A Deadly Wilderness, page 20
“So he had time to meet Joey Doyle at the park, take a hike with him, stab him, throw him over a cliff and head to the camera shop.” Ray leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. Deborah had opened a whole new can of worms. He might have to go fishing.
“Plenty of time.”
“Time to visit with Sarah and Tommy again.” Ray tested the waters.
“Uh, we’ll be doing that.” Oscar looked apologetic. “It’s our case now, remember?”
“We know all the players. You’re gonna need us.” Deborah gave the detective that dazzling smile Ray had seen her turn on other men. It didn’t reach her eyes, but they never seemed to notice. They usually looked as if they’d been hit by a two-ton truck. “As consultants. This case could make or break your careers. Come on, Oscar, you need us.”
Oscar exchanged glances with Mallory. Ray could almost see the same silent communication going on between them that he and Samuel had once had as partners. The key word was once.
“We’ll check out Sarah Doyle. Maybe they kissed and made up. We also get the ex-wife’s house. That’s the obvious place for him to go if the breakup stuck. You guys have done a lot of work on this and to be honest, I don’t mind keeping you in the loop. Alvarez was wrong to fold under pressure and take you off the case. So. Nose around where Wheeler worked, maybe look up some of his friends. Just keep it on the q. t. and stay away from the Doyles. Alvarez finds out, my butt is in a sling.”
“Our butts.” Lindstrom didn’t look happy, but then she never did.
“Thanks.” Ray meant it.
“Hey, us frontline guys have to stick together.”
Ray and Deborah stood at the same time.
“No problem. We’ll let you know if we find out anything.” He hoped Trevino and Lindstrom would extend the same courtesy.
As soon as the other two detectives left, Deborah chuckled softly. “Nice dance you did there, partner. I’ve got an old address for Tommy. Actually, for a roommate of his. That qualifies as looking up an old friend, right? His wife said he bunked with the guy before he hooked up with Sarah. She thinks he’d probably go back there if Sarah kicked him out of the mansion.”
Twenty minutes later, they were parked in front of a duplex in a neighborhood about five miles from the University of Texas at San Antonio. The area had seen better days—it was mostly student rental housing that needed fresh paint and a lot of yard work.
“That’s Wheeler’s Taurus in the driveway.” Deborah snapped her gum in glee as she checked the license plate against the file in her hand. “Excellent. Maybe we’re about to catch a break here.”
Deborah took the lead, knocking on the door while Ray hobbled around the dusty car, leaning on his cane. It didn’t look like the vehicle had been moved in a while. The tinted windows hid the interior.
“If you’re looking for Tommy, he’s not here.” Ray turned to study the guy who came through the door and stopped on the concrete stoop. He was skinny, white, mid-twenties, and he kept hitching up a pair of jean shorts to almost cover his red boxers. He wore no shirt, and his eyes had that glassy look that said he’d had a few drinks.
“But this is his car, right? Does he live here?” Deborah held out her badge.
He took his time looking at it, then nodded, his expression wary. “Yeah, I guess. I mean I live here. I’m Chris Sampson. I let him crash after his girlfriend cut him loose. Why you want Tommy?”
“We just want to talk to him.” Ray hobbled up the steps to join him. “Any idea where we can find him?”
“He ain’t been around in a while. I don’t know where he is or when he’s coming back.” The guy scratched his belly. Ray had the urge to take a step back. Given the guy’s lack of hygiene, he could have fleas. “He don’t even have any stuff here. I think it’s still in the car.”
“So why leave the car here?”
“He said I could use it if I let him crash here. As usual, Tommy doesn’t have no money. ’Course the car, it don’t start. The battery’s dead. Not much of a deal for me.”
“Tommy talk to you much, tell you what was going on with him?”
