Deadly Target (Detective Sarah Spillman Mystery Series Book 6) Page 18

  Monica’s lips formed a thin line. “To tell you the truth, I was a little sad to hear about Sarah. I’m not sure she and I would’ve ever been friends, but I certainly wouldn’t have wished this upon her. If you care to, you can tell her that I hope she recovers soon. And if there’s anything from a medical perspective that I can do, please let me know.”

  Spats studied her, and he believed she was being genuine.

  “Do the names Cody Sheen or Nick Armistead mean anything to you?”

  “I heard about them in the news. Do their deaths relate to Sarah?”

  “I’m not sure,” Spats said truthfully.

  “Is that all, Detective?” she asked. “I don’t want to rush you out, but it’s been a long day, and I would like to go home.”

  Spats stood up and handed her a card. “If you could give me the surveillance video from this office, I’d appreciate it.”

  She tipped her head politely. “I’ll email it soon, along with the security company’s name. They can get you in touch with the gentleman who was working security last night.”

  Spats thanked her, and as he opened the door, she was already on her computer. He walked down the hall, passed the empty lobby, and walked out of the building.

  Chapter Thirty

  Cindy Olinger had said that she’d taken a Zumba class at 5:30 the previous evening, around the time when the shootings had occurred. Ernie looked up the address for Go Fit Gym on his phone and drove there. On the way, Liz called.

  “What’s going on?” Ernie asked, then immediately realized he sounded angry. “Oh, sorry … I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “You know I don’t like to bother you when you’re working an investigation,” Liz said, her voice softer than usual. “But I just felt like I needed to say this.”

  Ernie put her on the car phone and stared through the windshield, both hands on the wheel. “Listen, I –”

  “Hon, just let me finish,” she said. “About our fight. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up anything last night. It was really bad timing. It could’ve waited a few days, until you have more time to deal with it.”

  “But you worry I never have time.”

  “Sometimes it feels that way. But with Sarah being shot, I should’ve waited. I see that.”

  “Thanks,” Ernie said. “But … I shouldn’t have brushed you off like I did, either. You were trying to help me, and I just didn’t … I couldn’t …”

  “Yes?”

  Ernie sighed. “Well, I do spend a lot of time with Sarah, and I know you and the girls get the short end of the stick too often. I’m sorry about that. Sarah is a good co-worker and friend, but that’s it.” He paused, then continued. “Earlier today, I was thinking about you and me. You know I’m not good with feelings and all that, but … you and the girls are the most important thing to me. No one else. Not Sarah, or Spats, or even the job. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “Well,” Liz finally said. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

  “I’ll try to say it more often.”

  They were both silent for a minute.

  “How’s your day going?” she finally asked.

  “Not bad, a lot of running around.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Will do. I’ll see you later tonight.”

  “Just one quick thing, though. Don’t forget, the girls are on spring break next week. I thought it’d be nice if we could do something fun, maybe a movie or two? If you can,” she tacked on quickly.

  “I’ll make sure I set some time aside.”

  “Thanks, hon. Love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Oh, I have teacher’s conferences tonight.”

  “I doubt I can make it.”

  “I know, just wanted to let you know if you get home and I’m not there.”

  “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll miss seeing you.”

  He ended the call and momentarily felt a bit better. By now, he was at Go Fit Gym. He parked, got out, and ambled through glass entrance doors. A strong chlorine smell immediately hit him as he walked into an open atrium. He glanced left, and through large windows, he saw an Olympic-sized swimming pool. A sign at the end of a hallway pointed toward locker rooms and squash courts. He walked over to a long counter and smiled at the man at the front desk.

  “May I help you?” He was young, high school age, or possibly college, with blue eyes and a shock of blond hair sticking up in all directions. Ernie figured both his daughters would think this young man was, as they say, “cute.”

  “I’m wondering if you could help me,” Ernie said casually as he laid an elbow on the counter. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his wallet, and showed his badge.

