Dead By Dawn (8 page)

Robert Doran sighed with relief. “I guess the good news is that it rules out that it was Kelly’s body.”

Martha Doran added, “The bad news is that the vineyard will be delayed.”

Jeremy looked at his grandma. “Why would you say that?”

“You don’t have a place to live while the work is going on,” she said.

“I’m going ahead with it. I talked to Aunt Terri yesterday and she says I can stay with her. She’s only twenty minutes away,” he said.

“That’s good,” Robert said. “We’ve waited long enough to make this happen. Don’t let this be an obstacle.”

“I’m not planning on it. I figure you’ll get insurance money and we can rebuild the house. It will be better than a remodel,” Jeremy said.

“When do you plan on starting?” Martha asked.

“Let’s get the money transferred and I will start ordering the root stock. I can hire a few people to get the fields plowed and we can start preparing the soil right away. We are going to need to buy a tractor. I don’t think the one there works anymore,” Jeremy said.

Lindsay asked, “Have you talked to the insurance company?”

“I have. The adjuster is waiting for the report from the arson inspector. We will have to meet with an architect and have plans drawn up for a new place,” Martha answered.

Out of the blue, Robert Doran changed the subject. “Have you looked into this woman that Jeremy thinks may be our Kelly?”

The question took Lindsay by surprise. “No, I haven’t. I think we need to figure out if Kelly is alive before we start shaking up other people’s lives.”

“I don’t think we should shake other people’s lives up either, but I don’t have much time left. I want to find her before I die,” he said firmly.

“I understand. I don’t think that Tracy McCarthy is Kelly,” Lindsay said. “Tracy was raised by her own family.”

“I’ve watched that woman on TV. She looks just like the age progression that Jeremy had done,” Robert said persuasively.

“But so do a lot of women,” Lindsay argued. “If we can find out how and why your daughter was killed, we can find out where Kelly is.”

“I understand. So far, we have nothing,” Robert said sadly.

“Then we keep looking.”

Lindsay drove home feeling down about what Robert Doran had said. He was right. They really didn’t have any leads.

Jeff was out of town, so Lindsay picked Evan up at her mother-in-law’s house and drove home. After finally getting him to sleep, she pulled out the file and looked through it again. There were two old fingerprint cards in the file. Technology was different back when the murders were committed. Now that there was a national database, maybe she could have her old partner, Ray Karns, run them through the system for her. She put that on her list of things to do and went through all of the neighbors statements. No one saw or heard anything. The investigator’s notes said that Bing Taylor was a ranch hand for the Davenport’s and they couldn’t locate him for questioning after the murders.

Tomorrow she would see what became of Bing Taylor.

Lindsay packed Evan up in the morning. She drove down to her old station. Ray Karns was sitting at his desk, discussing a case with his new partner. As soon as Lindsay walked in, Ray got up and took Evan from her. “Look how big he’s gotten.”

Ray introduced Lindsay to his new partner Kyle Winters. Kyle was tall and fit with dark hair and dark eyes. He was also about fifteen years younger than Ray. Ray was obviously mentoring his new partner. Ray saw the file in Lindsay’s hand. “What’s up with that?” He pointed to the file.

“Just some work to keep me busy,” she said.

“Work that you need my help on?” he asked slyly.

“No wonder you’re a detective,” she said in a chiding voice.

“What do you have?” he asked.

She laid the file on his desk. “A homicide from the seventies. A couple killed in their home. Two of the kids were taken. One was found dead; the other, still missing.”

“What do you need from me?” Ray asked.

She handed him the fingerprint cards. “These prints were lifted from a bag of pot that was left in the home.”

“You want me to run them?” he asked.

“If you can.”

“I will do it. Anything else?”

“Can you see what you have on a Bing Taylor?”

He handed Evan back to Lindsay and sat down at his desk and ran the name in the computer. “Bing Taylor was murdered,” Ray said.

The surprise was evident on Lindsay’s face. “When?”

“It looks like his body was found in Kern County. Out in the desert near Tehachapi,” he said. “You want me to call and get details?”

“I would like that a lot,” Lindsay said. “I’d like it even better if you could get a copy of the file and see if it was ever solved.”

Kyle Winters was listening to the conversation. “I tell you what. Why don’t you guys go get some lunch and catch up? I’ll make the calls,” he offered.

“Thanks.” Ray said. “Where are you taking me princess?”

Kyle Winters made some calls. By the time Lindsay, Ray, and Evan got back from lunch, the files had been faxed. “You are a miracle worker,” Lindsay said.

“Just used my charm,” Kyle said smiling like a Cheshire cat.

“Isn’t he great? He uses that on the ladies all of the time. Women just can’t resist him,” Ray said, rolling his eyes.

They all laughed. “Whatever works,” Kyle said.

Lindsay read through the paperwork sent over by the Kern County Sheriff ’s Department while Evan was passed around the squad room.

“This guy’s body was found ten days after the murders in Shandon,” she said. “He wasn’t killed where he was found. This was a body dump.”

Kyle came over with a piece of paper. “Here, this was the last of the file. It was on my desk.”

She looked at the piece of paper he handed her. “This is a list.” She read the items out loud.

