The Slowest Death Read online

  “You don’t have to answer that,” Sully said.

  Jack asked, “Was Sonny working last night?”

  “Don’t answer that, Mindy,” Sully said.

  “It’s okay, Sully,” Mindy said. “Sonny ain’t been at home for a couple of days.”

  Before Sully could object again, Jack asked, “When did Mr. Sullis get here?”

  “Detective, I don’t see what—” Sully said and Jack interrupted.

  “Mr. Sullis, I’ll take you to headquarters and read you your Miranda rights and call the prosecutor and maybe the news media because the public has a right to know what a shit you’re being. You can sue the hell out of me if you like.”

  Sully rubbed his temple when Mindy said, “Sully, I want to talk to them. I need to know. I appreciate you lookin’ out for me, but shut up.”

  Sully leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

  Jack didn’t think Mindy had killed Sonny, but Sully was being overly defensive. It didn’t make sense.

  “When did Mr. Sullis get here, Mindy,” Jack repeated.

  “Sully came yesterday morning,” she said and smiled at Sully. “Sonny didn’t come home two nights in a row. He always came home before, didn’t he? Only not this time.”

  “You say Sonny didn’t come home for two nights. Did you call Sully, or did he come on his own?” He wondered where Sully had slept. From the way Sully was acting, Jack also wondered if Sully was giving Mindy more than legal advice.

  “Sonny’s been acting kind’a funny the last couple weeks. But he’s never not come home, ya’ know,” Mindy said.

  She didn’t say who initiated this visit, but in either case it didn’t explain why Sully was here.

  “Has Sonny ever gone missing before? I’m asking because you said he always came back. Back from where?”

  “Sonny watched people. What’s that called?” Mindy said.

  “Surveillance,” Jack said.

  “Yeah. He worked some nights doing that kind of shit—excuse my language. You’re going to think I’m a potty mouth.”

  “It’s okay. Please continue,” Jack said.

  “Sometimes he was gone overnight. I’m sure you’ve been on those things. You know, my Sonny always talked about you.”

  Jack said, “Go on.”

  “He was never gone more than a night unless he told me he was gonna be gone a while. Sometimes he was off fishing for a week. He took his boat to some lake in Kentucky. He has a boat, you know?” she asked and winked at Jack. “Really nice. But I get seasick. Sonny said I could get seasick in the shower. So I never went with them.”

  Jack was about to steer her back to the present when she said, “He’s got a really nice boat, don’t he, Sully?”

  Sully didn’t say anything and Mindy continued reminiscing. “Sully’s the one who introduced us. They’re like best friends.”

  Sully still said nothing.

  “Twice a year. They took his boat and would be gone for a week. But I always knew where he was, didn’t I,” she said in Sully’s direction, not quite a question. “He caught murderers in Boston. Went out and raided places. But after we moved here he promised me he’d never do anything dangerous. I told him I wouldn’t stand for it. I told him if he got himself hurt I wouldn’t stay. I told him…” She stopped talking and tears welled in her eyes.

  “You’re saying that you’d know if he was watching people the last few nights?” Jack asked.

  “Oh yeah. I would’a known.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  Jack found a box of tissues. He gave her several and she smiled.

  “You’re a real gentleman. My Sonny was right about you, wasn’t he?”

  “Gentleman Jack,” Liddell said.

  “He never told me who or where, but he always told me. He was a swell guy.” Her eyes grew wide and she said, “He got shot at once! Did you know that?”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “That was part of the reason we moved here,” she said and stared into space. “He never told me what happened.”

  Jack could tell by her eyes that she was lying. Why?

  “He got mad at me for even asking. It wasn’t long and we were moving here. He said he’d already found a job and I wouldn’t have to work at the bar no more. Did I tell you I worked at a bar in Boston?”

  She lit another cigarette, took a puff, watched the end burn, and said, “He lived in a trailer until the house was built. I stayed in Boston for a while.”

  She smiled at a memory and said, “He built some of this stuff himself. He did that tiki bar outside. He’s got a regular woodworking shop out behind the garage. He was…” Her words trailed off.

