several minutes, Farris jotted lines into a notebook. Finally he closed it and put it away. “Okay,” he said. “I’ve got all that. Tell the sheriff that with everything happening down here right now, I’ll probably have to stay over tonight.”
Farris closed his phone and turned to Ali. “So much for Curtis Uttley,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Ali asked.
“I mean he’s over,” Farris said. “Dead as a doornail. One of the construction workers on the new Burro Creek Bridge found what everybody thought was an unidentified jumper down in the bottom of the canyon yesterday morning. Except when they got around to doing the autopsy this afternoon, it turns out he wasn’t a jumper at all. Signs of restraints on his ankles and wrists, and the guy was dead before he ever hit the ground. The ME says his injuries are mostly blunt force trauma. So somebody beat the crap out of him the same way they did Kip Hogan. And tonight when the Mojave County ME finally got around to running the dead guy’s fingerprints through AFIS, guess what? Curtis Uttley’s name came up because of the thumbprint on his California driver’s license, which he hadn’t bothered to change.”
“They killed him?” Ali asked.
Farris nodded.
“And they took his vehicle,” Ali added. “Just like they took my dad’s truck after they attacked Kip.”
“Looks like,” Lee Farris agreed. “Luckily for your dad, they blew a tire on that Bronco of his or it would still be gone. It also looks like you’re real lucky you didn’t catch up with this creepo today. His losing you was the best thing that could have happened. Otherwise we’d probably be looking for you now, too.”
Half sick to her stomach, Ali knew it was true. She hadn’t been following Curt Uttley-she had been following Curt Uttley’s killer, and if she had managed to catch him, no doubt she’d be dead as well. So far both she and Crystal had been incredibly lucky.
CHAPTER 11
The door to the conference room opened. Dave Holman emerged from the room. His daughter did not.
“We’ve had our little father/daughter chat,” he said. “Crystal says she’s too embarrassed to come out, and maybe that’s a good thing.”
Folding a piece of paper and stuffing it in his jacket pocket, Dave looked from Lee’s face to Ali’s. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Uttley’s dead,” Farris said without preamble. “Somebody killed him and threw him over the guardrail where they’re building that new bridge at Burro Creek.”
Dave took a few seconds to process that. “Thank God for small blessings,” he said. “Saves me the trouble.”
Farris nodded. “I’m on my way to Tempe right now to see what I can do about tracking down our bad guys.”
“Me, too,” Dave Holman said.
“No,” Farris objected. “Absolutely not.”
“What do you mean, no?” Dave argued. “At this stage of the investigation, the more feet on the ground the better.”
“Not your feet,” Farris returned. “We need uninvolved feet, Dave. We need people with no ax to grind. Uttley’s murder happened in Mojave County. They’ve got a pair of detectives headed this way. We’ll be able to use them. The attack on Mr. Hogan happened in my jurisdiction, and I’ll be working the case as well. What I want you to do is walk away and let us handle this.”
“I’m supposed to ignore that one of these guys was hanging around here looking for my daughter?”
“That’s all the more reason for you
“I’m off duty,” Dave pointed out. “What I do on my own time is none of your business.”
For a long tense moment, the two men squared off, staring eye to eye. Afraid punches might be thrown, Ali held her breath. Lee Farris was the first to blink.
“Look,” he said with a conciliatory sigh. “You know you’re too close to this part of the investigation to be unbiased, but there is something you could do. How about if you head down to Chandler and see if you can locate Mr. Hogan’s daughter? You’re a cop, but you’re also one of his friends. It would be a big help to me, Dave. That would mean one less thing I’d have to worry about.”
Dave thought about that for a time. “All right,” he said at last. “Fine.”
“Good,” Farris said. “Thanks. You have all the information you need?”
Dave nodded. “I’ve got it,” he said.
With that, Detective Farris strode off. As soon as he was out of sight, Dave, too, headed for the lobby door, with Ali trailing behind. “Where are you going?” she asked. “Chandler?”
Dave shook his head. “Tempe,” he said grimly.
“But I thought you said…”
“I lied,” Dave said. “Besides, I still have these.” He reached into his pocket and unfolded the three composite sketches. “I’ll stop by a Kinko’s on my way and make a bunch of copies, then I’ll start canvassing gas stations and grocery stores in the area. Even bad guys have to eat and buy gas. If the driver of that Explorer could access a garage door with an opener, chances are he lives somewhere around there. Somebody is going to recognize him.”
“What about contacting Kip’s daughter?” Ali objected.
“I’m sorry,” Dave said. “Getting these guys off the street is a hell of a lot more important than doing a next- of-kin notification.” He opened a small notebook, tore out a page, and handed it to Ali. “If it’s so important to you, you do the notification. You’re Kip’s friend every bit as much as I am. Or maybe your father can do it. We’re dealing with a bunch of cold-blooded killers, Ali. They’re out there looking for Crystal. Right now, finding them is my first priority.”
“What about Crystal?” Ali asked.
“What about her?”
Dave, suddenly focused on the hunt, was prepared to head out without uttering a word to his daughter. “You can’t just walk away and leave her here,” Ali said.
“I can’t very well take her with me, either,” Dave said. “Could I leave her with you awhile longer?”
As Dave’s friend, Ali had listened sympathetically to his version of how the wheels had come off his marriage. The way he told it, Roxanne had been largely to blame. In that instant though, as he prepared to walk away without a word, Ali understood the end of the marriage wasn’t all Roxie’s fault. Whenever duty called-whatever kind of duty-Dave would have been off and running, leaving Roxie holding the bag, juggling the three kids and trying to keep the home fires burning.
In two days, Ali had had more than a bellyful of Crystal Holman, and she wasn’t eager to sign on for more. “Did you make any progress when you talked to her?” Ali asked.
“Some I suppose,” Dave said with a shrug. “We called her mother from the conference room and talked to her together. Roxie says she and Richey will drive down tomorrow and take Crystal home. But that’s tomorrow. Tonight I can’t very well take her along to Tempe with me. It’s too dangerous. What if something were to happen to her?”
“Thank you,” Dave said. “Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome,” Ali said. “But you’re not leaving without telling her what’s going on. You’re her father, Dave. She needs to hear it from you, not from me.”
“All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “I’ll tell her.”
