Chapter 67

SIXTY-SEVEN

The call lasts only a few minutes. Ronnie asks Sitzman about what happened to Lucas's wife, and the answers are a whole lot more than we had bargained for.

It turns out Mrs. Lucas didn't just die. The official version of the story is that Joyce Lucas killed herself with a gunshot to the head; but not before killing their daughter, Maisy. Any instinctive sympathy I might have felt for Sergeant Lucas dissipates quickly as I read between the lines of the other things Sitzman has to tell us.

Like the fact Lucas's wife had a million-dollar life insurance policy, that he had returned to work only a few weeks after the deaths of his wife and kid, and that he had interfered a lot in the investigation while on leave. Sitzman doesn't come right out and say it, but he heavily implies that Lucas's ex-partner quit rather than be part of what he thought was a cover-up.

Ten minutes and a promise to go for coffee later, we drive away from the Mom & Pop store.

Ronnie says, "I can't believe no one said anything about this."

What I'm having trouble with is why Sheriff Longbow assigned this case to him. I don't get a bad feeling about Longbow. Or the jail commander, Roberts, for that matter. If we had known what we were just told I would have had a lot of questions.

I say, "I wonder if we can get copies of the murder/suicide investigation?"

Ronnie answers, "Sitzman might be able to access them but it sounds like Lucas was never much more than a suspect. He wasn't arrested or even suspended without pay. He was put on leave until the investigation was over and he was cleared."

He was cleared. How in the hell did that happen? Lucas's eight-year-old daughter was strangled, and his wife was shot with a gun from his lockbox at home. He lived in a cabin in the sticks. No neighbors to hear the gunshot or screaming or fighting. Lucas had taken out the insurance policy on himself and his wife five years earlier. One million dollars would have very high premiums. I have the insurance policy the sheriff office gave me. Twenty-five thousand won't go a long way but I'll be dead so it won't be my money. I've made Hayden my executor and everything will be left to him.

"Let's call Lucas's old partner, see if he'll talk to us."

Sitzman has texted the number for Lucas's old partner and Ronnie puts the call on speaker. Retired Detective Larry Stroud is sitting in a bar. I can hear darts being played and some occasional raised voices. His voice is a little slurred but he's willing to talk to us. The first thing I notice is there's no love lost between him and Lucas.

"So what can I tell you that I haven't told countless others? No one listens so what's the point," Stroud says. "Just let it go and save yourself some sleepless nights. What I did."

I ask, "Did you know the Marsh family on Cougar Point?"

"You're not from here, are you?"

I wait.

"Everyone knows them. Jack Marsh is a big shot around here. Does your interest in Lucas have something to do with Jack Marsh?"

Ronnie speaks up. "Victoria Marsh is my mother. She was kidnapped six days ago. Lucas was assigned the case by Sheriff Longbow."

Stroud is quiet.

"Sergeant Stroud?" I say.

"Retired," he says. "I wish you hadn't come to me asking questions about Lucas. I took an early retirement so I wouldn't have to be involved."

Ronnie speaks up. "We're pretty sure Len Thundercloud, Melissa Milligan, and Duke Scanlon are her kidnappers. They sent Mom's finger to us along with some pictures of her being held captive. Today they sent us her hand."

Stroud is still silent.

I say, "We heard you were a damn good detective. You don't get that kind of praise unless you care enough to do a good job. How would you like it if you came to me for help and I said I wanted to keep out of it?"

"Okay, you don't have to keep busting my balls. I was just thinking. I assume you do that." The phone sets down on a hard surface and I hear laughter and chatter in the background, Stroud gets back on the line. "Let me go outside so we can talk. This is a cop bar and some of 'em are friends with Lucas."

Stroud goes outside and traffic can be heard in the background and some wolf whistles. The whistles sound like they're coming from Stroud. "Now. Where was I? Oh yeah. I gotta tell you first off that if Duke and Thundercloud are involved, you got problems. Sorry, Detective Marsh. But those two aren't wrapped too tight. For that matter, Lucas isn't well-adjusted either. Maybe I shouldn't be talking about an old partner like this but if another woman's life is in danger, I'll spill all his secrets."

