Remember Me
Part 2
After saying good-bye to
their friend, Starsky and Hutch drove to the Hillerman Subdivision to talk to
Mark and Amanda Powell. The
Hutch sat down in the chair
Mark Powell had indicated. "You have our condolences, Mr. and Mrs. Powell.
I know this is a difficult time for you, but we need your help if we're going
to find the person responsible for your daughter's death."
Linda sat on the couch,
between her sister and brother-in-law. The family resemblance was easy to see.
Amanda had Linda's green eyes, her patrician nose, and even her unruly curly
hair. The difference between the two lay in their attitudes. In normal
circumstances, Linda was extroverted, vocal, and when needed, could be very
aggressive. Amanda's personality was the polar opposite of her sister's. She
was soft-spoken, quiet, and had a gentle demeanor. Amanda's face was still pale
and they could tell by her puffy eyes that she'd been crying. She clutched a soggy
tissue in her hand.
"It's all right,
Detective. I know you're just doing your job. Linda said you were the best. If
anyone can find the monster that murdered our little girl, Linda said it would
be you two. What can we tell you?"
Starsky sat in the chair
opposite the couch. He took out his small notebook and leafed through it.
"We talked to some of the people that lived close to James Woodrow. They
seem certain that the crime was linked to drugs, but we talked to the head of
our Narcotics Division. Mr. Woodrow hadn't been involved with anything illegal
since he got out of prison. Did you know that he'd been in trouble?"
Amanda nodded as she dabbed
at the corner of her eyes with a tissue. "Yes, we knew. Sissy's had a
crush on Jimmy since she was a freshman in High School. He was working at Mae's
Wok, in the mall. At first, he wouldn't have anything to do with her. She was
too young, he said. She didn't give up, though. She was always hanging around
the mall, bugging him and asking all sorts of personal questions when he went
on break. Sissy told me later that he probably thought she was a real pain back
then. She was devastated when he got into trouble and went to prison. While he
was gone, she concentrated on her studies. We thought she'd gotten over him. Then,
when they started dating last year, we were very concerned. I told her that I
was afraid she'd get hurt. I watch the news, Detective. I know all about the
drug problem in our city. I didn't want Sissy to get involved with that. But
Jimmy came over and he talked to Mark and me. He promised he was out of that
life now. He seemed so sincere! He had a job, was living in his uncle's house,
and was planning on going back to school. We thought he'd matured a lot since
he came home, so we gave them our blessing. When he asked her to move in with
him, we didn't object, even though I wasn't happy about them living together
without benefit of marriage. He started coming to family gatherings with her,
and then asked Mark for permission to marry her. He didn't have to do that. I
know it was old-fashioned, but we were really touched by the gesture. He really
wanted our support."
"Did Sissy ever mention
any problems with his former associates? Were there any strange phone calls, or
letters? Did they get any visitors that she didn't know?"
Mark Powell shook his head.
"No, she always seemed so happy. I'm sure if there were any problems, she
would have told us."
Hutch noticed the small
photograph on the corner table. He motioned with his hand. "Is that your
daughter?"
Mark took the photograph
from its spot and handed it to Hutch. "Yes, that's Sissy and Jimmy. We
took it last Christmas. The whole family got together that day." His voice
shook with grief. "We didn't know it would be our last Christmas with her."
There was an awkward silence
as Sissy's family tried to control their pain. Then Hutch handed the picture
back to her father.
"What can you tell us
about Sissy? What were her interests? Did she have anyone else that she was
close to, and would confide in?"
Amanda Powell glanced
uncertainly at her sister. Linda held her hand. "Tell them everything,
Sis, the good and the bad. They need to know if they're going to help."
Her voice was tinged with sorrow. "You can't hurt Sissy now."
