Part 14 (1/2)
”Those first two things-that's dangerous work. I've seen movies that show how those teams operate.”
His hand tightened on the steering wheel. ”Yes. Very dangerous.”
She frowned. ”You chose that sort of work. Something happened to you, too,” she guessed. ”Something traumatic.”
His jaw tautened. ”Something,” he said. He glanced in her direction. ”I don't talk about it.”
”I wasn't prying,” she said, turning her purse over in her lap. ”But you asked me if I talked to anyone about what happened to me.”
”So you did.”
”So turnabout is fair play.”
He didn't answer. He was silent for a time, caught up in the past, in the anguish of those years. The pain was harsh.
She realized she'd stepped on broken gla.s.s and she searched for some way to lighten the tension. ”Do you believe in werewolves?” she asked.
The car swerved faintly. ”Excuse me?” he asked in disbelief.
”I saw this movie. It was very realistic,” she told him. ”I'm sure that I know at least one person who's never seen during full moons. You have to use silver bullets on them, you know, regular lead ones won't work.”
”I don't have a silver bullet to my name,” he pointed out.
”We're in trouble if we run into one,” she remarked dryly.
”Tell you what. If you see a werewolf, you tell me, and I'll rush home and melt down some of the silver service and start making bullets right away.”
”Deal,” she said smugly.
He felt his heart lighten. She was good company, for a shy and damaged spinster. She made him forget the past. He liked being with her.
She was feeling something similar, especially after the way he'd kissed her earlier, with such need and pleasure. She tingled all over remembering how it had felt. Maybe he had a hard time with relations.h.i.+ps, and that was why he wasn't married.
THEY STOPPED at the police department in Palo Verde to talk with its police chief, Gil Mendosa. He was sheepish and embarra.s.sed when Garon told him about their current murder investigation and Marquez's efforts to find out about his department's cold case from him through e-mail that was ignored.
”We had these e-mails that embarra.s.sed Miss Tibbs,” he explained. ”She's seventy, and handles the phone and the mail for us. Well, ever since, if the heading doesn't have something specific about a case in it, she just deletes it unread, like we told her to. Tell Marquez I'm sorry.”
”I will. What we want to know is if you're keeping back any information about the little girl's murder-something you want to keep out of the news.”
The chief glanced at Grace uneasily.
”She's a clam,” Garon told him easily. ”It's all right.”
”Okay, then. Yes, there was one other thing. The man tied a ribbon around her neck and strangled her to death with it. A red ribbon.”
”HERE, SIT DOWN for G.o.d's sake!” Garon growled. He'd caught Grace just as she folded. ”What's the matter?”
She fought for every breath. She couldn't give herself away. She couldn't!
”It's that twenty-four-hour stomach virus that's been going around,” she said with a weak laugh. ”I had it yesterday and it's knocked me to my knees. Drastic way to lose weight, you know.”
”Would you like something to drink?” the chief asked gently.
”How about a martini, shaken, not stirred,” she began, with twinkling gray eyes.
”You can have a Diet c.o.ke,” Garon returned, moving to the drinks machine in the department's canteen with a handful of change, ”if I can find the right change.”
”Don't feed it a dollar bill,” the chief cautioned. ”It eats them.”
She gave him a hard look. ”You're a policeman and you let a machine rob customers right in your own office?” she exclaimed.
”A man we arrested last month got hold of a gun and shot the last machine we had in here,” he replied. ”Two months before that, one of our own officers accidentally hit the machine it replaced with a baseball bat. Don't wonder out loud,” he advised when she started to ask how someone could accidentally smash a machine with a bat. ”So, you see, we can't ask the machine people to give us a third one. They'd never understand.”
”I see your point,” Grace agreed.
Garon handed her an icy cold soft drink. She popped the lid and drank thirstily. ”Oh, that's so good,” she said, sighing. ”Thanks.”
”You should have told me you weren't feeling well,” he said.
She smiled at him. ”You wouldn't have let me come with you.”
He pursed his lips and his dark eyes twinkled. Grace blushed.
Garon forced his attention back to Mendosa, and told him about the witness Marquez had unearthed in San Antonio.
”His name is Sheldon,” Garon said. ”He apparently lived two doors down from the murder victim. Some homicide detectives from San Antonio talked to him. Marquez and I followed up, and he recalled seeing the suspect.”
Mendosa grimaced. ”We had an apparent eyewitness ourselves, a man named Homer Rich. But our former chief said the guy was loopy and he wouldn't let us go talk to him. The witness lived right next door to the child.” He frowned. ”But he doesn't live here now. He moved out of town not long after the murder.”
Garon frowned. ”Was he a suspect?”
”No,” Mendosa said. ”The guy was handsome, he made a good living, although I never knew exactly how he made his money. He had a fiancee somewhere. n.o.body local ever saw her. He wasn't a suspect. In fact, he joined the search when her family knew she was missing. He even printed up some flyers at his own expense.”
Garon didn't say a word. He took notes. But he knew very well that sometimes murder suspects joined in the search and even spoke to the police about the progress of the investigation. He wasn't telling Mendosa. It would only make the man feel bad. He was operating on a shoestring as it was.
”Know where Rich moved to?” he asked.
Mendosa shook his head. ”He kept to himself, mostly. You might ask Ed Reems, he rented the house to Rich.” He gave Garon the address, which he jotted down. ”Ed loves to talk. If he knows anything, he'll tell you.”
”Thanks,” Garon said warmly.
”You're welcome. If you need help, let me know. We're all on the same team, when it comes to murder. I'd love to heat up that cold case and solve it. It haunts me. There's just me and one other part-time officer to handle things here. We have to call in the county sheriff's department for a.s.sistance if anything major breaks. We just don't have the resources to commit to a decent investigation. I hope you catch this guy.”
”You and me and half the FBI,” Garon replied. ”Child killers evoke sympathy from n.o.body, especially if they get sent to prison.”
”Amen. If you need help, just call.”
Garon smiled. ”I will. Thanks.”
GRACE FINISHED her soft drink just as they pulled up at a dingy single-wide trailer on a quiet street just outside the Palo Verde city limits.