New River Blues (30 page)

‘He picked me out for this. At the Spotted Pony.' He was beginning to look a little sick. ‘Here I am, thinking I'm so smart, coming back and telling Pauly, “I met this swishy guy in a bar and he took a liking to me right away, he's gonna find us a soft job with a room so you can quit this stupid burger joint.” And all along that little dickhead of a Madge is figuring me for a patsy. Shit. And now poor Pauly's dead. Aw, Christ!' He buried his face in his hands.

Sarah and Ray, for a few minutes, found themselves in the unlikely position of consoling the prisoner. The game isn't over, they told him, we'll get Madge in here and get at the truth.

‘You kidding?' he said. ‘Madge never told anybody the truth in his whole life. He wouldn't know the truth if it jumped up and bit him!' He leaned his head against the cold gray wall beside him and said, mostly to himself, ‘I need to grow up and quit being a fool.'

He was perfectly cheerful about going to jail while the crime got sorted out. He knew, he said, that he had made himself look guilty by running. ‘It's just –' he ducked his head apologetically, looked into the corner – ‘the only thing I know to do, I guess.'

For now, the detectives weren't pressing him on the subject of the other crimes he had run from. He had delivered for them wonderfully on the Henderson case. Sarah could see how tired he was, and suspected that a jail cell and three meals a day did not sound so bad after the pepper fields. While he waited for his transport, they were outside with Delaney, agreeing to re-interview Zack and Felicity, and to find Madge.

‘But probably not tomorrow,' Sarah said.

‘Why not tomorrow?' Delaney asked her.

‘Tomorrow's Friday. Eloise's funeral. Ray and I want to go.'

Sarah had just emptied her In Basket and was shutting down her computer when the phone rang. It was two minutes after five and she considered not answering, then snatched it up and said, ‘Burke.'

‘This is Joyce Anders.'

She could almost place the voice. Searching her brain, she let a heartbeat pass. The voice said, ‘Frisky Ladies?'

‘Oh, yes. Of course, hello.' She was too surprised to sound any way but surprised, but her response was not a problem because Joyce Anders talked right on over the top of it.

As serenely as if they had been chatting every afternoon for years, she said in her Marlboro Girl contralto, ‘I've been thinking, since you called. And it seems to me I could probably save you some time if we had a little talk.'

Twice in one week, a total stranger wants to save me some time.
‘That sounds good.'

‘Yes. And since I'll be in Tucson tomorrow on other business I thought I'd ask, what time would be good for you?'

‘I can do nine o'clock, that's probably a little too early for you, isn't it? Or late afternoon, though that's a little iffier, it depends what happens.'

‘Nine o'clock is fine,' Joyce Anders said. ‘Thank you, Detective, I'll see you then.'

There was a distinct little click and Sarah sat listening to the hum of the dead phone in her hand thinking,
I hope she knows how many freeway exits are blocked off downtown.
Evidently Joyce Anders was too hip to ask about small things like street construction.

But now it was ten after five and she was really leaving, even though the phone was ringing again as she picked up her purse, found her keys. She walked away thinking,
Leave a message
, and as she approached the elevators her voice came on instructing the caller to leave a message. After the tone Janine's voice, high and uncertain, said, ‘Sarah?' There was jukebox music playing behind her, bar noises on top of it.

Sarah sprinted for the phone, grabbed it up. ‘Janine? Janine, are you there? Hello!'

The phone was dead again. She put it back on its cradle and said, to the top of it, ‘Damn you to hell, Janine.'

Tobin, who had observed her mad dash past his cubicle, stood in his doorway putting on his jacket, saying, ‘Usually that thing works better if you pick it up, Sarah.' He was smiling, but his eyes said he would listen if she needed to talk.

But now it was sixteen past five and she was going to make her mother late for Keno. She laughed, waved a hand, and said, ‘Just cussing out my favorite sister again,' and ran back to the elevator.

Dusk was already purpling the mountains and there was a little hint of chill, just enough to make you think about Thanksgiving. Aggie had said she wanted to cook the feast at her house, have Sam there. She had already invited Will Dietz. Sarah was bringing salad. They both wanted it nice for Denny. Sarah didn't know whether to wish Janine could be there, or hope she'd stay away.
Of course it doesn't matter what I wish.
As usual, she had no power to control what Janine would do.

