Dead By Dawn (9 page)

“Did your parents ever approach either family?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Charles father was a powerhouse in the community and Van Buren’s father was a judge. I think they would have been afraid to do anything with people like that. My parents were nice, simple folks,” he said.

“How did you know that your sister was getting money from someone to take care of the baby?” she asked.

“My dad mentioned once that an envelope full of cash would arrive in the mail every month, addressed to my sister. He got curious one time and opened it.”

“Did anyone report your sister’s disappearance?” Lindsay asked.

“Yes, my parents did. Letty lived with them,” he said.

“Did the police look for her?”

“Hardly.” He snorted. “When my parents mentioned that she ran with Van Buren and Davenport, they backed off.”

“They told you that?” she asked.

“No, my parents just said that the sheriff wasn’t putting much effort into it.”

“Do you think those men were involved in her disappearance?”

“Only that the money stopped coming,” he said.

“The cash every month?” she asked.

“Yes, there was never another payment after she disappeared,” he said.

“In retrospect, it looks like someone knew she was dead,” Lindsay stated.

“Yes, you could say that, now that we know she was dead,” Fred acknowledged.

“Did you know either of the men?” Lindsay asked.

“I knew them from high school. Both of them were a couple of spoiled pricks,” he said. “Davenport was always a bully and Van Buren was his side kick. They were arrogant and pushed people around.”

“Either of them get into trouble with the law?” she asked.

Fred paused and thought for a minute. “Not directly.”

“What do you mean?”

“I seem to remember something about some trouble they got into in high school. Someone got hurt. The word was that one of the Davenport’s ranch hands was involved. I think he took the fall for something the boys did,” he answered.

“Do you know any details?” she asked.

“I can’t remember anything,” he said.

“Do you know his name?” she said.

“No, I don’t,” he said. Then, his face lit up. “I do remember that the guy’s boy was in our class and he worked at the ranch too.”

“I might be able to track him down,” she said. “That must have been hard on your parents with your sister having a child out of wedlock.”

“It was. Things like that just didn’t happen back in the fifties. My parents were embarrassed.”

“Why didn’t they do more to find out who the father was?” she asked.

“I think they knew it was one of those boys. At the time, they were both married,” he said.

“But your sister was underage when she had the baby.”

“You just didn’t go around making accusations like that without proof. Letty wasn’t talking,” he said.

“Do you have an old yearbook?” Lindsay asked.

“I might have one in the study,” he said and smiled. “It would be an antique.”

Lindsay laughed at his joke. “Do you think you could point out the kid you think may be the ranch hand’s kid?”

“Sure, let me grab it,” he said. He got up from the chair and went to another room in the house. Several minutes later, he came back with the San Luis yearbook from 1950. He scanned through the senior class and pointed out Charles Davenport. He moved through the rest of the pictures and stopped at the ranch hand. His name was Bing Taylor. His picture was right next to Martin Van Buren’s in the alphabetical listing.

“This is him,” Fred said. “This is the guy who worked at Davenport’s ranch.”

Lindsay drove home, excited that she may have a link to the murders. There was too much coincidence that Bing Taylor’s name had surfaced twice now. She called Dixon Calhoun and told him about the conversation with Fred Carlson.

“Some coincidence that his name is involved with all of the victims,” Dixon said. “What now?”

“Who is handling the murder investigation on the two bodies found at the ranch?” she asked.

“Taylor Kragen. He’s out of the office but, I’ll call him and give him your number,” Calhoun said.

Ten minutes later, Kragen called her. “Calhoun tells me you were one hell of a homicide detective. I understand you may have some info on the Carlson case,” he said.

Lindsay laughed. “He exaggerates. I may have something. I talked to the victim’s brother. He says that his parents always thought that Charles Davenport or Martin Van Buren may have been the baby’s father.”

Kragen whistled. “Big names around here.”

“I was hired to look into the murders that happened in nineteen seventy seven. The only survivor is looking for a sister that he thinks may be alive. Those two names came up as well, as a Bing Taylor.”

“Is Taylor alive?” he asked.

“No, he was found murdered out in the desert shortly after the murders in ‘77,” she said.

“Well, I’ll be talking to the family that owns the property tomorrow morning,” he said.

“You are coming to Los Angeles?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“I was hired by the Dorans. Would you mind if I sit in?” she asked.

“I would be open to a second set of eyes and ears. Meet me at their home at nine o’clock,” he said.

***

Detective Kragen was not what Lindsay expected. He looked like a computer nerd. He was a small, thin man with a crew cut. His dark hair and dark eyes were a stark contrast to his very pale skin. His skin was so pale that he looked he might burn if he stayed in the sun more than five minutes.

When Lindsay sat down with him and the Doran’s at their dining room table, she ogled the ocean view from the window. Martha Doran noticed and commented. “The view is beautiful in here. It’s my favorite room in the house.”

“Yes, it is lovely. Especially, on a sunny day, like today,” Lindsay answered.

Martha offered everyone coffee and fresh baked cinnamon rolls. Detective Kragen started his interview. “How long have you owned the property in Shandon?”

Robert Doran answered, “Since the 70s. We invested in it with our daughter and son-in-law.”

“My understanding is that you lost your daughter on the same property. Is that correct?” Kragen said delicately.