Sampson shrugged and sat down on the stoop, his legs sticking out. The bottom of his feet were black with dirt. “Sure, he liked to brag a lot about the rich chick he dated. Said she was kind of a dog to look at, but loaded to the max. He’d get a few drinks in him and start telling me how he was going to come into some money himself, and then he was gonna cut her—”
“Did he say where the money was coming from?” Ray tried hard to keep his disgust off his face. If Tommy Wheeler was the murderer, Ray would take pleasure in putting the guy away.
“Naw. I don’t think so. If he did, I wasn’t listening. He talks a lot; I mostly tune him out. His daddy is third cousin to my mom; that’s the only reason I let him in. He’s family, you know. Kind of.”
“So, Tommy’s not here, but his car is.” Deborah sauntered around the car, her tone casual. “So, it’s kind of your car.”
“Sort of. I got the keys.” Sampson sounded overly satisfied for being in possession of a car that didn’t start.
Ray recognized the look on his partner’s face. “No, Deborah. Don’t even think about it.”
“Hey, the car practically belongs to the guy. He can give us permission to search it.”
“Uh-huh. We screw this up with an illegal search, and we might never nail the guy who—” Ray stopped. The guy who nearly killed Susana and Marco. The guy who might have destroyed any chance Ray had for a relationship with the woman he loved.
“Can we take a peek?” Deborah ignored Ray and broke out the big-gun smile again. Ray could almost see the guy morph into a puddle at her feet.
“Sure, yeah, like whatever you need, man.” Sampson dug the key from the pocket of his filthy shorts. Deborah took it when Ray didn’t respond. “Ain’t nothing in there but dirty clothes anyway. Y’all want a beer?”
Ray declined the offer before Deborah could answer. She laughed as Sampson disappeared into the house. “Party pooper. I was going to say no. I don’t drink on the job—much.”
“I’m glad you find that so funny.” Ray crossed his arms, an uneasy feeling in his gut as Deborah unlocked the Taurus.
Turned out Sampson knew what he was talking about. They didn’t have to touch anything, because there was nothing to touch. No bloody clothes. No weapons. Just a pile of stinking takeout boxes from a Chinese restaurant, a mound of stale cigarette butts, and a disgusting amount of dirty clothes that reeked of mold and body odor.
Ray wiped sweat from his face, stepped away from the car, and watched Deborah slam the door in disgust. “So what now?”
“Maybe Oscar and Mallory had better luck with Sarah.” Deborah dusted her hands on her slacks and pulled cigarettes from her pocket. “Or the ex-wife’s place. I guess we go back to the station, hunt them down.”
“Yeah.” Ray leaned against the Crown Vic, contemplating. Samuel probably wondered where they were. He’d probably already assigned them another case. The reprieve wouldn’t last much longer. “We need to get back anyway. Samuel will get suspicious.”
“Naw. He’s probably too busy looking for someone to blame for his supreme unhappiness.”
“What do you know . . .” An annoying kernel of truth presented itself in Deborah’s cavalier assessment of his friend’s state of mind. “Give the guy a break. He’s under a lot of pressure.”
Deborah flicked her cigarette butt onto the street and opened her door. “Not anymore.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Ray didn’t try to make conversation on the thirty-minute drive back to the station. Deborah seemed lost in thought, and he was trying to figure out how to approach Susana to see if she still planned to go to Assistant Chief Guerrero’s retirement banquet with him. If she didn’t answer the phone, and no one would tell him where she was, he didn’t see much hope for that second date. Deborah rushed ahead of him into the building and disappeared. If she followed her usual MO, she’d reappear at her desk in ten or fifteen minutes. He didn’t ask and she didn’t tell.
He plopped down in his chair. A second later his phone rang, jangling already-stretched nerves.
“Ray, I can’t go to the retirement banquet with you Friday night.”
The split second of relief Ray had felt hearing Susana’s voice disappeared as the message registered. No need to wonder any longer. She was bailing—and not just for the banquet. An already-knotted gut tightened. He tried to concentrate on convincing Susana not to throw away the fledgling start they’d made.
“Can I ask why not?” He kept his voice soft, trying to rekindle the connection between them.
