Lalla Bains 02 - A Dead Red Heart (32 page)

He perched on Sherlene's desk. She wrinkled her nose at him, then pushed aside her paperwork and handed him the phone.

"Hello? Yeah, this is Deputy Sheriff George Heath. Evidence room, please." He gave me a reassuring wink.

George told them what he needed and waited. "Uh-huh. Then who...? Uh-huh. You don't say. No, thanks, that's it."

"So?" I asked, my heart beating a quick tattoo.

He hung up, thoughtful. "I can tell you this much, I'm sure glad I'm not in their shoes, 'cause heads are going to roll on this one." He held up his fingers and ticked off the problems. "One: The signature is illegible. Two: The officer seems to have forgotten to put down his badge number. And three: Nobody remembers seeing who it was who took it and it hasn't been returned. They're looking into it."

I felt my earlier euphoria sinking into the cushion of my chair. Then I sat up again. Checked out? That
had
to be done by a cop. This was the proof we'd been looking for—a cop who didn't want anyone looking at Billy Wayne's snowflakes. There had to be something in them that would name the killer.

I cheerfully thanked them all and left for what was left of my lunch appointment with Caleb at DEWZ.

I stepped through the door to the downtown café behind a long line of restless lawyers and clients, judges and policemen jostling for a table and a quick lunch.

"Excuse me," I said, edging my way through the line,

"I'm meeting someone. Sorry, sorry, my friend is waiting—yes, yes, I have a table."

I stepped up behind a tall brunette talking animatedly to the man next to her. When she heard my voice, she swiveled around and smiled. "Hey, Lalla! You missed soft-ball practice this week. Where you been, girlfriend?"

"Hey, Barb. Sorry, it's been, uh, a bit busy. You know Ag pilots, crops to spray, bugs to kill, that sort of thing." I edged away, just in case she asked me if I knew who was responsible for endangering her baby brother's career as a police officer.

"Wait up a sec?" She tossed a few words over her shoulder to her friend and signaled that I should meet her in the ladies' room. Reluctantly, I followed in her wake.

Inside, she locked the door behind us. I held my breath, trying to imagine how I could possibly pacify her and not make her brother sound like a total nincompoop.

She turned to me, white teeth showing in a wide smile. "Byron's in love. Can you believe it?"

"Really?" This was a relief, and a surprise. I could talk about Byron all day, but none of it had anything to do with his love life. "So, who's the lucky girl?"

"I wouldn't have known he had a girlfriend if I hadn't caught them smooching under the lights at his apartment parking garage. I was delivering my mom's weekly leftover lasagna, and there they were, wrapped around each other, completely oblivious to anyone who might be driving by. I didn't stick around to mess up his cha-cha, if you know what I mean, but when I cornered him the next day he said that since they work together it has to stay quiet."

"Gee, that's sweet. So when's the big day?" I asked, knowing that his sister, mother, cousins, and the entire Portuguese population of Turlock, would now be on his case for a wedding date.

"He won't say, the little rascal! I only hope he'll bring her home before they move."

"Move? Byron's moving?"

"She got another job offer someplace back east and they're both going to transfer."

"Nice," I said, thinking it wouldn't be bad to have Byron out of my hair.

"Yeah, fast work on little brother's part—that is if he can hold onto a babe like that. She was a good couple of inches taller than he is. Don't get me wrong, little brother is adorable, all that dark curly hair flopping over his forehead and those damn long eyelashes, but he's always been so shy with the girls, you know? I was the one who pushed him to sign up for the police academy and I guess it's given him the boost to his confidence he needed. That uniform and his good looks. Finally, my baby brother is getting some action!"

"Did you say, taller? Was she by any chance a redhead?"

"Oh, gee, I couldn't tell, those phosphorescent lights wash the color right out of everything, you know? Great cheekbones though."

Pippa and Byron smooching in a parking lot? Whoa… Wait a minute… Pippa was getting a transfer and taking Byron with her? Byron, who could barely look at a woman without stammering, hooked up with a beautiful young woman like Pippa? What were the chances that this was a coincidence? At her rescue of me at the police station, I suggested that she hypnotized him, and she waved off the idea but admitted that Byron was enamored with her. And didn't she also say,
Not that it will do him any good
?

Hypnosis? She'd tried to hypnotize me, and it didn't work—or did it? Didn't I seem to have a little voice telling me that I was no longer interested in this case? Byron was still a kid, easily influenced, and Pippa was... was Pippa the uniform Mr. Kim had seen?

"Lalla? You okay? You look faint."

I was feeling a little woozy.

"Oh, gee, I'm sorry, here I am babbling on about my family and keeping you from your meal."

"It's okay, Barb, I guess I should be going, my lunch date is waiting, and I am famished. It's been great seeing you, and I hope everything works out for Byron and his girlfriend."

I only stumbled once on the stairs to the second floor, caught myself with the handrail, and taking a deep breath to settle my nerves, met Caleb with a smile on my face. The thousand watt smile I beamed at him must have worked because he gave me a grateful peck on the cheek, pulled out a chair for me, and said, "Hey, sweetheart, I'm glad to see you."

I dropped into it, reached across the table, and gripped his hands in mine. "Caleb, I know I've been hard to take lately. I accused you of feeding my theories to Detective Rodney when truly, if I'd been a better person, I would've realized that this is exactly what you should do. It's your job that's on the line, not mine, and I had no business to judge you for what you tell Rodney."

He smiled, giving my hands a squeeze. "Glad to hear that, sweetheart."