An ancient Nissan with bald tires pulled into her carport as she approached her house. A stranger who looked as if he might have slept in the vehicle got out of it, and wobbled up to her door. He must be lost, she thought, as she parked behind Dietz's car at the curb. Reaching for her purse and briefcase, she watched the stranger ring her bell. Denny opened the door, smiling, saying, ‘Did you forget your—' and then, ‘Oh.'

‘Hi, there, honey,' the man said. ‘You must be Denny.'

Speechless, Denny gave him one of her most dubious nods.

‘I've got your mom out here in the car,' the man said, swaying gently, ‘why don't you come out and say hello?' Sarah saw now that he was very drunk. He reached out toward Denny, saying, ‘Come on, kid! We'll take a ride!'

Sarah was hurrying toward them, but Will Dietz was in the doorway now, asking quietly, ‘What's up?'

‘Hi, I'm Jack Smathers. A friend of Janine's?' He put out his hand. Dietz made no move to take it and he let it fall. ‘We came to take her little girl for a ride,' he said.

Sarah saw Denny take a step back and Dietz move a little so he blocked the doorway. ‘I don't think this is a very good time,' he said. ‘Denny has to do her homework now.'

Sarah met Dietz's eyes from the sidewalk where she stood behind the stranger, who smelled really bad up close. She made a small gesture toward the car and he nodded, Go ahead. She turned and walked back to it, saw Janine sitting in the passenger seat. She walked around the back of the vehicle, pulled open the front door, and said, ‘Hello, Janine.'

‘Hey!' Janine gave her a supercharged but unfocused smile, aimed somewhere beyond her shoulder. ‘How are you, Sissy?' She tried to get out, didn't quite make it and fell back, muttering, ‘Damn seats are so low—'

Maybe if I'm very calm.
‘I almost got your phone call at the station,' Sarah said, ‘but you were too quick for me.'

‘Oh, that's me,' Janine said, ‘old quick-draw.'

‘Yes. Where are you staying, Janine?'

‘Oh . . . here and there.' She grabbed Sarah's hand and said, ‘How's my Denny?'

‘She's great. You can be again, too, Janine, if you'll let me help you.'

‘Now, Sarah, don't start.'

‘OK.' She held up a hand. ‘OK! Do you want to come in now, say hello?'

‘Well, I'm a little too . . . we were hoping to take her for a ride.'

‘Denny can't leave right now. But will you come back to see her on Saturday? Please? That's the day after tomorrow,' she added helpfully.

She knew at once she had gone too far. Janine was never too addled to know when she was being treated like an idiot, and was instantly aflame with the anger that was always her favorite evasion tactic. ‘I know what day it is, Sarah, fuck you,' she yelled. ‘Always so damn superior!'

Leaning over, she blew the horn. It worked very well; the battery on this heap must be in better shape than the tires. She blew apart the quiet on the peaceful street, hitting the horn again and again and yelling at her messy lover, ‘Come on! Let's go!'

And then, in a much quieter voice, ‘Oh, shit.' Because her mother was parking her car behind Sarah's at the curb.

Aggie pulled a sack of groceries out with her as she got out, locked the car, and walked toward them, squinting. She looked across the car, saw Sarah standing there, and said, ‘What's going on?'

Janine blew the horn again and her friend turned away from Dietz and staggered across the sidewalk, saying, ‘Whaddya
want
, for Chrissake?' He almost bowled over Aggie, who dodged on to the gravel. She stood among the cactus in the yard and watched, astonished, as the foul-smelling stranger got into the Nissan, ground the motor a couple of times, and backed down the driveway. He turned a little too soon, demolished the cholla nearest the sidewalk, and missed the mailbox by a quarter-inch. A neighbor, coming home, just managed to stay out of his way at the corner.

‘Sarah,' Aggie said, ‘who on earth was that?'

