24
D EBBIE TOLD NINA ON THE PHONE that Thursday afternoon, “You better not be making all this up. People on Siesta Court are getting scared of each other. You really think the Cat Lady was murdered?”
“That’s what the medical examiner found.” Nina scratched her ankle, though the poison oak had faded away at last and the scratch was just a leftover nervous tic, like biting her thumbnail. Paul had gone to town to talk to Crockett again.
“Well, I asked around about the money. Whoever set the fires and killed Danny and Ruthie has to be found. But you have to understand, these are my friends.”
“Hear anything back yet?”
“I’ve heard plenty. But not about the sixty-two hundred fifty dollars.”
“Anything you have heard might help us.”
“Do you really believe your client, that young man-”
“Wish Whitefeather-”
“Didn’t kill Danny?”
“I know he didn’t, Debbie.”
“Of course, you’d have to say that. I don’t know why, but I believe you anyhow. Well, then. Darryl and Tory had a loud discussion this morning before Darryl left for work. I couldn’t help but hear part of it. Darryl told Tory he’s not happy and Tory was crying and carrying on. She’s pregnant.”
“Is it about your sister? Elizabeth?”
“Mm-hmm. So I called Elizabeth and I wanted to know whether she and Darryl-I mean, it’s none of my business in a way, but she
“Sure.”
“And she said, no, she doesn’t want to have anything to do with Darryl,
“What?”
“Darryl called home from school and picked up the message instead! And he called me and wanted to know everything. I told him that’s all I knew. I was
“Not good,” Nina said.
Debbie heaved a sigh. “I was just trying to help out. So I called Elizabeth. And she said she was sorry she ever told me about Ben and she must have been out of her mind. I’m afraid I’ve complicated things.”
Nina thought about this, decided she couldn’t link it to Danny, arson, or murder, and said, “Has anything else happened, Debbie?”
“Well, David-you know, the Cowans on the corner-he usually sleeps late, into the afternoon, because he goes to the observatory at night. But this morning I heard the Boxster start up early. One time last year Danny told me that David tried to hire him to spy on Britta. Danny laughed when he told me this and I was curious as to why he was laughing, and the whole sordid story came out that Danny couldn’t spy on
“Oh. You mean, Danny and Britta.”
“Right. None of us can understand why David stays with her. He actually made a joke about it once. He said he was getting the lay of the land.”
“What else did Danny tell you, Debbie? About anything?”
Debbie needed a moment to change her focus. Then she said, “Lots of stuff. We talked quite a bit.”
“Ever talk about this guy named Coyote?”
“Just that he knew this part-Washoe character who lived out in the woods. A drinker. How is Nate?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’d like to bring him something. I bet he doesn’t have any clothes or anything.”
“That would be nice.” Nina gave Debbie a number to call.
“By the way, I’m sorry Sam was rude to you when you and your friend came over. Sam hasn’t been himself.”
“No problem.” Nina hung up.
What had she learned? Nothing, she thought, but she had enjoyed talking to Debbie, a talented gossip. She ought to have a talk show: She’s another Oprah, she thought.
She called Jaime at the D.A.’s office and had the incredible luck of finding him in. “I’d like to come down and see you,” she said.
“About?”
“Ruth Frost’s murder.”
“I’ve already consulted with my boss on that. She may have been murdered, but I don’t know why or by who, so I can’t link it to the arson case. So I’m not dismissing, you’re wasting your breath.”
“But why else would someone kill this poor woman? She had no money to steal. Come on, Jaime, you think someone did it to lash out at cat lovers?”
“We’ll find out. This is my only free time today, Nina, what else do you have?”
“Is there any progress on finding Robert Johnson?”
“Coyote? I haven’t heard a thing. State highway patrol has his license number, though, so we ought to grab him soon.”
“Before he takes these children as he threatened to do on the phone?”
“You mean the schizophrenic kid’s statement? Let me tell you, Nina, I’m using the word
“You should warn the parents and grandparents on Siesta Court, Jaime. I don’t like having this information-”
“What evidence do you have that this alleged threat has anything to do with them?”
“The conchos in his tent link him to the fire.”
“They’re similar to the ones on the dead man’s belt, yeah.”
“He had an infusion of cash. That fits Nate’s story.”
“But doesn’t link him to the fires.”
“He worked on Ruth Frost’s car!”
“So we’re back to that. It isn’t a credible threat yet, Nina. I’m not going to throw those people into a panic.”
Five more minutes with Jaime convinced her that Wish was facing a real live preliminary hearing in ten days and she’d better get ready for it. She called a temporary secretarial service and arranged to interview someone the next day at Paul’s office. There would be motions, all kinds of paperwork.
Let the cramming begin. She had always been a crammer in school.
All right, let hell break loose, she could prepare for that with ten days’ lead time!
“Hi, Nate.” The boy looked at her slackly. He had been watching afternoon soap operas on TV. An orderly at the facility hung around close by, curious.
“Hi.” A string of saliva ran from the corner of his mouth and he looked pale and wan. She thought, Maybe he was better off undermedicated.
“How are you doing?”
He watched the TV. Diamonique bracelets were on sale on QVC. “It’s okay. But they never gave me any ice cream.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can help with that. Nate, you remember, when we came and got you”-he was nodding-“you told us why you had been chained to the tree?”
“Chained to the tree. I was.”
“Could you tell me again about the phone call you overheard?”
“Wee-zull. The phone call I overheard. The phone made a song and he answered. His face got funny and he looked around for me, but I was outside listening inside. He said, Don’t try to stiff me. It’s that simple. Or else I’ll take the children.”
“Did he say anything else about the children? Which children, Nate?”
“No.”
“Do you remember calling me at the court?”
“You weren’t there. She wrote it down.”
“Right. And you mentioned fire in your phone call. And you said something about ‘the big one.’ Remember?”
Nina waited, biting her nail. Nate hadn’t turned his head from the TV. He sounded remarkably coherent compared with the last time she had talked to him. Nina had represented mental patients before and believed that antipsychotic medications, with their side effects, were often overused in the interests of the institutions, not the patients. But today Nate sounded almost normal: dulled out, drooling, but almost coherent. The medicine was helping him, she had to admit.
“Take the children. Take the children. Take the children. Take the-” Again, Nina felt the clutch of fear.
“Thanks, Nate. Thanks very much. A friend of mine will be coming to see you soon. Dr. Cervenka. You’ll like him. He looks like Santa Claus.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know where your brother might have gone?”
“He must be dead.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Or he’d come get me out of here.”
“You-you want him to come get you?”
“He always took care of me. I don’t like it here.”
Nina walked swiftly down the concrete-floored hall to the front and was let out. At the counter, she asked the attendant where she could find the nearest ice-cream place. She dropped off a half- gallon of Neapolitan for Nate before she headed for Carmel Valley down 68.