“I can’t. I’m sorry—I’ll pay you for my ticket—” Her voice faltered. “Marco’s already lost one parent.”
“Susana, I don’t want your money. Don’t do this. Please.” He struggled for words that would convince her. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
“You wouldn’t have to do that if you weren’t a cop.”
“This is what I do.” Anger blew through him. She didn’t play fair.
“Exactly.”
“Well, if you don’t think I’m worth it—that we’re worth it, I guess that’s that.” A glance from Deborah as she slid into the seat at her desk across from his said his voice had risen. The room had quieted. He reached for a calmer tone. “I thought we were past this.”
“It might be worth it, if it were just me, but it’s not. Get on with your life, Ray.”
She sounded so sure. The sick feeling in his stomach boiled into sudden, overwhelming anger at her, at the situation, at everything. “I never took you for a coward.”
“A coward? After everything I’ve been through. You’re just thinking of you. Think about Marco. About everything he’s been through.”
“I am. He needs a dad.”
“His dad is dead.”
“And I can never be the great Javier. I know that. I’m not trying to be him. I just—”
“Don’t ever talk about Javier—you don’t know anything about him.” Her fury clawed at him through the line.
“I know that. But I don’t want to marry Javier.” He stood, yelling into the phone. “I want to marry you.”
Deborah stared at a stack of papers in front of her. All sound in the room ceased.
“I can’t go to the banquet.” Susana’s voice was small now, full of unshed tears. “Ask Teresa Saenz. She’s a cop. She likes you. She’s perfect for you. Have a good life, Ray.”
Ray listened to the dial tone. “Fine, I will. No problem.”
He glanced at Deborah who stared back, the expression on her face unfathomable. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Everyone started moving again. Conversations resumed. Fine, he would get on with his life. He sank into his chair and tossed around papers until he found Teresa’s cell phone number. With a finger shaking with anger, he stabbed the buttons before he could talk himself out of it.
“Officer Saenz.”
“Teresa, it’s Ray. I know it’s short notice, but I happen to have an extra ticket to Jaime Guerrero’s retirement banquet tomorrow night. Would you be interested in going with me?”
A pause stretched.
“Teresa?”
“Look, Ray, I’m really sorry, but I already have a date for tomorrow night. When you were busy with Susana at the reception, Greg Miller asked me for my number. I gave it to him. I’m really sorry.”
Lightheaded with embarrassment, Ray covered his eyes with one hand, shutting out the light. “Don’t apologize. You have every right to accept an invitation from someone else.”
“I wouldn’t have said yes to you anyway. You’re in love with another woman. Despite what I said the other night, I’d be crazy to risk that kind of heartache.”
“Right. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Not about me, you weren’t.” Her tone was kind. “I hope you work it out with her. You deserve to be happy.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“Good-bye, Ray.”
He dropped the phone, shoved back his chair, and got up. He needed some air. “Cover for me. I’ll be back.”
Deborah nodded, a hint of sympathy on her face.
Twenty minutes of limping around downtown, sweating, did nothing to improve his mood. He stomped across the lobby, headed for the CID.
“Detective! Johnson! Hey!”
Ray looked up. Janet Hutchens, a notebook in one hand and a huge iced tea mug in the other, hustled toward him. She wore a neon green dress and pink flip-flops. He never knew whether to trust Janet, as a journalist or otherwise. She approached her job the same way he did his—with ferocious dedication. Too often that put them on a collision course.
“What do you want?” He glanced at his watch, ignoring her smile.
“After all we’ve been through together, you could be a little nicer to me, ya know. I’m not so bad.”
The sincerity in her voice made him cringe. She obviously didn’t know he wasn’t on the Doyle case anymore. “All media requests go to the PIO. You know that.”
“This is me, Ray. We have a history. Come on. I finagled a copy of the supplemental on a drive-by shooting less than twelve hours after Melody Doyle was picked off by a SWAT sharpshooter. A guy in a BMW tried to gun you down in front of Susana Martinez-Acosta’s house. Why so hush-hush on this? Is it because Susana Acosta is Samuel Martinez’s sister?”
