Colt Crawford - Chapter 14 (Tuesday)

“Jailene Arroyo. Thirty five, single, rents a small apartment in Santa Barbara that she never uses. According to Mathis she’s rich, but there are no records of her anywhere.” Colt ticked off the little that they knew about their prime suspect.

“Don’t forget vindictive,” Krissy added. “And I think we can safely assume that the name is an alias. She’s also involved with Steven Mathis.”

“With Mathis out on bail, they could still be working together.” Colt thought back to the conversation they had had with Mathis at the police station. At the mention of her name his demeanor had changed. “No matter what he says, he still has the hots for her.”

Colt and Krissy were sitting at the small cubicle that Krissy called her office. There decor was somewhat bland, the beige walls interrupted only by the occasional memo that one of the detectives had posted as a reminder. Behind her, a freestanding white board told the story of the lives they were investigating. It began with a picture of Samantha Woods and progressed to Mathis, then to Kevin, the university bookie. Next to him was a photo of Jailene Arroyo. At the bottom was a final picture of Jasmine Kennedy, Mathis’ assistant who was attacked at the university.

Right in the middle, at the bottom of the board, was a picture of Creighton Ford. “We have two victims, one attempted suicide, and three suspects.” Krissy was really talking more to herself than to anyone in particular as she studied the photos. Then she looked right at Jailene’s picture and spoke to it. “Where are you, you little rich princess? Where do you hide?”

“She must know we are on to her by now. I would bet she’s using a new alias,” Colt said.

“Or she’s gone back to her real identity, which is where the money is,” Krissy speculated.

Krissy’s phone rang and she pulled it off the clip on her belt to answer it. “Malone,” she said without expression. “Where is it? I’ll be right there.”

“Uniforms just found a car with a banged up right front fender down by the beach.”

“And that makes them think it is the one that hit us last night? Don’t they need more evidence than just a banged up car?” Colt asked.

“Oh, yeah. Did I mention that Kevin was inside it? Dead.”

Colt could feel the whole case change in the blink of an eye. This had been an assault and battery case, not a murder investigation. Now the stakes had just been raised. Together they made their way to the parking lot and arrived at the scene within only a few minutes.

Sitting in the front seat of his 1992 Camaro was the body of a sturdy college boy with a troubled, yet bright future. Clutched in his arms, the detective noticed a manilla envelope. “Did you open the envelope?” Krissy asked the uniformed officer who had made the find.

“No, ma’am. We just pulled his ID online from the car’s plates. Haven’t touched the scene,” a well-trained young man replied.

Slipping her hands into white rubber gloves, Krissy examined the body. One gunshot wound to the center of his forehead. “Someone wanted him dead,” she commented as she reached down and carefully disengaged the envelope from the boy’s hands and lifted the flap. She glanced inside and gasped as she pulled out the contents.