I can think of right now.”

  “What about your neighbors? Any troubles with them? Or relatives, have you had any disagreements with anyone?”

  Adam shook his head. “No, nothing. We are just a normal, quiet family.”

  Don looked at Luke. “Let’s take a look at Adam’s enemies. Maybe someone Adam put behind bars wants payback.”

  Luke agreed.

  Adam put his hand over his eyes again. His head dropped.

  “You didn’t cause this,” Don stated in a low voice. “This isn’t you
r fault.” He paused. “We need a list of all of the organizations that Alicia was involved in, along with contact info. I also want to meet with Alicia’s parents. Explore if there is an old grudge or something from the past that we should know about. Don’t want to overlook anything. Do her parents know yet?”

  Adam shook his head.

  “Do you want to tell them or should we?”

  “I will,” Adam said. He took a breath. “To be honest with you, the first thing I thought of after I could actually form a thought was that someone I prosecuted wants to get back at me. I could meet you over at my office later today to go through my files.” He paused. “I have to take care of my kids first, though.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. “How am I going to do that?”

  Don squatted down next to him. In a voice just above a whisper he murmured, “I noticed the religious pictures and books when I walked through your house. You mentioned Alicia’s Bible study group. Do you belong to a church? Could you call your minister?”

  “Yes, we go to St. James Catholic Church nearby.”

  Don continued, “Talk to your priest. No matter what, it isn’t going to be easy. But he can help you better than anyone.”

  Adam nodded.

  Don pressed his card into Adam’s hand. “If we could get you to give us the address of Alicia’s parents, then you could call them and let them know we are coming over to ask some questions. You have my card. Call me any time day or night.” Don paused for a minute. “Is there someone besides yourself who knows about your cases? I want to catch the killer, but I don’t want to tear you away from your kids right now.”

  A look of relief crossed Adam’s face. “Yes. Why didn’t I think of that? Rebecca Van Dyke would be able to help you, probably better than I can. She’s my right arm.”

  After receiving the requested information, Don and Luke left. As they walked out to the car, Luke looked at his partner. “Cheeto, I have a bad feeling about this one.”

  “Yeah.” Don’s forehead creased. “So do I.”

  Chapter Three

  Don’s phone rang before he even started the Crown Vic. He put the phone on speaker and put the car in gear. “Yes Belinda?” Don braced himself.

  “Are you on your way to Adam’s office yet?” she asked without a greeting. “Clearly, it’s some loser that he sent to jail who’s itching to retaliate.”

  Don squinted as though he could somehow shield himself from her grating voice. “Adam needs to talk to his children,” Don explained. “We’re headed to meet with Alicia’s parents. We might be able to-”

  Belinda cut him off, “Alicia’s parents! Yeah, you’re really going to learn a lot from them. Like what a wonderful daughter she was. What she did in elementary school. Great idea. And while you’re learning all of those oh so very important bits of information, her killer is on the run.” Belinda snorted. “Another option is to actually play it smart and get over to Adam’s office now. Just a thought. All I know is I want this case resolved ASAP! Got it?” Belinda hung up.

  Don stared at the phone. “Love you too, Belinda.”

  “Even sarcasm is too nice for her, Cheeto. Does she think we actually don’t want to solve this case? Does she think we want a murderer loose in the city? I just can’t believe what comes out of that woman’s mouth! Sometimes I wish we lived in the Roman times so we could feed her to the lions!” Luke smiled and rubbed his hands together as he envisioned the thought.

  “Not an idea that two homicide detectives should entertain,” Don snorted. “But I get it.” He tapped the steering wheel with his fist as he thought. “Adam said his contact told him it’s going to take a little time to get the office. Let’s just ignore Belinda and go visit Alicia’s parents.”

  “Ignoring Belinda is my daily dream. I’m in.”

  The O’Donnell home was located in Cherry Creek, one of the most affluent areas in Denver. Don drove up to an elegant stone house set back behind manicured evergreens and an ornamental wrought iron fence. The snow draped upon the spruces made it look like a Christmas card. A six foot tall, silver-haired, fit, elderly gentleman wearing a black cashmere sweater appeared at the door. “I’m Elliot O’Donnell. Are you detectives Layden and Malone?”

  “Yes, sir.” Don walked up and shook Elliott’s hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Elliott’s face broke and his grieving green eyes bore into Don’s. “It’s too horrible for words.”

  Don agreed as he and Luke stepped into the entry way. The interior of the house was spectacular with beautiful wooden beams accentuating the lofted ceilings. Don’s shoes sunk into the big Persian rugs that were placed in the center of Italian wood floors. Some well-chosen pieces of valuable art hung on the walls.

