Chapter Four #2
“The bounty hunters are looking for a guy named Reece Miller,” Ronan told his boss over the phone as he merged onto the 101 outside Willits, heading south to the Sonoma County Jail in Santa Rosa.
He’d spent most of the drive so far getting info on Miller from the San Francisco PD.
“Cliff is doing a deeper background check on him while I interview Dianne’s nephew, but so far we know that Miller’s a white male, thirty-three years old, six-two, and two hundred pounds.
He grew up in Fort Bragg but moved to San Francisco after he was released from prison.
Got arrested right out of high school and served three years in Solano for B&E and robbery.
He’s currently wanted for shooting a San Francisco security guard during a robbery and a bystander during a carjacking as he escaped. ”
Howard sounded thoughtful. “Was Dianne Foster his teacher?”
Ronan had known that Howard would immediately see the connection.
“She was. Lambert and Randolph seemed genuinely surprised and unsettled that Dianne was murdered, but I know they know more than they’re saying.
Randolph nearly gave me additional details, but Lambert stopped her.
I was frustrated, but I let it drop for now. ”
“Do you think that Randolph will talk to you if you get her alone? Away from her partner?”
“Maybe. Lambert didn’t even want to tell me Miller’s name, but Randolph insisted.”
“What else do we know about Reece Miller?”
“He jumped bail two weeks ago, and SFPD said that his wife had also disappeared. They think she’s with him. Her name is Wendy Miller and she’s only nineteen.”
“Thirty-three and nineteen is quite an age gap.”
“Especially since they have a child together, a toddler, about a year old. They started dating when she was sixteen and he was thirty.”
“So he’s a thief and a pedo.”
“Seems like. SFPD also said that their baby has PKU—phenylketonuria. She requires medication and sees specialists in San Francisco. Wendy’s parents are anxious to find the baby. They want custody as they don’t believe Wendy is providing adequate care.”
“Once we find Reece and Wendy, her parents will get their chance at custody. What did he steal in San Francisco?”
“Three paintings and some jewelry from an art gallery. The jewelry and two of the paintings were recovered from pawnshops. The remaining painting hasn’t been found yet. And that painting was by far the most valuable thing he stole. There’s a thirty-thousand-dollar reward for it.”
“Which Lambert and Randolph didn’t mention,” Howard said dryly.
“No, sir, they did not. But SFPD also thought it was odd that Miller didn’t clean out Dianne’s cash register. I’ll know more after Cliff’s done with Miller’s background. I want to know if Reece Miller and Dianne’s nephew Zach Gough knew each other.”
“Good idea. They’re about the same age.”
“True. They would have known each other in high school. Both have done time. It’s not inconceivable that their paths have crossed in recent years. But I think the bounty hunters are also a good bet for information. They know a lot more than they’re saying.”
“When you get back from the jail, tail them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sonoma County Jail
Santa Rosa, California
Wednesday, January 21, 12:30 p.m.
Ronan’s phone began to ring as he parked his SUV in the jail’s visitor lot. It was a number that looked vaguely familiar. “This is Detective Clarke,” he said, hoping that would scare off any would-be scammers or telemarketers.
“Detective, this is Jonas Parker, attorney to Dianne Foster.”
Excellent. Ronan had been waiting for this call. “Thank you for calling me back. I’m investigating Mrs. Foster’s death.”
“I know,” Parker said sadly. “I can’t believe this happened. She was my client for decades and my friend for even longer. How can I help you with your investigation?”
“What can you tell me about Dianne’s estate? Who stands to inherit?”
“She had no blood family except for Zach Gough. He’s currently serving a ten-month sentence at the jail in Santa Rosa.”
“I know. I’m there now, about to notify him and question him.”
Parker sighed. “He broke Dianne’s heart so many times.
At one time he was her sole beneficiary, but she changed that seven years ago when Zach went into rehab for the third time.
Her late husband made a lot of money in real estate, which was how she bought the inn, and she had some retirement funds that she hadn’t started dipping into yet.
Other than the inn, she had only a modest estate.
She made Mary Walker her primary beneficiary.
Mary was to have received the inn and all the property, along with a small sum for operating expenses.
The remainder of Dianne’s estate was divided into bequests to the women’s shelter and the animal shelter in Fort Bragg. ”
“Was to have received?” Ronan asked. “Did Dianne change her will again?”
“Yes, about six months ago, but Mary still receives the inn and the property. The operating expense budget was significantly reduced. The charitable contributions remained the same. Dianne took the money from the operating expense budget and put it in a trust for Zach. I’m the executor.