Amanda nodded and took a
deep breath. Then she gazed steadily at the two detectives. "Sissy was
very popular in high school. She was also very athletic, and was on the
cheerleading squad in her freshman and sophomore years. Then, during the first
game of her junior year, Sissy fell while doing a complicated routine. She
wasn't disabled permanently, but she twisted her back and it was very painful.
She had to give up her spot on the team, which was extremely hard for her to
do. It took a long time for her to heal. There were days when she could barely
get out of bed. She tried everything to ease the pain. The doctors gave her
muscle-relaxers, pain pills, and she slept on a heating pad for months."
She sighed as she clutched the tissue in her hands. "Kids can be very
cruel, Detective. Once she was off the team, a lot of her friends deserted her.
I told her they were only fair-weather friends, and not to worry about them,
but she was never the same after that. Oh, she kept her grades up well enough
to graduate, but I could tell she was very depressed. Then, after she
graduated, she fell in with the wrong crowd. I didn't know it at the time, but
she was also dependant on the Percodan the doctor had prescribed for her. One
night, she was at a party and got into a fight with some of the other girls. We
didn't even know she had gone there! The party was in a very bad neighborhood,
and the kids were drinking and doing drugs. The police raided the party and
Sissy was arrested. She knew we would be very disappointed in her, so she
didn't call us. We were frantic until one of the other girls' parents called us
the next morning. Then, when we talked to the arresting officer, he told us
Sissy had been charged with possession of a controlled substance. She went
before the judge and he sentenced her to 200 hours of community service, a year
of probation, and suggested that we enroll her in a drug rehabilitation
program. It was a stressful time for us, be we survived it, and even grew
closer as a result. Still, I was worried about her. I could tell she was still
depressed, and I didn't know how to help her. Then Jimmy came home and they
started dating again. When he found out that she'd been in trouble, he vowed he
would help her get her life back on track. He was so good for her, Detectives!
I've never seen her as happy as she was after she moved in with him. After all
those two young people went through, I can't believe someone would hurt them
like that! It's not fair, it's just not fair!"
Mark Powell put his arm
around his wife as he tried to console her. He looked at Hutch with tears
shining in his eyes. "Jimmy and Sissy both fell in with the wrong crowd,
but they turned their lives around. How could anyone hate them enough to hurt
them like this?"
Starsky spoke in soothing
tones. "I don't know, Mr. Powell. We're going to follow every lead we
have. Is there any way you can give us the names of the girls at that party?
Maybe one of them carried a grudge against Sissy."
Amanda shook her head
tiredly. "I can only remember Andrea Gates. Her father is the person that
called us after Sissy was arrested. She wouldn't talk about the party after she
got out of rehab, and we didn't want to bring up painful memories after she and
Jimmy got back together. I do remember the arresting officer's name, if that's
any help. It was Daryl Sims."
The brunet nodded as he
wrote down the names. "That helps a lot, Mrs. Powell. We can get the names
of the other people at the party from him." He stood up, followed closely
by Hutch. "I think that's enough for now. I can tell you're all exhausted.
We'll keep you informed as much as we can. If we have any more questions, we'll
be in touch."
Mark escorted them to the
door. "Please find out who did this, Detective. Find out who killed our
little girl."
Starsky's heart ached as he
sensed the other's pain. "We'll do our best, Mr. Powell. I promise
you."
After Mark closed the door
gently, Starsky thoughtfully gazed at the house. He shook his head, puzzled.
"I don't get it! I
mean, neither of these kids were angels, but any trouble they got into was over
a long time ago. Why would anyone go after them now?"
Hutch tugged his partner on
the arm, leading him back to the car. "Nothing about this case makes
sense. Let's go over the house again then I want to talk to the boys down at
the lab. We were so tired last night that we could have missed something
important."
"You got that right,
partner. By the time I got home, I couldn't have told you my own mother's
name."
