CHAPTER 2

After parking his truck in the parking garage at the police station, Matt found his way into the lobby and up to the desk where he was greeted by Sgt. Bob Peterson, who automatically demanded to see Catey's latest pictures and wanted to know how the wedding had gone. Houston showed off pictures of his daughter and told Bob that the wedding had gone off without a hitch. He then hopped on the elevator and headed up to talk to Lt. Michael Hoyt. As he got off of the elevator, he spied his friend at the coffee pot. "Still trying to sober up?"

Michael heard his friend's voice and turned to face the private investigator, smiling. "Nope, but I bet Murray is – or maybe not." Both men laughed. "What's going on?" Hoyt started for his office and Matt followed along.

"I need to find out what you know about a cold case from three years back. It was a triple murder: Kenneth and Joanie Mercer and their son Michael." He sat down on the couch and put his left foot over on his right knee.

"Mercer, Mercer…" Hoyt sat down and took a sip of coffee before pulling his keyboard to him and typing in the names on his computer. "Oh yeah, that was a bad one alright. Uh huh, I remember hearing about it now – I didn't work that one; that was when I had the flu. The son was a gang member. Who hired you?" He hit the button to print out the file for Matt and leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of coffee.

"Their daughter, Charlene Mercer. Larry Carlisle sent her to me." Neither man said anything for a minute as they thought back to the day that Larry's partner had been gunned down in cold blood. "Has he come back to work yet?" Larry had taken the young man's death particularly hard and had taken some time off.

"As a matter of fact I saw him when I came in. It's his first day back." Hoyt had been somewhat surprised to see the sergeant back; he had been threatening to retire for over a year and the veteran detective had figured that his partner's death would be the final straw. Apparently not.

"Bet it's going to be a tough one for him. I'd kind of like to talk to him – see if he knew the family. Guess he'll be off at 4:30?"

"Yep, should be. I'll get a message to him for you." Hoyt and Matt walked out to the printer in the outer office and the lieutenant handed Houston the information. "That's gonna be a doozy – three years ago." He looked a little skeptical.

"Well I told her up front that I couldn't make any guarantees, but I'll sure try. Thanks for your help, bud." He stopped and looked at the name of the officer who had investigated: Mark Poulton. "Guess I won't be able to ask the investigating detective." Poulton had been killed in an auto accident six months before.

"Nope. Good luck. Let me know if you need anything." Hoyt turned and went back to the paperwork waiting for him on his desk and picked up the phone to have a message sent to Carlisle about calling Houston.

On his way down to the parking garage, Matt started looking through the file. Kenneth Mercer had been fifty seven years old when he was murdered. He had worked in a body shop since the age of seventeen and by the time he was thirty five, he owned it. His wife, Joanie, had been a seamstress at a local bridal shop called "Wedded Bliss". She had been there since the age of nineteen. Both had been found dead, stabbed multiple times in their living room. The son, Michael, had been found stabbed to death on a creeper under his car in the garage of the home. Only one fingerprint had been found and it was a smudge. A cast had been made of a couple of footprints found in a flower bed, and a blood trail had led out of the house and down the front walk. It wasn't a match to any of the Mercers and it appeared to belong to the killer. There hadn't been a DNA match when it was run through the system. The elevator doors opened and Matt headed out to his truck, still reading as he walked.

The bodies of the Mercer family had been found by the postman the next day as he walked to the back of the house to leave a package for Kenneth Mercer. When he saw the body of Michael, he had called the police who found the other two victims when they arrived on the scene. Matt tossed the folder on the seat of the truck as he got in and looked at his watch: it was almost 9:00. He called the office. CJ answered after the fourth ring. "Hey Babe, everything okay?"

"Yeah, Catey just decided that it was time to have a messy diaper. I swear I don't remember the phone ringing as much as it has this morning."

"I'd like to find some temporary help but I hate to bring in a stranger – there's a lot of confidential information around there." He had almost forgotten why he had called her. "Can I get you to do me a favor if you're where you can?"

"Sure, we're done with the diaper and now she's having a bottle – and holding it by herself quite a bit I might add." CJ sounded like the typical proud mother.

"Heavy drinker, huh?" Matt laughed.

"Uh huh. What did you need?"

"Can you look up a bridal shop – "Wedded Bliss" and tell me where they are and what time they open?"

"Uh yeah, but you know that cute little phone that you carry around can do the same thing." She grinned as she typed in the name of the shop and pulled up the information on it. "They open at 10:00 and they are in the 5600 block of Wilshire."

"I know it can, but this gives me a good excuse to check up on my ladies." Matt grinned as he put on his seat belt and started the truck. "See you later, Babe, love you."