‘Janine's new friend,' Sarah said. ‘Hang on a sec.' She had memorized the license number, out of habit, and now she speed-dialed the dispatch number and reported it, described the make and color of the car and the drunkenness of the driver. ‘There,' she said as she folded up the phone. She took the grocery sack out of her mother's arms. ‘You have to leave right now if you want to play Keno.'

‘Sarah, was Janine in that car?'

‘Yes, she was, and yes, that'll probably get her arrested.'

‘Honey, do you really want to—'

‘No, but they didn't leave me any choice. We can talk about it tomorrow. We've all had a hard enough day, why let them take up the whole damn night too? Go and have some fun, Mom. I have a feeling Janine is going to be all too easy to find for a while.'

‘You're right.' Aggie reached up and kissed her. ‘Chili's ready on the stove. French bread in the sack.' She waved to Dietz in the doorway and hurried back to her car.

Sarah carried the groceries into the house, where Denny was clearing away her homework. As Dietz put down three water glasses, Denny looked sideways at him and said, ‘We're supposed to write a how-to paragraph for English class tomorrow, about something we know how to do. You think you could show me how to clean your gun?'

Dietz's startled eyes met Sarah's over Denny's head. Sarah smiled back at him sweetly. Her eyes said,
Handle it.

‘Sure,' he said, ‘be glad to.' He watched her stack her homework on that one small spot on the buffet. ‘I suppose we might get some complaints from parents about what their kids are learning in fifth grade, though. Why don't you write a paragraph about how to take up the least possible space? I notice you're good at that.'

‘Who wants to know that?'

‘Oh, I think that's going to be the next big thing,' Sarah said, ‘now that everybody's talking about how to leave a smaller carbon footprint.'

‘Oh.' Denny thought about it as she balanced her English notebook on top of her math. She giggled. ‘You mean like keeping all your socks and underwear in two shoeboxes under your bed?'

‘Exactly,' Dietz said, ‘and using the same table for homework and dinner and card games.'

She gave him the Dubious Denny look. ‘What card games?'

‘Well, if you can write that how-to paragraph fast enough,' he said, ‘I'll teach you how to play Texas hold-'em before bedtime.'

Joyce Anders managed the tricky traffic off the Interstate without mishap, apparently; on Friday morning, she walked into the station at nine o'clock precisely, wearing a perfectly fitted pale beige suit and stone-colored sling-back pumps. She had medium-length honey-colored hair that barely turned under at the ends, a discreet gleam of pearls at her throat and ears, and a slim alligator attaché case that quietly whispered, ‘Money.' Her make-up appeared light to non-existent except for some cleverly composed magic that highlighted her topaz eyes.

Sarah had an interview room set up and a willing crew of monitors – Peete had traded Tobin unrevealed hours of dog work for one of the spots, and Menendez was in the other chair. He could ill afford the time, since he was going to the cemetery with Sarah in an hour, but he rationalized ignoring his voicemail, saying, ‘After all, she says she's going to save us time later.'

The visitor turned down an offer of coffee, accepted water, and sat relaxed, in apparent comfort, on the small round stool.
A dozen years or so older than I am
, Sarah estimated,
but very much still in the game.

‘I know you're busy, Detective,' she said as soon as Sarah sat down, ‘so I'll get right down to it.' She crossed her legs – a whisper of nylon, a whiff of sandalwood and spice. ‘By now you've obviously figured out that Roger Henderson's car was at my house last weekend, and you'd like to know if he was there too.'

‘Yes,' Sarah said. ‘It would be very helpful if there were some way I could know that for sure.'

‘Right. And since Roger and I are very old friends – and if you nosed around you'd no doubt find some people who've known us both since we were new friends – you probably wouldn't want to take my word for where he was, would you?'

‘Not so much a matter of what I want, really,' Sarah said, ‘as of what would hold up in court.'
I'll get right down to it, too.

‘Isn't that the truth? So what you'd need, I guess,' Joyce said, thoughtfully, ‘is corroboration by a second person.'

‘What his defense attorney would need, you mean,' Sarah said. ‘I'm on the other side. What
I
need is enough incriminating evidence to give the county attorney so he can get somebody indicted for killing those two people in the Henderson house.'