They drove to the house on
Hutch examined the bloodstains
on the floor. "One thing's for sure: whoever did this was damned mad at
Woodrow, or Sissy, or both. This goes beyond a simple hit, Starsk. If they just
wanted them dead, a single bullet to the head would have taken them out. But
they beat the Hell out of Woodrow and shot him three times, and Sissy was shot
twice in the head. Either shot would have killed her. Why risk someone hearing
the extra shot?"
Starsky looked at his
partner thoughtfully. "They weren't too worried about anyone hearing, or
they would have gotten in and out faster. This isn't some abandoned hotel on
Skid Row. These people work during the day and come home to their families at
night. They had to know someone would call the cops as soon as the shooting
started. Maybe we're barking up the wrong tree. We keep thinking drugs, but
what if it was personal?"
Hutch nodded. "I think
beating the Hell out of someone is damned personal, don't you?" He studied
the stains on the floor then touched his partner's shoulder. "I don't know
about you, but I've seen enough. Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, this place is
starting to give me the creeps."
When they got back to the
station, their first stop was the crime lab. Officer Greg Hardy handed Starsk
the small file.
"I'm afraid there's not
much to go on, Starsky. The only prints we found in the living room were the
victims', and the perpetrators didn't go into the rest of the house. The
bloodstains were localized. No other blood spatters in other parts of the
house. We didn't find any fibers, hairs, or anything that might have been left
by the perps. However, we did get a partial shoe print in the blood on the side
where the male victim was laying. It's a boot of some kind, with a smooth sole
and slightly worn at the heel. If you arrest a suspect, we could probably match
the print."
Starsky glanced through the
reports then handed the folder to Hutch. "You're right, that's not much to
go on, but thanks for trying, Greg. If we come up with anything useful, we'll
let you know. Do you have any idea how many gunmen we're talking about?"
"Speaking from
experience, I'd say at least two. The Woodrow boy isn't exactly a ninety-pound
weakling. I don't think he'd just stand by and let someone waste his
girlfriend. And he was beaten severely. That tells me there was more than one
perp in the room, too. As small as the girl was, I think she'd try to fight
back if there was just one. Of course, the only way we'll know how it went down
is from the autopsy. Ginny should be finished with that by now."
Hutch handed the file back
to Greg. "OK, that's where we're headed next. Thanks, Greg."
Ginny Simpson looked more
like a college freshman than a M. E. Her youthful face, short dark hair and big
brown eyes reminded people that met her of the girl-next-door, not someone who
had graduated with top honors at UCLA's
Her quiet voice was even
more subdued as she went over the case with the two detectives.
"From what we can tell,
James Woodrow was shot once in the chest first. I've examined the photographs
taken at the scene, and talked with the surgeon that operated on him. He was
beaten with a blunt object; I'd say a tire iron or something close to that
size. If you find it, it should have
hairs or bloodstains on the shaft. Even if they try to clean it, they won't be
able to get everything. Sometime during the beating, Cecilia Powell came into
the room and was shot in the back of the head. I think she was trying to get
away, so she could call for help, when they shot her. She lived for a short
time. Then we think Woodrow was shot again, in the chest and in the arm. The
second shot to Cecilia Powell's head was last, but she was dead at least a few
minutes before that. From what the doctor told me about Woodrow's injuries, I'd
say the second shot that hit Cecilia Powell went right through his arm."
Hutch grimaced. "My
God, are you sure?"
Ginny nodded. "We have
the bullets taken from Woodrow and Powell's body. The bullet that was lodged in
her brain also had muscle and nerve tissue from Woodrow's arm. He must have
been trying to protect her. I guess he didn't realize the first shot was fatal,
too. And the slugs definitely came from different guns. Both weapons are .45
caliber automatics. So you have at least two perpetrators in the house at the
time of the shootings. The total time from the first gunshot to the last was
less than forty-five minutes." Ginny gazed at them forlornly. "From
the level of adrenaline in her bloodstream, the last few minutes of Cecilia
Powell's life must have been terrifying."
Hutch checked his notes.
"Dobey said the call came into the dispatcher at
Starsky shook his head.