"Love you, too. Be careful." She hung up and turned her attention back to her daughter. "You know, you've got a great daddy, Catey."

As he was about to pull out of the garage, Matt's phone rang. He looked at the caller ID: Larry Carlisle. "Hey Larry, thanks for getting back to me so quick. I didn't think I'd be hearing from you until this afternoon."

"Well, the kid is busy writing a speeding ticket so I thought I'd take a chance." Larry sounded pretty good, considering what he had been through.

"Did they give you a rookie?" Matt wasn't surprised. Larry had acted as Field Training Officer to quite a few members of the force.

"Yeah, they did. That's okay though, I get to teach 'em all kinds of bad habits." The sergeant laughed. Matt knew better than that.

"I thought the only bad habit you had was donuts, bud."

"Shhh, don't say that too loud – my wife might be listening. She keeps telling me I need to lose weight."

"And CJ keeps telling me I need to gain more. Hell, I've already put on ten pounds since we got married." Matt laughed. "Hey, I appreciate you sending Charlene Mercer my way. She came to see me this morning. I was wondering: did you know the family?"

"Yeah, I did. My brother used to work for her dad before he moved to Virginia. He was a real nice guy, easy to work for and he was a fair boss. His wife was a sweet lady – made the best chocolate pie I ever put in my mouth."

"Sound like nice folks. Did you know anything about the son?" Matt had put the truck back into park and turned off the engine.

"A little. He had been in some gang related trouble and had a couple of possession charges – crack. The last time I talked to Kenneth he said the boy had gotten cleaned up and was trying to make a fresh start and go to some mechanic school."

"Alright, well that's more than I started out with this morning. I sure appreciate it. You take care of yourself, you hear? You and Shirley need to come out to the ranch one night and let me cook you some steaks."

"Be careful, Houston, I might just take you up on that."

"I'd be glad if you did, bud. Talk to you later." Houston hung up the phone and pulled out his notebook, jotting down the information that Larry had given him on the family. He still had forty five minutes before the bridal shop opened, so he decided to swing by the home to get the lay of the land.

As he pulled up in front of 11598 Commonwealth Avenue Matt shut off the engine. It was a nice looking neighborhood of homes that were built in the 1950's and 60's, well taken care of with lawns that were worth bragging about. From what he had heard so far about Kenneth and Joanie Mercer, they would have fit right in. As he sat there a bald-headed man of about sixty knocked on the window of his truck. "Can I help you with something?" He eyed Matt suspiciously.

"Well sir, maybe you can. I'm a private investigator." Matt pulled out his business card and handed it to the man. "I've been asked to look into the murder of the family that used to live here – the Mercers. Would you happen to have known them by any chance?"

"Maybe I did, but I'm not telling you anything until I see a PI's license." The older fella wasn't going to cut Matt any slack.

"Yes sir, I can sure show you." He pulled out his ID and held it up for the man to see.

"Okay. Can't be too careful these days. This is a nice neighborhood and I aim to keep it that way. And yeah I knew Kenny and Joanie. Two of the nicest people you could ever want to meet. Damn shame what happened to 'em." He looked up at the house. "So somebody hired you to look into it, huh?"

"Yes sir, the daughter – Charlene?"

"Nice girl. I remember when the kids were young – her and her brother Michael. He got a bad streak in him when he hit sixteen but he had cleaned up his act before he died. I was a little skeptical until he came over to see me one day. I live over there." He pointed to a stucco house with a pair of palm trees decorating the front yard. "The boy actually apologized to me. He and some of his little gang banger buddies spray painted my car one night after I complained about all the boom-boom music coming out of one of 'em's car. His dad painted it for me and I didn't call the cops out of respect for his parents. I gotta say I was impressed that he had the stones to come apologize like that. And he was clean – you could see it in his eyes. Damn shame – he was supposed to start mechanic school the next week. He was twenty one at the time."

"Did you happen to see or hear anything the night that they were killed?" Matt had a feeling that the man probably knew everything that went on within a three block radius.

"The only thing that I saw – and I told the cops when they knocked on my door – was a fist fight out in the front yard. Some of Michael's old gang buddies came and paid him a visit. He took a few licks but ended up on the winning side. The boy used to box when he was younger and evidently didn't forget the moves – he knocked one of 'em slap out."

"Well sir, Mr. – I didn't catch your name." Houston held his hand out.

"That's 'cause I didn't throw it." He laughed. "William Bellwood." The two men shook.

"I sure appreciate the information. If you should happen to think of anything else please call me."

"You betcha." The man started back across the street as Matt dropped the truck into gear and headed toward the bridal shop.