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see if Schak knew the name.
    His partner raised an eyebrow. “What did the bastard want?”
    “He said he was innocent and wanted me to know the truth before he died. I visited the prison yesterday.” Jackson leaned in and lowered his voice again. “This is strictly confidential. Vargas said Santori and Bekker abused him until he confessed. He has scars from where he claims Bekker burned him with a cigarette.”
    A chain of reactions played out on Schak’s face. He settled on dead serious. “You believe him. You’re looking at your parents’ file.”
    “I have to.”
    “Does Lammers know?”
    “Not yet.”
    “You know I’m on board. I’ll do whatever I can, even on my own time.”
    “I appreciate that. For now, I don’t want anyone to know.”
    “Lammers may want to hand it over to internal affairs.” Schak’s eyes went wide. “Shit. Santori is IA now.”
    “It’s a sticky one.”
    “Did you find anything irregular in the file?”
    “A few quirks. I hope to question some witnesses today.”
    “Here comes the boss.” Schak scooted over to his own desk.
    Sergeant Lammers strode up, making Jackson feel smaller than his six-foot, two-hundred pounds. She was the same size, only more so. Lammers projected a force field that somehow diminished everyone around her.
    “Good morning, Jackson.”
    He braced himself. “Morning, Sergeant. Did you have a good weekend?”
    “Not really. I got two calls yesterday, both very strange cases.” She waved a sheet of notebook paper and gave him a closed-mouth smile. “This one is special and has your name all over it.”
    He waited her out.
    “Dispatch informs me a guy called in and said he found a dead body in the laundry room at his apartment complex. I took an unrelated call immediately after. I was on the phone maybe five minutes.” Lammers nodded, her short hair and wide face stiff as ever. “Before I could make a move, dispatch called again. The laundry guy had called back and claimed the body was gone. He’d gone out for a smoke to calm his nerves and when he came back in, the body wasn’t there.”
    “Oh joy.” Jackson grabbed the yellow note out of her hand. “My guess is he was never dead.”
    “Good luck.” Lammers headed toward Evans with a second sheet of notepaper.
    Jackson was glad to have a reason to get out. With any luck, he’d wrap up the disappearing corpse case in record time, then make a stop in his old neighborhood

Chapter 5

    Monday, September 6, 11:25 a.m.
    On the way back from her interview with Gina, Evans drove through Glenwood, a ramshackle strip of industrial businesses and low-rent houses between Eugene and Springfield. She cursed at every stupid driver who crossed her path. What a FUBAR this case was. No crime scene to investigate, no fresh witnesses, a victim who couldn’t stay awake to answer questions, and—the frosting on this shit cake—the main suspect was a cop.
    What the hell was she supposed to do? If Bekker were just a citizen, her first step would be to bring him in for questioning. But he was a patrol sergeant who had once worked as a detective. He’d never been her supervisor but she’d heard rumors that he was a jackass. As a cop, Bekker knew how the system worked and would not willingly answer questions. Tipping him off that he was under suspicion would likely backfire as well. Evans wanted to hand the case back to Sergeant Lammers and say: Sorry, I can’t handle this . But she wouldn’t admit that out loud even if she were tortured. Being thirty-two and female, she was already considered the weak link in the unit.
    Evans understood that she had to craft a plan and handle the case carefully. At some point, she would have to tell Lammers that her suspect was a Eugene police sergeant, but not yet. Lammers might take the case away from her and Evans couldn’t let that happen either.
    She stopped at Carl’s Jr., then wolfed down a cheeseburger as she drove to headquarters. She would have to run five miles