"Yes, yes. I know Detective Rodney is only doing his job, and based on the information that we gave him it's only right that he would assume that he had the right person for the murder of Billy Wayne, but he doesn't."

Caleb finally managed to extract his hands from mine and restlessly scrubbed at his thinning crew cut. "Hot outside. What's the weather going to do?"

"Caleb, darling, I have information to prove it."

He looked around for perhaps the quickest escape route, then sighed, knocked back the last of his ice tea and jiggled the ice in the glass at a passing waitress. She smiled and indicated she'd be right back.

The temperature outside had nothing on my own pot about to boil over. "Will you just hear me out?"

He nodded, if somewhat cautiously, and I continued.

"Am I right in assuming that I was coming to your office today to see the box of Billy Wayne's snowflakes?"

"I called, asked if I could pick it up, but it was already checked out."

"Caleb, darling, it means a lot to me that you tried. But, the box is not just checked out, it's missing."

Caleb's wet glass slipped through his hand and thumped the table. "What?"

"Let me back up a minute and it will be clearer. Last night I found an unwelcome gift in our mailbox with a threatening note. That makes two threats to me and my family, if you count the cryptic DOA on my dad's door. This note came to me after Mr. Kim was arrested. I kept thinking Rodney. But Caleb, I think Del was right all along. Billy Wayne's killer is a cop."

"We're still looking to pick up Grace Kim. She could have done it, hoping you'd leave the investigating to the police."

"Not Grace. I've got a bad feeling about Grace, and I hope I'm wrong, but I think she ran from me in that garage because she finally put two and two together. She realized her lover was someone who was a dangerous killer. Grace is gay, I know because she came out at high school graduation. So who was she meeting in a downtown garage that is parking for mostly lawyers, judges, and police?"

He started to reply, but I was on a roll. "Remember when you asked me to look at Grace's car to see if I saw anything different about it? I didn't remember it until today. There was a Chinese good luck tassel hanging on her rearview mirror. I knew I'd seen another one just like it, but couldn't remember where, and then, downstairs Byron Bettencourt's sister, Barbara, told me that Byron's in love with a beautiful young police officer who's a good couple of inches taller than he is."

Caleb tilted his head, obviously not getting the connection. "Who're we talking about here?"

"I ignored Del Potts incendiary accusations about Grace and Pippa Roulette because he was always doing that, and it just made me mad. Del put Pippa as a suspect because she moved into town and six months later Billy Wayne was murdered. I didn't see because of his aggravating, nerve-wracking, drive-you-around-the-bend behavior—but Caleb, I think he had it right."

He groaned. "Oh, no… you're not saying…"

I took a deep breath and said, "I know, I know. Doesn't sound fair, does it? Here is a young woman, intelligent, beautiful; she's been on the job for a few short months and I'm already accusing her of murder. I'm as sorry as you are, Caleb. I liked her; well, at least I did until I added it all up. That and Roxy's comment about, what would I do if it were
my
brother who'd lost his last chance at a heart transplant? Your arrest of Mr. Kim was based on the killer being someone with military or police training, and someone who is left handed, which perfectly describes Pippa, as well, because I saw her write with her left hand. And that Chinese good luck symbol on Grace's rear view mirror? That was in Pippa's car, too. Pippa was the person Grace trusted to help her and her father, and now Grace has disappeared."

"And Byron?"

"I think she gave him a little hypnotic suggestion, something that wouldn't be too far out of the line for a kid who thinks he's in love—and Byron's still a kid, you know."

Caleb was doing a quick head shake, indicating that I was running away with the truth, again. "You think I'm simply jealous of a beautiful and talented younger woman, right? But, Caleb, what if I'm right? What if Pippa Roulette is not what, or who, she says she is? What better way to have access to all the critical information she's been looking for than to do it from inside a police department."

"Wow! That's a leap, even for you, sweetheart. She came with glowing references and we have her prints and picture to prove it."

I knew how easy it was to fuzz out the details with a dazzling smile and lowered eyelashes. A beautiful woman is naturally trusted to be what she says she is. After all, everyone knows that born beautiful means doors are opened, jobs, money, men come easily, and certainly the city fathers would knock themselves out to have someone of Pippa's credentials and personal good looks on their roster. I'd used much of the same technique to get what I'd wanted over the years, so why not Pippa?

I said, "They didn't finger print her when she walked through the door, did they? What says she didn't Photo-Shop her picture into someone else's identity?"

"Oh boy, you sure know how to throw the fuel on the fire. The chief is trotting her out to the city council as his newest and brightest. The girl has all the right moves, and he's been talking fast track promotion if things go right in the next few months."

"Not according to Byron. He told his sister that he and Pippa will be transferring to another town soon where they will move in together. If it turns out that Pippa is the killer, I'm afraid that Byron might be about to experience more than a simple broken heart."

"Oh, come on, Lalla. Pippa is every young man's wetdream. Byron's just bragging to his big sister. Besides, what would be her motive?"

"Are you listening to me? Roxanne said, 'What would you do if the love of your life lost their chance at a heart transplant because it went to a convicted felon in prison?' I think she had it right. And the fastest track to any inside information, like a heart transplant recipient, would be through the police department."

Caleb suddenly lost the stubborn face he'd been wearing. "The DA isn't even sure they have an airtight case to present to a grand jury to prosecute Mr. Kim."

"Why? What happened?"

"I think it's the potential of an inaccurate murder charge against a minority business owner during an election year. It doesn't help that we can't locate Grace Kim, or that Mr. Kim won't talk to his defense attorney. Personally, I'm rooting for Mr. Kim." He pushed back his chair. "Can we finish this outside?"