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

idea.”
    Elle bristled. “I’m trying to protect my daughter.”
    “Has anyone called trying to collect?”
    “Yes.” Her eyes darted away. Elle plopped down, looking old and tired now instead of rich and well preserved. “I hired someone, a retired cop, to handle the calls for me. He says neither of the callers could produce any evidence they have Courtney.”
    “Who did you hire and where is he?”
    “His name is Roger Ingram, and he’s in the gym right now. So is Brooke, my other daughter.”
    Jackson didn’t recognize the cop’s name as he wrote it down. He’d been with the Eugene department nearly twenty years, so it was unlikely Ingram had been a local officer. “I’d like to talk to both of them before I leave.”
    “Of course. Is there anything else I can tell you?”
    “I’d like to know about Courtney’s social life. You mentioned a boyfriend yesterday. Tell me about him.”
    “Brett Fenton is a upstanding young man from a good family. He’s the first boyfriend Courtney has ever had who I could say that about.”
    “I’d like to talk to him. What’s his phone number?”
    Elle pulled a cell phone out of her pocket, searched through her contacts, and gave him the number.
    Jackson jotted it down. He thought about Danette’s boyfriend, Chad, and wondered if he was somehow connected to Courtney.
    “Does Courtney know a young man named Chad?”
    “I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t know for sure.”
    Jackson let it go. It seemed unlikely that Courtney and Chad would travel in the same circles. “How long have Courtney and Brett been a couple?”
    “About three months. They went to school together, so they knew each other casually before, but they met at a charity fundraiser in January. I am very happy about the relationship.” Elle gave him a look, as if warning him not to scare Brett off.
    “What about ex-boyfriends? Who was Courtney dating before?”
    Elle’s stiffened and her thin face went a shade paler. “Oh dear. Her last boyfriend went a little crazy when she broke it off. He started out a little crazy too. I think he snorted cocaine like it was an asthma treatment.”
    “His name?”
    “Courtney always called him Skeet, but I think his name was Steve.”
    “Do you know his last name or how to contact him?”
    “No.” She shook her head.
    “I need you to call around and find out if you can.” Jackson glanced at this notes. “I’d like to talk to Roger Ingram now.”
    The tall man in the blue tracksuit stepped off the elliptical machine and offered Jackson a sweaty hand. “Roger Ingram, retired Sacramento PD.”
    Jackson shook his hand, thinking that up close Roger looked sixty, but his hair looked thirty-five. “Wade Jackson, Eugene homicide detective.” Jackson glanced over at the young woman on the stairstepper in the back of the room.
    “That’s Brooke Durham, Courtney’s sister.”
    She looked up, gave Jackson a small smile, and went back to her workout.
    “Did you know the Durham family before this situation?” Jackson asked.
    “Elle and I met last year.”
    “Mind telling me how?”
    Ingram pulled back. “Am I a suspect?”
    “I like to know all the players and how they joined the game.”
    “I work part time as a private detective, selective cases only. Elle hired me to investigate one of Courtney’s boyfriends last June.”
    “Was his name Skeet or Steve?”
    “No. It was Tristan Chalmers. He was clean, but liked to party.”
    “Tell me about the calls you got this morning.” Jackson looked around the forty-by-forty gym for a bathroom.
    “The first guy sounded older and fairly rational, but he couldn’t produce any evidence he had Courtney.”
    “What did you ask for?”
    “I said to put her on the phone or send me a digital picture. He said to give him a few minutes. He never called back.” Ingram walked over to the small stainless steel refrigerator in the corner and grabbed a bottled water. “The next call came from two young men. Very