“1. Kill adults

2. Find the docs.

3. Leave kids in the house unharmed.

4. Meet at the opera house in S.F. and exchange money and docs.”

“Your murder was a hitman,” Ray said.

“And not a very good hitman if he needed a list,” Kyle added.

“From the sound of it, something went wrong. The kids died and this guy ended up dead,” Ray chimed in.

“Well, at least I have a place to start. I was at a dead end,” Lindsay said. “I need to find out more about Bing Taylor.”

***

Lindsay loaded Evan and the new files in the car and drove home to Calabasas. They stopped at the store and she bought ribs to bar-b-que for dinner. Jeff was coming home from his business trip.

“Did you have a good trip?” she asked. She walked in with Evan in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other.

Jeff walked over and took Evan from her. “Good. I think he’s going to be one of the top draft picks.”

“How’s your investigation going?” he asked with interest.

“I was floundering and Ray helped me out. I have a lead to follow now,” she said.

“Good. At least this is keeping you busy.”

“Jeff, what do you know about Tracy’s parents?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Robert Doran asked me about her,” Lindsay said.

“Because of the picture?” Jeff asked.

“Yes, because of the picture,” she paused and added. “How did she end up with her grandparents?”

“I don’t know. I’ve met them several times. It’s never occurred to me to pry,” he said.

“Would you mind if I asked?”

“I really wish you wouldn’t. She’s a private person,” he said.

“I can respect that. I was just curious,” she said. She poured sauce onto the ribs to marinate. “How about you fire up the grill and cook these while I make the salad?”

“You have a deal,” he answered.

Lindsay was expecting Dixon Calhoun to call with the arson investigator’s update. What she didn’t expect was the news that came with it.

“The coroner is back out at the crime scene. They found another body,” Dixon said.

“Where was this body found?” Lindsay asked in a stunned voice.

“The crime techs were sifting through the area that the baby’s remains were found in. When he dug down a little deeper, there were more remains. They think it is the body of a young woman,” he answered.

“So, both bodies were buried underneath the house all of these years?” she asked.

“It appears so,” Dixon said.

Lindsay thought for a moment. “The police searched the house and property thoroughly when the Davenports were murdered, right?” she pondered out loud.

“They should have,” Dixon answered.

“So, were the bodies placed their after the Davenport murders?” she asked.

“Before,” he said confidently.

“How do you know that?” she asked, surprised that he answered so quickly.

“There was a decomposed purse buried with the woman. She had identification,” he said.

“Who was she?” Lindsay asked excitedly.

“Leticia Carlson. She lived in San Luis. She had a baby girl the approximate age of the baby found buried with her,” Dixon said.

“Does she have any next of kin that are still alive?” Lindsay asked.

“A brother in Toluca Lake,” he answered.

“Give me his name. I will talk to him,” Lindsay said.

“The police have already notified him.”

“How long ago did she disappear?”

“1953,” he answered.

Lindsay whistled. “That’s a long time ago. Any idea what happened to her?”

“The coroner says there was evidence on her skull that she was hit in the head,” Calhoun said.

“Was there a husband?” Lindsay asked.

“The brother, Fred Carlson, says no. No one knew who the baby’s father was,” he said.

“He didn’t have any idea?” Lindsay asked.

“I don’t know if anyone pressed him about it,” Calhoun answered. “I think the officer made notification and briefly asked a few questions. I don’t think anyone pushed the man for answers.”

“I’ll see if I can talk to him today,” Lindsay said.

“Keep me posted,” Dixon said and hung up the phone.

The house in Toluca Lake was an older Spanish-style home. Toluca Lake was a tree lined, affluent community located near the movie studios. Many of the residents were executives who worked in nearby Burbank.

Fred Carlson answered the door. He looked like he was in his late 60s or early 70s. He had a full head of gray, shoulder length hair and a gray beard. His hazel eyes were full of life. He was tall with the lanky, muscular body of a runner. He wore a polo shirt and shorts. He invited Lindsay in.

She started, “As I explained on the phone, I’m a private investigator working for Jeremy Davenport. He is the owner of the property your sister’s body was found on.”

“I understood that. I have lots of questions for you.”

“Can I go first?” she asked politely.

“Yes, what do you want to know?” he said.

“When did your sister disappear?”

“May 6th, 1953. She had just turned 18 the month before,” he said.

“She was young to have a baby,” Lindsay remarked.

“She had Janell right before she turned 17,” he said.

“Do you know who Janell’s father was?” she asked.

“My sister wouldn’t tell my parents,” he said with a sigh.

“Did you suspect anyone?” she asked.

“A couple of people,” he said. He ran his fingers through his thick hair and added. “She was running with a rich crowd back then. My parents thought it was either the Davenport kid or his friend, Van Buren.”

Lindsay sat up in her chair. “Do you mean Charles Davenport?”

“Yes, that’s who I mean. That brings me to one of my questions,” he said. “Is your client related to Charles Davenport?”

“Yes, Jeremy Davenport is Charles’ grandson.” She let that sink in for a moment and then asked him another question. “Is the friend Martin Van Buren?”

“Yes, that was his name,” Fred answered. “Both families were powerful families when we lived in San Luis.”

“So, you think that one of those men was Janell’s father?”

“Yes, my parents thought that. My sister was getting money to take care of the baby from someone,” he said.