Chapter
Eighteen
I realized I was holding on to the counter for dear life. “What?” I said. “How could he be dead?” I walked over to the kitchen table and sank down into a chair. “What happened?”
“He and his partner were investigating a case. The guy they were questioning had a gun. He shot Detective Sykes and Sykes’s partner shot him. They both died at the scene.”
I stared at Mike for a moment before saying, “Don’t you find this a bit suspicious? Detective Sykes calls me to tell me he’s found something about my sister’s case, and then he’s shot and killed the same day? And what about Steven Hanks? Bodies certainly seem to be piling up, don’t they?” I felt devastated and angered by Sykes’s death. He’d listened to me when no one else would. Had I caused his death?
“Look, Sarah. It happens. It’s unfortunate, but Doug died in the line of duty. It has nothing to do with you. And Steven Hanks hanged himself because he faced the rest of his life in prison. Without drugs. He couldn’t handle it.” He shrugged. “He’s not the first junkie to kill himself in jail.”
“I find it hard to believe in all these coincidences.”
“If I didn’t think there was some merit to your concerns, I wouldn’t have come. Especially if I’m not being paid. I’m trying to honor my friend. I want to make sure every stone is turned over, and there isn’t a rush to judgment when it comes to your sister’s death. But we need to stay focused on the real facts. Doug’s death was caused by a drug dealer with a gun. That’s it.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I still find it very convenient.”
“Killing a law enforcement official is extremely serious. The investigation into an incident like this is beyond thorough. If there were any reason to be concerned, I would have heard about it. There’s no question. Doug was killed in the line of duty.”
I stood up from my chair as the teakettle began to whistle. “I realize Doug’s death is serious. So is murdering three people, Mike. And burning down someone’s house.” I took the kettle off the burner and put the tea bags in our cups. My hands trembled and my knees felt weak. No matter where I looked, I could see Doug Sykes’s face. I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Come over here and sit down,” Mike said. He propelled me gently back toward my chair. “I’ll finish getting the tea.”
“Thank you.” I sat down and tried to calm myself. “I just can’t seem to grasp it.”
“Can you remember what he said when he called?” Mike brought our cups to the table.
“Yes. He said that he’d discovered something. That he didn’t want to talk over the phone.” I sighed. “He told me to be careful. Not to talk to anyone I didn’t know about the case. To make people think I believed Steven Hanks killed Hannah.”
“And did you do that?”
“Yes. I’ve only talked to people I trust.”
I nodded. “Except you. He also said he planned to come to Sanctuary, but he said he’d call back and let me know when.”
Mike grunted. “I wish I had more information, but I don’t. He died before we had a chance to talk again. All he said was that he had reservations about Hannah’s murder. He wanted me to help him figure out what really happened.”
“Why would he ask you to help him?”
“We were friends, and he needed someone who could fly under the radar. Bucking your own colleagues’ theories isn’t the way to win friends and influence people at the department. Before I retired, Doug and I used to work together. He trusted me.”
“So he might have made someone angry? Someone who didn’t want him to get involved in Hannah’s case?”
Mike sat down next to me. “Look, Sarah, you’ve got to listen to me. If Detective Sykes was murdered, his partner would know. He was right there. He said a guy high on drugs pulled out a gun and shot Doug. Not a hit man. Not someone who knew your sister.”
“All right.” I was confused. Was Mike right? Was I trying to create a connection where there wasn’t one?
“Let’s talk about your sister’s murder. Doug and I never got the chance to get into the specifics. I have some sketchy details from a media liaison at the police department, but they’re not very helpful. Basically all I have is . . . nothing.”
Mike took a sip of tea. If it had been any other afternoon, I might have found it almost amusing to see this large, tough-looking man sipping tea from a small china cup. But right now, I wasn’t in the mood to be amused.
“I want to hear in your own words why you think your sister’s death wasn’t the result of a burglary,” Mike continued. “The last thing I want to do is cause you any more pain, but you should know right up front that unless I find credible evidence that there’s really something here beyond an unfortunate burglary, I’m done. And I’ll encourage you to let it go. Do you understand?”
I frowned at him. “Before I answer your question, I have to ask you one. You don’t look old enough to retire.”
“I retired because I was injured. However, I like to keep my hand in law enforcement, so I decided to become a private investigator. I haven’t actually put out a shingle. I only take cases that interest me. Like this one. Maybe.”
“You look healthy. Can I ask . . . ?”
“Sure. I was chasing a guy one day and fell jumping over a fence. Tore my ACL. I can still get around, but my insurance wouldn’t cover me in the field anymore. Instead of sitting at a desk, I took my pension. I do PI work when I need a little extra money. That’s all there is to it.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry you were hurt.” I took a drink from my cup and put it back on the saucer. His story had lessened my concerns somewhat. After taking a deep breath, I began to recount my reasons for believing my sister hadn’t been murdered by Steven Hanks or any other burglar. I told him about Hannah’s letter, but I didn’t mention her phone or anything else I wasn’t confident Paul wanted me to share. For now, the phone would stay between Paul and me, since the police could say we withheld evidence. Besides, it would soon be on its way to Kansas City. If Paul wanted to tell Mike what he’d found on Hannah’s phone, he’d have to do that on his own.
