Rules of Crime (20 page)

“Other than dealing with one main tenant, no. I let the house leader handle the individual rentals.”

“Did you know the women accepted to live here are initiated with a violent hazing?”

He pulled back in surprise. “I had no idea. Is Taylor involved? Is that why you’re searching her room?”

Evans ignored his questions. “Do you know Lyla Murray?”

“No. Is she a tenant?”

“I believe she was about to become one, but now she’s in the hospital.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Hartwell glanced at his watch. “How much longer will you be here? I was on my way to a meeting.”

“Maybe another hour. I still need to get a statement from Caitlyn but you don’t need to stay.”

“Let me know if I can help in any way.”

Behind him, Caitlyn ran down the hall.

“Hey,” Evans called out. “I’m not done with you.”

Caitlyn kept moving.

CHAPTER 24

Tuesday, January 10, 10:52 a.m.

Jackson climbed into his car and started the engine, relieved to be out of the cold. He felt guilty that Quince was going door-to-door and Schak was searching Dakota’s vehicle, both in the cold, while he sat in his car with the heat on, perusing Dakota’s cell phone. Outdoor homicides in the winter were a bitch and they’d had several already this season. It was even worse for Parker, who would be outside most of the day.

The phone’s icon for missed calls was flagged, so Jackson looked at the log first. Her father, Ivan Anderson, had called at 8:05 that morning, and someone named Jacob Renaldi had called at 8:47. Jackson punched #1 and hoped her voice mail didn’t require a password. A canned message gave him some options, then Ivan Anderson’s frantic voice said, “Dakota, I’m worried sick. Please call me. I appreciate what you tried to do for me and Renee last night, so don’t think I’m upset. Just call me.”

Jackson waited through another annoying list of voice mail options, then a male voice came on. “It’s Jacob. I’m sorry about last night. Will I see you today? Call me.”

Who was Jacob Renaldi and what was he sorry about? The name and number went into Jackson’s notebook. If Renaldi was the boyfriend, it would save Jackson some digging around. He clicked open an icon for text messages and began reading. Renaldi had texted this morning with the same message, right after calling. He had also been the last person to text the night before at 10:48 p.m. Jackson opened their conversation and read:

Dakota: Can I come over? I think I just lost my job.

Jacob: Sure. What happened?

Dakota: Tell you then.

Jackson called the department on his own phone and asked a desk officer to find an address for Jacob Renaldi and get back to him as quickly as possible. Renaldi was likely the last person to see Dakota alive. While Jackson waited, he scrolled through a few more texts. Most were from women with names like Brittany, Katrina, and Ashley. They used abbreviations that often weren’t obvious to him, but mostly the texts were about getting together or gossip about another woman.

The desk officer called back with information: “Jacob Renaldi lives at 40855 Bailey Hill Road. He has no priors, except a minor-in-possession charge for alcohol when he was twenty. Anything else I can get you?”

“Repeat the address, please.” Jackson checked his note and made a correction. “Thanks.”

He clicked off and hurried across the street to the park.

Schak had his head in the trunk of Dakota’s silver Honda, so Jackson stood next to him, waiting. Finally, Schak stood and turned. “Nothing interesting. A set of golf clubs in the trunk and
a shopping bag with some shoes in the backseat. No blood, no drugs, no dog hair.”

“A gas receipt or fast-food container?” Jackson wanted to know where Dakota had been between the time she left the station and was killed in the park.

Schak shook his head. “I took photos of the stuff in the trunk and I’ll let it go to the crime lab with the car.”

“Makes sense.”

They heard footsteps and looked over to see Quince jogging toward them.

“Anything useful?” Jackson asked.

“Not a damn thing from the neighbors. And no one was in the park’s historic house, so I’ll have to check back and see if it was open to the public last night. Which I doubt.”

“What now?” Schak rubbed his head again. “We’ve never had a case where the suspect was a dog.”

“I need to update Agent River and she can tell Dakota’s father.” Jackson had a pang of guilt for passing that gut-wrenching task to someone else, but he was also relieved. “Then we need to find Jacob Renaldi. According to Dakota’s text messages, she went to see him last night after she left the TV station. I have a home address but see if you can find out where he works.”

“Anything for me right now?” Quince asked.

Jackson handed him Dakota’s phone. “Start calling everyone on her list. Find out who owns a dog.”

They each climbed into their car to get out of the cold, but sat there working their devices. Their jobs hadn’t become easier in the digital age, but the way they investigated had been simplified. Jackson pulled out his new computer tablet, got online, and went straight to Facebook. New technology had once intimidated him but now he appreciated it. If his city-issued Impala had been properly equipped, the little tablet wouldn’t be necessary. But this
was Eugene, with the most underfunded police force of any city of its size. After watching Evans make quick productive searches with her tablet, and sitting in his car yesterday wishing he had one, he’d stopped and bought one last night. Even his doctor used the device now. Which reminded him that he had a CAT scan scheduled soon and he needed to check his calendar.

Jacob Renaldi’s profile photo showed a close-up of an attractive man with a shaved head. A knowing smile played on the man’s mouth and Jackson distrusted him already. His Facebook page was lean and no-nonsense, as if it had just been posted, but the information section mentioned that Renaldi owned a business called Security First. Jackson googled it but found no Eugene connections.

A moment later, Schak trotted over with his awkward short-legged gait. “I can’t find anything on Renaldi.”