  The teenager’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “Yes?”

  “Were you working the counter last night?” Ernie tapped the surface.

  The kid nodded again. “I was. Why?”

  Ernie smiled. “Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble. I just need you to confirm something for me. Was a woman named Cindy Olinger here last night?”

  He was about to describe her when the kid spoke. “Oh, Cindy, I know her. She comes in every Monday night for the Zumba class.” His cheeks reddened. “She always asks how I’m doing.” He gestured behind Ernie, where people were walking past to go to the locker rooms and squash courts. “A lot of the people come in and just show you their membership card as they walk by, but Cindy really likes to talk. She started talking to me one night, and now she chats with me every time I see her. That’s how I know who you mean.” He rolled his eyes.

  Ernie tapped the counter again. “And she was here last night?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, she was. If you want, the Zumba instructor is here again tonight. Her name is Ashley.” He pointed down the hall. “If you go down there and make a right, a couple doors down, there’s a big room. She’s in there.” He glanced over his shoulder at a large clock on the wall. “She has a class at 5:30, so you could catch her before it starts.”

  Ernie thanked him, then followed the directions to the Zumba class. Two of the walls in the room were painted in some kind of pale purple, and the other two were mirrors which made the room look even larger than it was. The floor was hardwood. Ernie stepped into the room and didn’t see anyone. Then a voice startled him. He whirled around to see a woman in gray leggings and a form-fitting crop-top come out of a door at the other end of the room.

  “Hello.” Her long dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her brown eyes gave him a once-over that wasn’t too subtle. Ernie quickly understood that he wasn’t the typical Zumba class participant that she was accustomed to seeing.

  “I’m Detective Moore with the Denver Police Department,” Ernie said. His voice echoed a bit. He showed her his badge. “I need some information about your Zumba class last night.”

  “Sure,” she said, the tone part fear, part curiosity.

  “Who was in your class? Do you know everyone by name?”

  She shook her head. “Not at the beginning. I mean, I get a list of people, and if they attend regularly, I tend to remember their names. Especially if they’re chatty.”

  Ernie raised his eyebrows. “Who do you remember from last night?”

  “Let’s see, there was Beth and Rhianna.” She looked at herself in the mirror as she thought about it. “And then there was Gail and Myla. Oh, and Cindy was here, too.” She shrugged. “There were a few other women who were here for the first time.” She pointed over her shoulder. “I could get you their names from the list, if that would be helpful.”

  Ernie shook his head. “You said Cindy. Do you know her last name?”

  “Olinger, I think. She’s nice, one of the chatty ones.” She started to laugh, then swallowed it. “I hope she’s not in any kind of trouble. It sounds like she went through hell with her husband.” Then she glanced away. “I guess I shouldn’t talk about that, but she’s been pretty open about what happened. I can’t tell what the truth is, but she�
�s nice enough, so I don’t say anything.”

  Ernie kept it neutral. “She was definitely here last night?”

  “Yes, that’s the truth. She hardly ever misses the class.”

  “What does she talk about with you?”

  “How she misses her husband, that kind of thing.”

  “Has she ever mentioned the names Sarah Spillman or Cody Sheen?”

  She thought about that. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “What about guns? Does she talk about owning guns?”

  She laughed. “No, of course not.”

  Ernie smiled. “Okay, I appreciate your time.”

  “May I ask why you’re looking for her?” she asked as he turned to leave.

  He stopped and glanced at her. “It’s just routine.”

  She nodded, and he left the room. As he walked down the hall and back toward the entrance, he felt pretty confident that Cindy Olinger’s alibi for last night was good. Both Ashley and the kid at the front seemed credible. If Cindy had gotten either one to lie for her, Ernie thought it was unlikely that they both could be such good actors. He waved to the kid at the counter as he passed by, then pushed through the double doors and walked to the parking lot.