I'm growing impatient. Does everyone around here beat around the bush so much? "So tell us about Lucas's wife and daughter's deaths."

"Lucas's wife died from a gunshot wound to the head. Right temple. The daughter was only eight years old. She was smothered with a couch pillow. The little girl had fought very hard, so it would take some strength to hold her down on the hardwood floor."

The image he's planted will be in my head for days. Kids are my weak spot. Puppies are next in line.

"Were there other injuries on either victim?" Ronnie asks.

"There were. It didn't seem to matter to the sheriff. I still have copies of the coroner's report. I wanted an inquest but the sheriff nixed that. Longbow and Lucas are butt buddies. Fishing, hunting, gambling, drinking, and chasing tail. Excuse my language."

"What kind of injuries?" I ask.

"Old bruises. I got medical records on the sly after it looked like the investigation was going in the toilet. The wife was on antidepressants and had been in and out of therapy since the daughter was born. Of course the therapist wouldn't talk to me, but some of the neighbors were happy to spill. Lucas was one mean son of a…Sorry. Bad habit from when I was on the job."

"I understand," Ronnie said. "We do that all the time too."

Liar. Ronnie wouldn't say poop if she was knee deep in it. But she's doing good keeping this guy talking.

"Medical records showed past broken bones in her hands and feet. The little girl had the same things. The notes said the patients had tripped or ran into walls or doors. Clumsy is what the reports said. I asked Lucas about the injuries, and he got angry that the hospital gave me the records. No believable explanation of how those injuries had occurred."

I hear him take a deep breath before he continues. "This still pisses me off. If they'd have let me dig a little, Lucas would be behind bars."

"Tell us what you have. Maybe we can do the digging," I say.

"Who are you again?"

We give him our names and that we work for Jefferson County Sheriff.

"The kidnapping you're working is in Whatcom County. How'd you get permission to step on Lucas's toes like that?"

"Our sheriff and Longbow are acquaintances from a while back. Longbow deputized us."

He says, "Does Longbow know you're looking into Lucas?"

"Not yet," I answer, and he laughs out loud until he starts coughing.

He gets under control. "You'd better watch your back is all I can tell you. Okay, I'll fill you in on the case I was building against Lucas."

Larry tells us he responded to the police call to Lucas's place. When he arrived he got a bad feeling that the scene was staged. After thirty-five years in the job, he trusts his instincts. He didn't care much for Lucas even then but they made do. He said Lucas was always wanting more. More money. More women. More credit and glory. He was always talking about his investments and was on his phone constantly checking his stocks etc. It was annoying but when Lucas was working, he was one of the best detectives Larry had ever known. Sharp. Intuitive. And he had a cadre of snitches and people in high places that owed him favors.

Retired Detective Stroud tells us Longbow put Lucas on paid leave for several weeks while the deaths were investigated. Lucas was told to stay out of the investigation but he was interviewing the coroner and other officers that had worked the scene. Stroud saw the case was being shoved under the rug. The coroner ruled it murder/suicide, the wife killed the daughter and then killed herself, and that was that.

But Stroud wasn't satisfied. He called in some favors and found out Lucas had taken out a large life insurance policy on his wife five years before. He informed us that the insurance policy had a suicide rider. But that rider expired after eighteen months.

The insurance company had their own investigator look into the claim and the insurance investigator thought the same thing Larry did. This all stank. They managed to wriggle out of paying out on a technicality.

"How much did that cost Lucas?" I ask.

"A cool million," Stroud replies.

I let out a whistle. A million reasons to kill his wife, and it was all for nothing.

"And Sheriff Longbow didn't think this was all suspicious?" I ask. "The whole thing, and then the insurance not paying out?"

"I'm sure he did but it didn't matter. Lucas had an airtight alibi for the day of the deaths. He was with a snitch. The snitch was also one of Narcotics' confidential informants and he vouched for him."

"One last question, Larry. Was Lucas's wife right- or left-handed?"

"Now you're getting it. Left-handed. Look, I got to go. Good luck. We didn't talk." With that he hung up.

Ronnie puts her phone away. "Do you think Larry or Lieutenant Sitzman will tell Lucas we were asking questions about him?"

"Larry? Hell no. Sitzman? I'm counting on it."