“Ever heard of Security First? Renaldi’s Facebook page says he owns it.”

Schak shook his head.

Jackson clicked off his tablet. “Let’s go check his home address.”

His phone rang; he saw that it was River, and braced himself for bad news. “Jackson here. What’s happening?”

“Another money drop is going down. We’ve got it handled but I thought you’d want to know.”

“Did you hear from Renee? Is she alive?”

“Yes. Anderson spoke to her.”

“Thank god.” The knot in his stomach loosened a little, but the need to be in two places still tore at him. “I’d like to participate, but we need to question Jacob Renaldi. He could be a suspect or witness in Dakota’s death.”

“Go pick him up. We’ll be fine.”

“I’ll send Detective Quince to assist. Where do you need him?”

“At the city bus station.”

“Will you break the news about Dakota to Anderson for me?”

“I did. He’s taking it hard.”

“What father wouldn’t?”

Jackson drove out Eighteenth Street, pushing the speed limit, with Schak following. They turned left at Churchill High School and started the slow climb up and across the hillside. New housing had been built at the Bertelsen junction but several lots in the little subdivision were vacant. The recession still had a grip on his community and the housing market had been slow to recover. Jackson hadn’t been out to this area since he and Renee had visited a nearby business to look at koi when they’d considered putting in a pond years ago. He passed a little market and slowed, figuring Renaldi’s place had to be along here somewhere. He spotted the address on a small sign and turned into a gravel driveway that led uphill into a grove of oak and fir trees. The driveway curved at the top and opened into a parking area in front of a newly constructed home. Jackson spotted buildings behind the house and a series of metal fences.

As he climbed from the car, he heard the barking.

Dogs. Lots of them.
A jolt went up his spine and he grabbed for his weapon. Renaldi was either a breeder or a boarder and it was starting to look like he knew exactly what had happened to his girlfriend the night before. Jackson reached back in and grabbed his taser, thinking he might need it for Renaldi. If a dog came at him, he’d simply put a bullet in it.

He watched the side yards for low fast movement and waited until Schak was at his side. There was nobody he’d rather be in a tight situation with.

“Sounds like this could be our man.” Schak had his taser in hand too.

“But what is Renaldi’s connection to Anderson and Renee?”

“Maybe there isn’t one.” Schak shrugged. “It might be just a tragic case of bad timing.”

Jackson had been thinking the same thing. “Ready?”

“You know I am.”

They strode up the cement walk, eyes darting to the paths leading to the kennels behind the house. The barking grew louder with each step.

Five feet from the front porch, the door flew open and Renaldi yelled, “You need an appointment!”

“No we don’t!” Schak called back.

“Detectives Jackson and Schakowski, Eugene Police.” Jackson noticed the dog standing silently behind Renaldi’s right side. Its head was level with the suspect’s belt and its hungry eyes were trained on Jackson. What the fuck kind of dog was it?

“Step out here but leave the dog in the house.”

“No. She stays with me.”

Jackson visualized Dakota’s shredded face and rage flared in his veins. “That thing is no match for two armed police officers. Do it a favor and step outside.”

“What is this about?” Renaldi hadn’t budged.

“Dakota Anderson is dead, and we’d like to ask some questions.”

Renaldi’s shoulders flinched but his expression didn’t change. “Dakota’s dead? How?”

“We’ll ask the questions.” Jackson suddenly became aware of how private the property was, an ideal location for keeping someone hostage. “We’d like to search for a missing woman as well.”

“There’s no one here but me and the dogs, and you’re not searching without a warrant.”

Jackson weighed the situation. They had no real reason to believe Renee was here. They might get a warrant to examine the
dogs in connection with Dakota’s death, but he couldn’t justify barging in to look for Renee. Not yet.

“Then you’re coming with us.” Jackson raised his voice just enough to be intimidating.

Schak stepped forward, taser held out.

“Keep your hands in front and come out of the house.” Jackson moved forward with his taser drawn as well, and his other hand on his gun.

Neither had to make good on the threat. Renaldi cursed under his breath, held his face in his hands for a moment, then gave the dog a command. He stepped outside and locked the door, then moved slowly down the steps toward them.

Jackson said, “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“There’s no need to cuff me. I’ll come peacefully and tell you what I can.”

“Give me the knife you’re carrying.” Jackson instinctively knew he was that kind of guy.

Renaldi passed him a large fold-lock hunting knife. “I want it back.”

“You’ll get it. Climb into the backseat and sit in the middle. I’ll lock you in for the ride downtown.”

Once Renaldi was in the car, Schak asked, “What about the dogs?”

“We need a court order to take impressions of all their teeth. We’ll leave ’em here and come back with a county vet and animal control specialist.”

“Did you see the size of that monster? I think it’s a mastiff, maybe mixed with something else, like a rottweiler.”

Jackson repressed a shudder. “I dread searching this place.”

CHAPTER 25

Tuesday, January 10, 1:45 p.m.

“Do we have a plan?” Schak stopped outside the interrogation room where Renaldi had been waiting for ten minutes.

“As much as I want him to tell us about Dakota’s death, whether it was homicide or criminal negligence, we can’t forget Renee. She’s still alive and this jackass might know where she is.” Jackson gulped his coffee, hoping the jolt of energy would hit him soon. It was too early to feel tired. “I’ll question Renaldi about Dakota, then I want you to jump in with a question about Renee every once in a while. See if we can catch him off guard.”