Mike stopped me several times and asked questions. When I finished, he was silent for quite a while. I picked up our cups and made another cup of tea for both of us.
“I’ll look into this more carefully,” he said finally, “but I’m not completely convinced.”
I sighed as I brought our cups back to the table. “So you think finding the very same flowers at both crime scenes, my sister sending me a letter telling me her life might be in danger, and then her house burning down is all coincidence?”
He studied me for a moment, obviously trying to come up with an answer. “I can’t explain it. Janet tells me you’re friends with a local deputy sheriff? A Paul Gleason?”
“He’s trying to help me, but since he has no jurisdiction with the police in Kansas City, his assistance is more moral support than anything else.”
“Still, he’s a professional. If he has concerns about this case, I’d like to hear them.”
“Then you’ll look into it with an open mind?”
He nodded. “I’d like to stay in or near Sanctuary for a few days. I’ll do some poking around. See what I can find. I also want to go over your parents’ murders carefully. Hear everything you can remember. What your sister told you she remembered. And I’d like to talk to her daughter. Is that possible?”
His request caught me up short. I was trying to protect Cicely. Did I really want to pull her into this?
Mike noticed my indecision. “I realize it may be hard for her, but she spent more time with her mother than anyone else. She might know something that could help. If it makes you feel any better, I know how to talk to kids. We’re trained to handle them. You can trust me.”
I sighed. “It isn’t you. It’s just . . . well, this has been so traumatic for her. I’m afraid talking to you could send her spiraling away from me again.”
“The decision is yours, but it could be very important.”
“Will you let me think about it?”
“Sure. Why don’t we call it a night? I’d like to talk to you more tomorrow. I need you to gather together any papers or anything else that might be important to this case. I want everything you’ve got. Something that doesn’t seem important to you might be a clue that could send me in the right direction.” He took a sip of tea. “Did your sister have a cell phone?”
I took a quick breath before answering. “She did, but the police didn’t find it at the crime scene.” It wasn’t a lie.
He looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Most thieves wouldn’t steal a cell phone. Unless it’s one of those high-dollar jobs, they’re not worth much.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t own a cell phone so I don’t know much about them.”
He nodded. “I understand. Her laptop was missing?”
“Yes. Have you seen all the reports?”
“Doug gave me access to them, but I only had time for a brief look before he was killed. The police won’t be any help from here on out. I’m afraid we’re on our own.”
“You think everyone in Kansas City accepts that Hannah was killed by some guy who thought her little rental house in a lower-middle-class neighborhood looked like someplace to score a fortune?”
He shrugged. “It looks that way. Steven Hanks fits the bill perfectly.”
“But what about evidence?”
“They probably have it.”
My mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “They wouldn’t close the case without some kind of proof. Just because they haven’t shared it with you doesn’t mean they don’t have it.”
“But this is my sister. Why wouldn’t someone contact me?”
“I suspect they will. With Doug’s death, everything’s been pushed back.”
I blinked back tears. “I’m not trying to be difficult, Mike. I just want some answers. Some justice for my family.”
“You might not get it, Sarah,” he said gently. “You should be prepared. But before we worry about that, let’s see if we can at least find out what really happened to Hannah.”
“Okay.”
He sighed. “Now I need to find a motel nearby.”
“Esther Lapp, the lady who lives next door, would probably put you up. She loves company.”
Mike grinned. “I think I saw her out on her front porch earlier. Pretty sure she and I wouldn’t make good roommates. Janet told me there’s a nice motel in Fredericktown. It’s not too far away. I’ll go there.”
“We’d let you stay here, but the only room we have is used as a sewing room. If you’d be happy on a cot . . .”
“Thank you, Sarah. Really. But I like to smoke a cigar in the evenings, and I’m not opposed to a couple of drinks before bed. Don’t think I’d fit into the Sanctuary mold. Better for everyone if I stay somewhere else.” He frowned. “You teach tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Yes. School lets out at three. I can talk to you after that.”
“Okay. I really want to pick your brain.”
He stood up, so I walked him to the door.
“Can you ask your friend Paul to meet with us too?” Mike said.
“I guess, but I don’t want him to get in any trouble.”
“Talking to me won’t cause him problems. Remember, I’m not the police. I’d just like to hear what he thinks.”
“Okay. Why don’t I ask him to dinner tomorrow night? You can talk to him afterward.”
“Sounds good.”
I followed Mike to the door. As he put his hand on the doorknob, I decided to ask him a question that had been bothering me ever since he’d told me about Detective Sykes.
“Mike, if you’re wrong and Doug Sykes was killed because he started digging into my sister’s case, doesn’t that mean you might be in danger as well?”
He turned around and frowned at me. “Actually, that would mean we’re both in the line of fire, wouldn’t it?”
With that he walked out the door and went to his car. His words reverberated in my mind as I watched him drive away.