She looked like a hound dog that’d picked up a scent.
“Leave her out of this, do you understand?” Ray leaned into her space, his rage boiling over. “Leave her out of this. If I see her name in print, I swear to you, I will hunt you down and run you out of this town.”
“Are you threatening me?” Hutchens planted her feet, her chin up. A couple of people in the lobby stopped and stared.
A uniformed cop he didn’t recognize eased their direction. “We got a problem here?”
Ray flashed his badge. “No. No problem, bro. This lady was just leaving.”
The cop drifted back across the lobby, but Hutchins didn’t budge. “You can’t intimidate me with threats.”
“You can take it however you want, Hutchens. Back off.”
“You’re losing it.” Hutchens’s tone was soft, but she was relentless. She reached out and put one hand on his arm. Her long fingernails matched the color of her dress. “It’s no wonder. You’re under a lot of pressure. My colleague at the courthouse picked up a copy of the Doyles’ criminal negligence suit. How do you feel about them suing you, knowing they hold you responsible for their daughter-in-law’s death?”
“That’s a stupid question. How do you think I feel?” Ray jerked away from her. “The Doyles drove her out on that balcony—”
“Detective Johnson.” Ray swiveled. The door to the CID stood open. The stony look on Samuel’s face was clear evidence he’d heard the exchange. “I’d like to see you in my office. Now. Hutchens, you want comment, call the PIO. I’d appreciate it if you went through channels on this one.”
Hutchens glanced from Samuel to Ray and back, her lips pursed. “Sure, Sarge. I’ll get back to you on this.” She gave Ray a small wave and strolled away, leaving him to face Samuel.
Samuel waited until Ray stepped into the office to speak. “Are you crazy? Didn’t I just tell you not to talk to the media? Do you want to be unemployed?”
Ray’s gaze collided with Samuel’s. All he could see was supervisor, not friend. “No, sir.”
“Then get it together.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Just a couple of hours. For me.” Piper’s voice on the phone had taken on a wheedling tone that made her sound more like her nine-year-old daughter than a mother of three. “You already paid for the ticket. Joaquin and Lily are sitting at our table.”
Ray resisted the temptation to give into his best friend’s wife. He shifted the phone from one ear to the other as he ducked under the crime scene tape and walked away from the evidence investigators working a murder scene. Witnesses said a guy had stabbed his drinking buddy to death in a fight over a six-pack and a dime baggie. Some cops would call it a misdemeanor murder, as if people who fought over stupid things got what they deserved. Ray could never take that attitude, but today he did feel as if he were drowning in human waste.
Samuel had assigned him—and Deborah in absentia since she had called in sick—the new case with a minimum of eye contact, dismissing Ray from his office as if he were a stranger. Maybe Samuel thought if he kept them busy, it would keep them out of the Doyle case. Fat chance.
Piper’s words finally registered. “Joaquin and Lily are coming?”
“Yes. Susana is babysitting. She’s been staying with them, you know.”
Piper had been attempting to convince him to come stag to the retirement banquet since the previous day. Knowing Piper, she was not only meddling in his relationship with Susana, but also his friendship with Samuel. If Samuel were as tense at home as he was at the station, she had to know something was up.
“Come on, Ray, it’ll be fun . . . and informative.”
“I don’t know. I’ve got a new case and, to be honest, I’m not up for company right now.” Even as he said the words, Ray wavered. She was dangling a carrot stick in his face. Lily would be an excellent source of information on her sister’s state of mind. At least, he knew for sure where Susana had been staying. Now that Janet Hutchens’s story had been in the newspaper, she’d probably have to stay tucked away there even longer. Ray had made the situation worse by opening his big mouth. “Well, maybe, just for dinner.”
“Excellent. See you there.” Piper sounded jubilant. The woman loved using her powers of persuasion.