The trust may only be used for his living expenses, and he’s not to have direct access to the money.
It will be my responsibility to write the checks for Zach’s rent and food once he’s out of jail.
If he’s known to be using again, I can withhold funds from the trust.”
“Did Mary know she was getting the bulk of the estate?”
“Not to my knowledge. Surely you don’t consider Mary Walker a suspect?”
Ronan was quick to reassure him. “No. But I need to understand the total picture. What about Zach? Did he know he’d been added back in?”
“Again, not to my knowledge. He knew he’d been cut from the will before. Dianne planned to tell him of her change of heart when he was released from jail. He still has three months to serve on his sentence.”
“So Dianne did this change a month after Zach was incarcerated.” This time. This would be Zach’s third stay in a county jail. His sentences were always under a year, which wasn’t long enough to send him to the state prison, unlike Reece Miller who’d served a few years in Solano, near San Francisco.
“Yes. Her intent was to pay his living expenses when he was released, but never to give him cash outright.”
“He would have just snorted it or smoked it.”
“Yes,” Parker said with regret. “Addiction is a terrible thing. Dianne wanted to help her nephew without tempting him with money he could use for drugs.”
“She was kind that way. No one else, except for the two shelters, will receive any assets?”
“That is correct.”
“Thank you for cooperating so fully,” Ronan said. “This is very helpful to know.”
Zach didn’t think he’d inherit money, so that minimized his motive, but it didn’t eliminate it. He could have been angry with Dianne for cutting him out. But why wait seven years to punish her?
He hoped Zach would be able to shed more light on their relationship.
“Good luck, Detective. Let me know if I can be of further assistance.”
“Will do.” Ronan ended the call and entered the jail, surrendering his gun and personal belongings. He wondered what Zach Gough would have to say for himself.
The young man was waiting in an interview room, hands folded sedately on the table in front of him. He appeared calm, his eyes clearer than Ronan had seen them in some time.
Ronan realized that he was clean for the first time in years. He wondered if Dianne had known.
Zach frowned when he saw Ronan. “Detective? Why are you here?”
He’d asked the warden not to inform Zach who he’d be seeing and why. He wanted to see Zach’s reaction to the news of his aunt’s murder.
Ronan took a seat across the table. “Zach, you’re looking good.”
Zach nodded. “I’m sober. Finally. Why are you here?”
Ronan drew a breath. There was no easy way to impart this kind of news. “Your aunt’s dead, Zach.”
Zach’s back went ramrod straight, his face immediately shocked. “What?”
If the kid was acting, he was damn good, Ronan thought. “She’s dead. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Zach shook his head hard. “No. Not possible. I just talked to her last week. She was fine.” Then he sucked in a breath. “Wait. Why are you here? Why didn’t the warden just tell me?”
But, based on the horror filling his eyes, Ronan could see that Zach had figured it out. “She was murdered, Zach. At the inn. Yesterday morning.”
Zach’s throat worked as he sat silently. Tears filled his eyes. “No,” he whispered. “This can’t be happening. She was the only one who ever loved me.”
Sadly, that was probably true. Zach’s parents had been heavy drug users, first of marijuana, then harder substances. Both had died of overdoses, leaving Dianne to raise Zach.
“She did love you,” Ronan said quietly. “Do you know of anyone who wanted to hurt her?”
Zach’s eyes widened, growing more horrified. “Not me. Not ever. She was the reason I finally got clean.”
“All right.” He didn’t know if Zach was telling the truth, but he sounded sincere. “But do you know of anyone else?”
“No. I…” He closed his eyes, sending tears streaking down his face. “How?”
“Someone hit her in the head with a trophy.”
“Her best inn award?” Zach whispered.
“Yes.”
Zach dropped his head, a sob shaking his shoulders. “She was so proud of that award. That it was used to hurt her…” Then his head snapped up, his face a picture of misery. “Did she suffer?”
“I don’t know. Initially, perhaps, but the coroner hasn’t finished her autopsy yet.” Ronan was expecting those results sometime today. “Zach, do you know a man named Reece Miller?”
Zach blinked. “Who?”
“Reece Miller.”
Frowning, Zach nodded slowly. “I went to school with him. He was bad news.”
“How?”
“Got sent away to juvie for a few years.”
“What did he go to juvie for?”
Zach’s brow furrowed. “Why are you asking about him?” Ronan said nothing, and Zach’s folded hands clenched into fists. “He killed my aunt?”
“I don’t know,” Ronan said honestly. “What did he go to juvie for?”