  Sully laid an arm across Mindy’s shoulders. “Do you want to lay down, Mindy? You’ve had a shock. These men can come back later.”

  Mindy said, “He always came home, didn’t he?” She poured another glass of wine and took a drink. “His people ought’a know what he was doing. They was all close, ya know. You talked to Jerry yet? Jerry would know.”

  That reminded him that Jerry and the others on the Task Force were waiting.

  “When was the last time you saw or talked to Sonny?” Jack asked.

  Mindy took a deep drag off her cigarette, sucked the smoke into her lungs and eyed Jack as she slowly released it. “Let me think a minute,” she said, and began a hacking cough that turned into what Jack called a smoker’s death spasm. When she could get her breath, she tried to continue, squinted at Jack, holding a palm out in a “wait a second” gesture, and gave a few more hacks. Jack once saw a cat do the same thing, only it wasn’t smoking.

  Mindy downed the wine and poured the glass almost to the top again before continuing. “Sonny called the first night he was gone. That was a few days ago. No, it was day before yesterday. I don’t really remember. But I was mad at him still, wasn’t I? You should talk to Jerry. I tried to call Sonny last night but his phone was turned off.”

  Sonny’s cell phone… Jack would check with Sergeant Walker. Zack didn’t have it, but Jack hadn’t searched the girl very thoroughly.

  Sully said, “I think that’s enough. We’ve cooperated with you.” To Mindy he said, “I’m strongly advising you not to answer any more questions.” He handed Jack a business card.

  Jack read it. Vincent Sullis. Attorney at Law. Boston, Massachusetts. “You’re from Boston?”

  “That’s what it says on the card.”

  “Did you drive here?” Jack asked.

  “We’re done here,” Sully answered.

  Jack handed the card to Liddell. “Time to leave.”

  Mindy followed the men to the front door with Sully attached to her like a Siamese twin.

  As Jack stepped outside he turned to Mindy. “Mindy, we may need to talk to you again.”

  “Do you need me to…to identify Sonny?” Mindy asked.

  Jack didn’t think that was a good idea. Sonny was messed up. But it gave him an idea how he could get Mindy alone.

  “We’ll wait for you to get dressed and take you to the morgue,” Jack offered. He could let a Juvenile detective talk to Zack and Dayton. Sonny’s crew could wait too. He had the feeling there were more answers here. Something didn’t add up.

  Sully stepped outside and placed himself between Jack and Mindy. “Should she need to go, I’ll take her. She should be with a friend.”

  Mindy blurted out, “Maybe two weeks ago. We went to eat at The Log Inn. Sonny knew it was my favorite place. While we was eating, Sonny’s phone dinged. You know that kind of ding when there’s a message. Anyway, he just didn’t seem okay. Like he was scared. I never seen him scared before. He went outside and came back and I said to him, “What?” And he said, “I got to do something.” And that was that. He took me home and he went out.”

  “Two weeks ago?” Jack asked. “Do
you know what day and what time?”

  Jack was thinking he could get Sonny’s phone records and find out who he had talked to.

  “It was a Friday night. Had to be after five. I don’t know exactly. Is it important?”

  “Maybe,” Jack said. “Did you find out who it was?”

  “Nah. But he got a call here the last time he was home. He went out by the pool and got his keys and took off in that truck of his. He was proud of that truck. He ain’t never had a new truck before he came here. Or a boat. Sometimes I thought he liked them more than me. But he got me this house, didn’t he?”

  She was rambling. Jack tried to get her to focus. “When he left did he say anything? What was his mood like?”

  “He was acting anxious. He was anxious a lot lately.”

  Sully said, “Mindy, I think...”

  “Go on,” Jack prodded.