  As he walked, Ernie thought about something else: even though Cindy’s alibi seemed good, there was still a fairly plausible motive for her to want revenge on Sarah, because of Sarah’s role in sending Pete Olinger to jail. If that was the case, Ernie supposed Cindy could’ve hired somebody to kill Sarah. But Cindy appeared clean, so he wasn’t sure about that theory, either. And he still couldn’t come up with a reason that she would’ve killed Cody Sheen and Nick Armistead.

  Ernie shook his head as he got into his car. He didn’t have a cigar butt, and that made him even more irritated. He muttered under his breath as he started the car and drove to a nearby Subway. While he ate, he called Liz to tell her he’d miss dinner. She sounded like she was back to her usual self, and he was glad of that. Then he finished his meatball sub and drove back to the station. He spent a while researching Cindy Olinger, checking her background and her social media accounts. He didn’t find anything suspicious. He finally pushed back his chair and stared at his laptop. He was deep in thought when his cell phone rang.

  “Oakley,” Ernie said.

  “Hey.” Oakley sounded as frustrated as Ernie felt. “I finally got the right Enterprise Car Rental. The SUV was rented yesterday morning around ten to a Joe Smith.”

  “Isn’t that creative?”

  Oakley laughed. “Yeah. How much you want to bet it’s a fake name?”

  “I’d lose.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, the car was returned late Monday evening. It’s already been rented again.”

  “I’m sure it was cleaned out right away,” Ernie said. “Not that we would find anything.”

  “Right. I wanted to stop by the Enterprise where the SUV was picked up, but they closed at six so I just missed them. I’ll see if I can talk to the manager tomorrow about the car.”

  “That’s too bad,” Ernie said.

  “Yeah. I’m also working to get the credit card records for this Joe Smith, see what I can find out.”

  “You’ll need a warrant.”

  “Yep, I’m getting one for that, and for Enterprise, so they can give us what information they have on Smith.”

  “Good work.”

  “And a piece of good news – we have some surveillance video from a house near Sarah’s crime scene. You can see two dark SUVs parked up the street. We got the license plate on one of them and tracked it back to the owner, Emily Carlotta. She has an airtight alibi for that night. She was with two friends at a nearby house. On the other SUV, we tried to enhance the picture to see the license plate, but no luck.”

  “But a dark SUV was nearby when Sarah was shot.”

  “Yeah. It could be the same one that was in the vicinity where Nick Armistead was killed.”

  “So, one shooter.” Ernie was trying to wrap his head around the information, but he was tired, and he could tell Oakley was, too. He hadn’t realized it was almost eight. “Go home, get some rest. We’ll tackle things tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.”

  With that, Oakley was gone. Ernie looked around. The room was quiet, all the detectives gone. He yawned, shut down his laptop, and called Spats.

  “How about a drink? I’m too wired to go home just yet.”

  “Sure,” Spats said. “O’Reilly’s?”

  “See you there.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “How’re you doing?” Hunter asked me as he walked into my hospital room.

  “Hey, baby brother,” I said to him. I was feeling slightly better, and the pain meds didn’t seem to be kicking my butt as much as earlier in the day. “I won’t be playing racquetball anytime soon.”

  He arched an eyebrow at me. “Since when do you play racquetball?”

  I laughed, and pain shot through my shoulder, a quick reminder of what all I’d been through. As Harry had said, I’d have a long recovery.

  Diane stood near a window, and Harry was sitting on a chair by the bed, and he reached out and shook Hunter’s hand. “Thanks for coming.”

  Hunter smiled, then pointed to the end of the bed. “Is it okay if I sit here?”

  I nodded. “There’s hardly anywhere to sit in this room. I think it’s to discourage visitors.”

  Hunter glanced over at Diane. “That’s not going to deter us, right, Sis?”

  I smiled. Hunter is three years younger than I am, and he and I get along really well, unlike my tense relationship with Diane. He’s a software developer, and he’s single, and I don’t know why no one has snatched him up. He’s got the same blond hair as I do, but he has blue eyes, and a cute smile and dimples.