“Yes. We were surprised by this development. The property seems to be cursed,” Robert Doran answered tersely.

“I have to ask. Did you know anything about the bodies on the property?” Martin asked.

“Nothing,” Robert answered.

“Did you know Letty Carlson?” Martin asked.

“No. We didn’t live in that area,” he answered.

“I know you hired Ms. Carter to look into the possibility that your granddaughter may still be alive. Some names came up in conjunction with that,” Martin said. He sipped his coffee. “You know Charles Davenport?”

“Yes, we were in-laws,” Doran answered.

“Did you know him before your daughter married his son?” Marin asked.

Martha Doran answered, “We knew them from a distance. The kids dated for three years before they got married. We would see them when we visited our daughter at school.”

“Before that?” Kragen asked.

“No, we’d never heard of them,” Robert Doran answered.

“What about Martin Van Buren. Do you know him?” “Well, yes we know who he is. He was the judge who dealt with the custody of Jeremy,” Martha Doran snapped. “I don’t understand why you are asking us this.”

“These are names that have come up in connection to the two bodies we found under the house,” he said politely. “So, you didn’t know Van Buren until after the kids were murdered?”

“No, we didn’t,” Robert Doran said in a resigned tone.

“What about a Bing Taylor?” Kragen asked.

Martha and Robert Doran looked at each other and both answered, “No.”

Jeremy rushed into the room and sat down. “I’m sorry I was late. I got caught in traffic.” He reached over and shook Detective Kragen’s hand. “I’m Jeremy Davenport.”

Kragen shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I was just asking your grandparents if they knew anything about some names that came up in the case. I know that you know Charles Davenport. What about Martin Van Buren?”

“I met him at my other grandparents’ house. He’s a good friend of the family,” Jeremy answered.

“What about Bing Taylor?” Kragen asked.

Jeremy paused and thought about the name. “I think he was a friend of my grandpa’s. I’ve heard his name mentioned, but I don’t remember ever meeting him.”

“Do you know if he worked for your grandparents?” Kragen asked.

“No, I grew up on their ranch. I knew everyone that worked for them,” Jeremy answered.

“Have you ever heard your grandparents or their friends mention Letty Carlson?” Kragen asked.

“No, I’ve never heard that name,” Jeremy said.

“I think that’s all I have,” Kragen said.

“Do you have any idea how those bodies got there?” Jeremy asked.

“At this point, no,” Kragen answered. “You know, I do have another question.”

“Shoot,” Jeremy said.

“Have the Davenports offered any of you money to buy that property?” Kragen said.

Jeremy answered first. “No, not me.” He looked at his grandparents.

Robert Doran said, “No, no one has.”

Martha Doran added, “We heard from our daughter that Charles Davenport tried to buy the property several times.”

“But, after the kids died, he never tried to buy it from you?” Kragen asked again.

“No, he tried to sue us for it, but was unsuccessful,” Robert said.

“This was back in the 70s?” Kragen said.

“Yes, late 70s or early 80s,” Doran answered.

“Was it as valuable then as it would be now?” Kragen asked.

“It was decent farmland but, that was before everyone started planting grapes. So, probably not,” Doran said with a shrug.

“If it is far more valuable now, why do you think he hasn’t made another offer to buy it?” Kragen asked.

“He knows after everything that’s happened, there is no way we would ever sell to him,” Doran said pointedly.

“Has anyone else offered to buy the land?” Kragen asked.

“Recently, no,” Martha Doran said.

“How about not so recently?” Kragen asked.

“There was a corporation that tried to buy the property for years. They stopped bothering us about ten years ago,” Robert said.

“Do you remember the name?” Kragen asked.

“Darcorp,” Robert answered.

“Did they offer a fair price?” Kragen asked.

“The price was more than fair.” Robert said.

“Why didn’t you sell?” Kragen inquired.

Martha and Robert looked at each other. Finally, Robert answered. “We thought that the company was a front for the Davenports.”

Dixon Calhoun had done some checking around and found that Bing Taylor’s younger sister, Beatrice, still lived in the area. The next day, Lindsay made the drive to the Central Coast again. Dixon and Lindsay met Beatrice at her law office in San Luis Obispo.

A short woman, Beatrice wore four inch heels and a navy blue power suit to level the playing field. She had dark brown hair worn in an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck and intense green eyes.

“Bing’s been dead a long time. What’s this about?” she asked pointedly.

Dixon replied in an official manner. “There were some bodies that were dug up out at the Davenport Ranch in Shandon. When we started poking around about the victim, your brother’s name came up.”

Beatrice lifted a brow in surprise. “My brother has been dead for over thirty years. How old were these bodies?”

“We think they were killed back in the fifties,” Lindsay said.

“Are we talking about the mother and baby that were in the paper?” Beatrice asked.

“Yes.” Lindsay said and paused. “I know you were just a kid when these people were killed. I was hoping you could tell us if your brother knew the victim, Letty Carlson.”

Beatrice thought for a moment. “Bing was a year ahead of me in school. He hung around with Charlie Davenport and Marty Van Buren. Letty was always with those guys. She was Charlie’s girlfriend in high school. Later I heard a rumor that Marty got her pregnant.”

“You think the baby was Marty’s?” Lindsay asked.