  She said, “I thought maybe it was another woman. I thought that’s who ding’d Sonny while we were at The Log Inn and he was scared I would find out. Later he got the call here and he seemed kinda put out, mad. He took off in a hurry. I thought maybe she was threatening him, you know. I knew some guys, some cops, in Boston that cheated on their girlfriends and got caught. One guy’s girlfriend caught them in bed together and shot him with his own gun. He had it coming, I said to Sonny. But I couldn’t believe Sonny would do that to me.” She deliberately let her robe fall open and asked, “I ain’t so hard to look at, am I?”

  Jack sidestepped her question and asked, “What was Sonny like after the call at The Log Inn? Did he do anything unusual? You said he was scared.”

  “Nah. Well. He started putting guns everywhere; in the bathroom, under his pillow, on top of the refrigerator. He wasn’t never like that. Not even that time he got shot at. Not the whole time we was together.”

  Jack said, “One more question, Mr. Sullis. You said you got a call from your secretary this morning. That’s in Boston, I take it?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How did they know about the murder?” Jack asked.

  Sully’s face turned red. “You got me there. Okay, it wasn’t my secretary that called. I’ve got other friends here in common with Sonny. I’m not telling you who called. I don’t want you harassing them.”

  “Why did you come to Evansville? When did you arrive? Where are you staying?” Jack asked.

  Sully said, “You’d better leave, now.”

  “Mindy, if you need to talk, or you remember anything else, just call me or Liddell. Call the department. They know how to reach us. Anytime. Okay?”

  Sully shut the door on them before she could respond.

  * * * *

  Back in the Crown Vic, Jack cranked up the heat.

  Liddell said, “She never asked where we found him. Or how he was killed.”

  “Sully didn’t ask either. He knew Sonny was murdered before we got here and he didn’t want to give up the name of the person that told him. We don’t know how long he’s been here.”

  “Mindy said she thought Sonny was cheating on her. Maybe she wanted Sully to talk to Sonny and see what was what. Maybe it’s just a coincidence Sully’s a lawyer. But he could have done all that stuff on the phone. Why come all the way from Boston?” Liddell asked.

  “Maybe a lot of money is involved,” Jack suggested. “They’re not married. This is her dream house.”

  “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Liddell offered.

  Jack said. “Maybe Mindy and Sully have something going.”

  “Let’s explore that,” Liddell mused. “Sonny and Mindy aren’t married. He was going to kick Mindy to the curb. Leave her penniless. Sully to the rescue. He seemed like more than a friend.”

  Jack said, “Mindy might have a reason to kill Sonny. Sully seems capable of murder. But she seemed genuinely surprised when she realized Sonny was murdered. It would be hard to fake that expression, even drunk.”

  “Or maybe that’s why she was that drunk,” Liddell said. “Where to now?”

  “Let’s go back downtown and question Zack. We still have to talk to Sonny’s crew.”

  Chapter 9

  Jack spoke to Lilly Caskins at the morgue while he drove to headquarters.

  “Lilly?”

  “Jack?” she said. “Now that we know who we’re talking to maybe you can get to the point. I’m kind of busy watching mold spores grow on our budget request.”

  Liddell could hear the conversation and chuckled.

  “Sonny’s girlfriend is Mindy Middleton…” Jack said.

  “That’s nice to know,” Lilly said. “Are you going to tell me who his dentist is? Or maybe his banker?”

  “Lilly. I’m calling to ask you to call Miss Middleton, Sonny’s live-in girlfriend, and her attorney to come identify the body.”

  “She doesn’t need an attorney for that.”

  “I know. I’m the one that suggested it,” Jack said before she cut him off again.

  “So why in the hell would you do that? We know who he is. We don’t need a troop of people getting in the way.”

  “I’m trying to tell you.” Bitch! “I want to get Mindy away from her attorney for a few minutes. She wants to talk but he doesn’t want to let her.”

  “I eat attorneys for breakfast,” Lilly said. “Why didn’t you just say that’s what you wanted? You always go the long way around.”

  Jack took a deep breath. “Can you tell them you need them in an hour? We need to do something else first.”

  “I can give you all day.”

  “Just an hour will do, Lilly,” Jack said, but she had already hung up.

  “Pleasant as always, our Little Casket,” Liddell said.