"I don't get it. Gregg said there weren't any bloodstains in the rest of
the house, but he found a bloody footprint by Woodrow. If they ran out the
front door, someone should have seen them. What did this guy do, take off his
boots before he ran?"
Hutch shrugged. "I
don't know. Ginny, did you try the Luma-Lite in the rest of the house? If they
did go out the back, you should have found finger prints or something."
Ginny shook her head.
"Greg said they didn't find anything out of place in the rest of the
house. We haven't found any prints around the girl's body, either. They could
have been wearing gloves."
"Well, one thing's for
sure: these people knew what they were doing. Someone knows why it happened,
and they're the ones I want to talk to." The blond detective smiled
briefly at the ME. "Thanks, Ginny. If we find the gun, or the tire iron,
we'll let you know."
"We'll give it top
priority, Hutch." The young ME shook her head sadly. "My kid sister
is only a year older than Cecilia Powell was. Whoever did this wasn't satisfied
with simply killing them. They wanted them to suffer first. How can you protect
the people you love when they aren't even safe in their homes?"
Hutch sighed then nudged
Starsky. "Let's go talk to Daryl Simms. Maybe he can tell us more about
the party Cecilia went to."
Starsky shrugged eloquently.
"Why not? We're not getting anywhere here."
Daryl Simms was a
twenty-year veteran that enjoyed being in uniform. He'd patrolled the same beat
for most of his career and knew the citizens he protected. He was on his way
out when two detectives came into the station, but stopped when he saw them.
"Hey, detectives, I was
just on my way to find you. I heard about Cecilia Powell and remembered the
time I arrested her. Is there anything I can help you with?"
Starsky motioned to a bench
in the corner. The three men sat down and Starsky turned to Daryl. "Her
mother told us about her arrest. What can you tell us about it?"
"The party was at the
Pelican Hotel. It closed years ago, but kids were always sneaking in, drinking
and partying. One of these days, this city is going to wise up and demolish
these old buildings instead of leaving them wide open for transients. The way
these kids act when they're in there, I’m surprised they haven't burned that
hotel down with them inside. Anyway, we got the call around
Hutch nodded. "That's
what her parents told us. What can you tell us about the fight?"
"She wouldn't say much
about it, but the scuttlebutt was it had something to do with the Percodan. One
of the other girls at the party saw the bottle in Powell's purse, and
apparently wanted her to share. She refused, and the fight started. None of the
kids were hurt bad enough to require medical attention, so we don't know for
sure who threw the first punch, or who all was involved. But I can tell you
some of the other kids were bad news. That part of town is rough. We break
these parties up several times a week down there. Cecilia Powell didn't have
any business being in that hotel."
"Can you give us the
names of the other kids you arrested? Maybe some of them can tell us
more."
"Sure. Let me get the
file for you. I'll make copies of everything in it."
Starsky smiled.
"Thanks. That would be a big help."
When Simms returned a few
minutes later, Starsky and Hutch scanned the list of names included in the
file. Starsky shook his head, disappointed.
"I don't see any names
on here that jump out at me. Daryl, are there any on here that have been in
trouble recently?"
Simms read over the list
again. "Let's see; Nina Gallant and Leonard Malloy have been in trouble a
few times. But they're small potatoes, Starsky. Nina's been arrested for
possession and solicitation a couple of times, and Malloy's just a hot-headed
punk with a taste for Jack Daniels. I don't think either one of them is smart
enough, or conniving enough to move into the big leagues."
"We'll pull their
jackets anyway and see what we come up with. Thanks, Daryl. If you remember anything
else about that party, get in touch with us."
"I'll do that, Starsky.
I hope you catch those creeps soon."
Starsky stood up, holding
the file in his hands. "We're going to do our best, Daryl. We'll talk to
you later."
Back to Remember
Me, part 1 Back to FanFic2 Go to Remember
Me, Part 3