  Hunter looked over at Diane, then jerked a thumb at me. “What’s the prognosis on this one?”

  Diane went into doctor mode. “She’s lucky she wasn’t killed. Good thing the bullet just nicked her jugular vein. Like they say, an inch here or there, and that would’ve been it.”

  “I think I’m going to make it,” I said.

  Diane shook her head at that. “To answer your question, Hunter, the doctors said the surgery to repair the collarbone and muscle in Sarah’s shoulder went well.” Diane fixed me with a glare. “You, however, need to take it easy. That’s the key now.”

  Hunter turned to me. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure that happens.” He glanced at Harry. “Right?”

  Harry held my hand. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I don’t stand a chance, do I?” I smiled.

  I still felt extremely tired, and I listened as Harry and Hunter began talking about their respective jobs. Both were in tech, and a lot of the jargon went over my head. But it was comforting, especially when they laughed. Voices again drifted in from the hall, and the machines near my bed beeped and wheezed. When I opened my eyes and saw Diane looking at me with a soft expression, I felt fine. I had the people I loved most around me, and it was the best feeling. I tried to think about Ernie and Spats in their investigations, but my mind wandered, and I soon dozed off.

  “I see you started before me.” Spats slipped onto a bar stool next to Ernie and gestured at the bartender. “I’ll have what he’s having,” Spats said.

  They were at O’Reilly’s, a bar popular with law enforcement. It was close to the station at Thirteenth and Cherokee, and a few other detectives sat at a booth in the corner. The lighting was muted, the walls dark-paneled, no music played. A great place for private conversations.

  The bartender nodded, poured Scotch over ice, and slipped the glass across the bar to Spats. Spats picked it up and took a sip, studied the glass for a moment, and set it back down. “What a day.”

  Ernie nodded. “Flatfooting all over town.”

  Spats took another drink and nodded. “I got hold of Samantha, Cody’s ex. She’s out of town. I even called the hotel she’s at, and they verified she’s there.” He groaned, as if his feet h
urt. “And I stopped by Auraria and talked to Austin’s professor. He verified Austin was at class Monday night. And I need to turn in Shrimp’s gun.” He laughed. “He wasn’t happy I took it.”

  “It’s probably not registered,” Ernie said dryly.

  “Right.” Spats swiveled in the chair to better face Ernie. “Where are things at now?”

  Ernie waited until the bartender sauntered away. “Oakley finally got a hit from some of the surveillance videos. We got a license plate from an SUV parked near where Nick Armistead was killed. It’s a rental. And a dark SUV was parked up the street from where Sarah was shot, however, Oakley wasn’t able to see a license plate on that car.” Ernie grabbed some peanuts from a bowl on the bar. “Oakley’s working with Enterprise to find out about the guy who rented the SUV.”

  “That’s great news.” Spats reached for some peanuts and ate a few. “I missed dinner, just grabbed a candy bar.”

  Ernie took a drink. “I managed a sub.” He munched on more peanuts. “That particular Enterprise Car Rental closed at six, so Oakley just missed talking to them. We’ll have to drop by there first thing tomorrow morning to talk to the manager, see what he remembers about the person who rented that SUV. Oakley is also working to get the credit card records from that rental, so we’ll find out who the card belongs to and what’s been charged on it. We might luck out there.”

  Spats swished the ice in the glass and set it down. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore. “We can’t definitely put that SUV at the other two crime scenes?”

  Ernie shrugged. “Not yet. Again, if we get lucky, we might find somebody with surveillance video that would help us. Oakley also got doorbell cam footage from Rachel Armistead’s house, but he said he didn’t see a dark SUV anywhere near the house recently.”

  Spats stared across the bar into his reflection. He was dark-skinned with closely shaved hair. He glanced away. He didn’t like to look at himself, didn’t like his eyes and the way they judged him for his faults.

  “I just can’t figure this,” he said. “There’s still no connection between all three of them.”