  “Let’s go to Juvenile and talk to Zack and Dayton.”

  * * * *

  Zack Pugh and Dayton Bolin were being held in the Juvenile Detectives Unit where day shift handled the bulk of the complaints—runaways, missing, thefts, underage drinking, drugs—and spent a lot of their time dealing with Child Protective Services.

  Jack and Liddell found Juvenile Detective Tom Woehler leaned back in a chair at his desk with a phone jammed against his ear, nodding, saying few words, and rolling his eyes at what must have been a very one-sided conversation. He hung up and said to Jack, “CPS” as if that explained anything.

  “Any luck finding Zack’s parents?” Jack asked, hooking a thumb toward Zack, who was sitting in front of Woehler’s desk looking even cockier, if that was possible.

  Woehler said, “Zack’s father stays scarce. Mom’s not in the picture. Zack’s been here a few times.” He asked Zack, “Isn’t that right?”

  “You getting senile, old man?” Zack said.

  Woehler continued, “Nothing bad. Couple of thefts, trespassing, fighting. Today I find out the girl’s parents have a restraining order to keep him away from their daughter.”

  Zack interrupted him. “That’s only outside of school. I got a right to go to school.”

  “You weren’t in school this morning,” Woehler pointed out.

  “That paper don’t mean shit and the judge is full of it. Dayton loves me and I love her. We’re like Romeo and Juliet.”

  Woehler said, “Zack’s dad has a record. Aggravated battery with injury, drunk and disorderly, a couple felony drunk-driving arrests. He went up for negligent manslaughter around the time Zack was born. Drove a motorcycle through the glass doors of a tavern because they cut him off and told him to leave. There was a passenger on the back of the motorcycle at the time. The passenger died.”

  “Where is your father?” Jack asked.

  “I’m not talking to you, asswipe,” Zack said.

  Woehler said, “We beat on his dad’s door. No answer. The neighbors wouldn’t admit they even knew him. We’re checking taverns, but he’s probably passed out drunk in the house. Hey. Wan
t to go kick the door?”

  “Not me,” Jack said. “Any chance a judge will declare Zack a ward of the court?”

  “I said I’m not talking to any of you,” Zack leaned back in the chair. “I been a ward of the high and mighty court and I know I don’t have to talk to you.”

  Woehler said, “I’ve already sent the papers to Judge Knight. He’ll probably give you the warrant.” Woehler checked his watch. “Let’s talk to Dayton and her folks.” To the unit secretary, he said, “Keep an eye on him for me.”

  “I got to go to the bathroom, Mister Detective, sir,” Zack said.

  “You can’t wait?” the secretary asked.

  “Dr. Oz said holding it when you gotta pee will cause postate problems. I don’t need my postate going bad,” Zack said, grinning.

  “Your ‘postate’ huh?” Woehler said and grinned at Jack. “I guess I have to take him to pee before his ‘postate’ falls out. Dayton’s parents are waiting in the soft interview room. I’ll be right back.”

  The ‘soft’ interview room was where children under the age of eight, or with special needs, were generally kept until they could be taken to CPS or released to a family member. These children were usually the victims of abuse. In this case, the use of the soft interview room was appropriate considering the trauma of seeing the body.

  They entered the room. Dayton’s father was in his late thirties, solidly built, wearing a dark power suit, white button-down shirt, red tie and highly polished wing tip shoes. His arm was around Dayton’s shoulders. The wife sat on her daughter’s other side, hands clenched in her lap. Except for the mother’s deeper tan, Jack couldn’t have told mother and daughter apart from a distance. The mother’s clothing said “classy” and made you examine your own lack of taste.

  “I’m Detective Murphy,” Jack said. “This is Detective Blanchard.”

  Mr. Bolin’s handshake was a vise grip. Mr. Bolin was obviously a gym rat. Jack had known a PT instructor like him at the police academy. The guy even exercised his jaw and neck muscles. Imagine the cartoon character, Popeye, without the ever-present can of spinach. He asked Jack, “Do I get to talk to him? Just a few minutes.”