Free Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 03 - Thrilled to Death by L. J. Sellers Page A

Jackson. What’s up?”
    “Sergeant Lammers assigned me to Courtney Durham’s case.”
    Zapata looked surprised. “Ms. Durham must be throwing her weight around.”
    “Did you see her on the news last night?”
    “No. Did she make a public appeal?”
    “She offered money to get her daughter back.”
    “Oh shit.”
    “Why do you think she’s so desperate? I mean, since Courtney has a history of bad behavior that includes disappearing for days at a time?”
    “Maybe it’s a ploy to make her daughter feel guilty. You know, the look-what-you-put-me-through crap.” Zapata picked up a black zippered notebook.
    “Interesting. You’re headed out?”
    “I was going to stop by Diego’s and talk to the staff and show Courtney’s picture around.” He put the notebook down, unzipped it, and handed Jackson a photo. “If you’re taking the case, you might as well do the legwork.”
    “Taking this case wasn’t my idea.”
    Zapata grinned. “Better you than me. I don’t like wasting my time.”
    As Jackson pulled out of the underground parking lot, he thought about driving the few blocks to Diego’s, then changed his mind. Courtney had been to the club late in the evening. If he wanted to catch the bartender or cocktail waitress who had served Courtney or the customers who might have seen her, it would be best to stop in after nine this evening. He headed for the south hills instead.
    The Durham estate was off Fox Hollow on its own little street. From the bottom of the driveway, the building looked more like an elite luxury spa than a single-family home. Jackson guessed about five-thousand square feet. As he drove up, he spotted a tennis court off to the left. He parked in front of the four-car garage and felt the cameras on him as he trotted over to the main entrance. He’d called ahead and Elle Durham was expecting him.
    Still, the staff woman who answered the door said, “Ms. Durham is with her acupuncturist right now. She’ll be out in ten minutes. Please have a seat.” The woman started to walk away, but Jackson called out, “Excuse me. I need a moment of your time.”
    “Yes?” She looked surprised. She was in her fifties but looked well cared for and was comfortably dressed in black cotton slacks and pullover.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Helen Joseph.”
    “What do you do here?”
    “I’m the housekeeper.”
    “How long have you worked here?”
    “Sixteen years.”
    “When was the last time you saw Courtney?”
    “Late Monday afternoon. I saw her in the gym when I picked up the towels. I left here at five o’clock.” Her answer sounded practiced, as if she’d been through it a few times. She didn’t look worried.
    “What gym?”
    Helen pointed toward the back of the house.
    Of course they had a gym. “Do you have any idea where Courtney is?”
    “None.” She kept her face deadpan. Jackson suspected she had some interesting stories to tell, but sixteen years on the job meant she was loyal and discreet.
    “Thanks. I may have more questions later.”
    After she left, Jackson decided to look around. It was part of the job. The first two rooms he wandered into, a sitting room and a library, gave him little information except that the Durhams had more money than he’d realized. Hearing voices at the end of the second hallway, he headed in that direction. He needed to interview everyone in the household.
    Halfway down, Elle came out of an intersecting hall. “Hello again, Detective Jackson. Thank you for coming.” She grabbed his arm and steered him back the way she had come from. “Let’s talk in my office.”
    The floor-to-ceiling windows let in the April sun, bathing the peach walls in a soft glow. Jackson could see why she wanted to spend time here. Elle Durham spoke into an intercom and asked someone to bring coffee.
    Jackson decided not to let the meeting get too comfortable. “I saw your video on the news last night. Offering to pay a ransom before you get a demand is not a good