  Elliott led them to a den where a small woman with short, stylish hair colored with blonde highlights sat next to a fireplace. She cradled her face in her hands and sobbed so hard she seemed unable to take in a breath. Her husband stood next to her with his hand on her shoulder.

  “Elizabeth, these are the detectives Adam called about, Don Layden and Luke Malone.”

  Elizabeth managed a ragged breath and looked up. “Thank you for coming so quickly,” she croaked. Then she put her head in her hands and continued to cry.

  “Why don’t we go into my office?” Elliott suggested. He gently rubbed his wife’s shoulders, then turned and led them into another part of the house.

  Don found himself sitting next to Luke in a room with solid oak bookshelves lining two of the walls and a huge oak desk, at which Elliott seated himself. The wall directly behind Elliott shimmered with awards and credentials.

  After Don received permission to record the conversation, Luke peppered Elliott with questions while Don listened and eyed the paperwork on the desk. He made a mental note of the return addresses of the investment firms. Most of them were recognizable, but of couple of them were not. “Are there any financial issues that could cause any backlash against you?” Don asked. “Try to think of everything, something that may not seem like a big deal to you but could be to someone else.”

  Elliott sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. After a minute he shook his head. “No,” he replied. “There is nothing out of the ordinary that I can think of. Recently, I’ve invested with a couple of new firms, but there aren’t any problems there. I do dabble in penny stocks just for fun, but the majority of my investments are with the old, solid firms.”

  After a few more questions Don handed Elliott his card, and the detectives left. Don was anxious to get to Adam’s office downtown to meet with Adam’s assistant, Rebecca Van Dyke.

  Once they arrived, Don called and waited at the locked door until a small, stylish, gray-haired woman dressed in wool pants and a navy blue ski sweater met them. “Are you the detectives on the Kendrick murder?”

  “Yes,” said Don extending his hand, “I’m Don Layden and this is Luke Malone.”

  She shook hands with both detectives. “Hi, I’m Rebecca Van Dyke. May I see your badges?”

  Don smiled to himself as she scrutinized first Don’s badge and then Luke’s. This woman was by the book.

  When she was satisfied, she led them over to the elevators and punched the button for the tenth floor. “How’s Adam doing?”

  “He’s devastated,” Don replied. “It was a brutal crime scene. Not only is he mourning losing his wife in such a vicious way, but he’s also grieving for his children losing their mother. He’s struggling with how to explain it to them.”

  The doors opened and they stepped out into the office. “No one can explain something like that,” Rebecca spat. “It’s completely inconceivable!”

  Her heels clicked on the marble floor as they walked to a conference room. They stepped in and saw piles of files on the wooden center table. Don blinked.

  Luke p
ut his hands on his head. “Holy crap!”

  “A good prosecuting attorney can process about fifteen hundred cases per year.” Rebecca motioned for them to sit down. “Five years is the average time that an inmate serves.” She handed them each a file. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that we have a lot of files to go through.”

  “You’ve got to be joking.” Luke looked overwhelmed.

  Rebecca put both hands on her hips. “Fear not, oh great warrior. Rebecca Van Dyke is here! I keep a systematic Excel spreadsheet on all of Adam’s cases. I’ll have it narrowed down to about two thousand files in no time!”

  Luke plopped down into a gleaming chrome chair. He groaned as Rebecca, heels clicking, walked out of the room to get more files.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Over at the police station, Belinda Mann examined some charts on her computer. “Okay, now where is that email the accountant sent me for November?” she muttered to herself. “Ah!” Leaning forward, she focused on the screen and then input some data. “Perfect!” She printed out the chart and held it in both hands, staring at it as though it was a trophy. With a painted blood-red fingernail, she traced the crime statistics line for the past three years, which showed a slight decline in blue. Then she traced the green line, which showed data of expenses for the same time period. That line indicated a significant decline at the beginning of the three-year period with continued downturns throughout the rest of the chart.

  She sat back in her seat, smiling. “No one can argue with the numbers. Belinda Mann is doing a fantastic job for the citizens of Denver!” She got up and put the latest chart on a big bulletin board in her office. Next to the bulletin board were several framed articles. She stopped and looked at every article for the thousandth time. Each one mentioned how she cut expenses without crime going up. Beside the articles, there was a picture of her with the mayor as he presented her with an award. A mirror hung on the wall at the end of the display. She stopped in front of it, smoothed her hair, and stayed there for some time, smiling as she admired herself.