would she say to him? How would she tell him?
“Am I still in the doghouse?” Ali’s mother wanted to know.
Ali was still so shaken by what she’d just seen that it was difficult to get a fix on what Edie was saying. “No,” Ali answered at last. “You’re out of it. Chris and I had a chance to talk. Everything is fine.”
“You’re sure?” Edie asked. “You don’t sound fine.”
“I’m sure,” Ali said more forcefully.
“All right then. I was going to ask Chris to bring along a couple of bottles of wine from that wine cellar of yours, but then I realized Kip and Sandy met in AA, so probably no wine, right?”
“Right,” Ali agreed. “And Chris is already on his way. He’s off picking up Athena right now.”
“Fair enough,” Edie said. “See you in a little. I’ve fallen a bit behind. I know I told you we’d be eating at six, but it’ll probably be closer to six-thirty.”
Wanting to wash the ugly images of Crystal’s victimization from her mind, Ali stood under the shower and let the water fall full on her face.
And what if that turned out to be the case? Hadn’t Ali just counseled Crystal to go back home to Las Vegas and make a sincere effort to get along with her elders, Gary Whitman included? If Gary was at fault, it was likely Ali had made things worse instead of better. And what would Dave do once he learned about the offending Web site- however Ali managed to tell him about that? Was there something else she could do instead?
What if she called the cops in Las Vegas? What would they do? How would they proceed? Or would they? Ali’s last interaction with cops certainly hadn’t gone very well. What made her think officers in Vegas would be any different? And what would happen to Dave’s kids, all three of them, if their new family situation was blown apart? But then again, if what Ali suspected was going on, hadn’t that already happened?
Still awash in indecision, Ali stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel.
CHAPTER 17
Larry Marsh was on the phone to the Marin County Sheriff’s Department. Yes, someone would get back to him on the William Cowan Ashcroft situation, but it wasn’t likely to be that day, especially since it would take time to locate the record as well as any remaining evidence of that fatal car wreck. Would tomorrow work, or maybe the next day?
In the background, Hank’s phone rang and soon he was busily taking notes.
“What do you have?” Larry asked.
“My mole in the VA came through with two possibilities,” Hank answered. “Alan Dale Reed of Birmingham, Alabama, got his Silver Star in Vietnam, 1965. The problem is, he died in 2004. Arthur Reed is from Red Bluff, California. His Silver Star came from Korea, circa 1953. As far as I can tell, he’s still alive and kicking and driving.”
“Address?” Larry asked.
“And phone number.”
“Let’s give him a call.”
They used a phone in the conference room and put it on speaker. The way investigations went, Larry expected that they’d run into a nonworking number or that Arthur Reed would also be deceased or unavailable. But he wasn’t. The woman who answered the phone said only, “Just a minute.” Then, “Dad, it’s for you.”
“This is Detective Larry Marsh with the Phoenix Police Department.”
“Wait a minute. You’re not supposed to be calling me. I already told you to take me off your goddamned call list. These police guild and fire department calls are just a ripoff. I’ve got half a mind to report you to the attorney general’s office.”
“Wait, wait, Mr. Reed,” Hank said. “This isn’t a solicitation call.”
“What is it then?”
“It’s a homicide investigation,” Marsh said. “Detective Mendoza and I are homicide detectives with the Phoenix Police Department.”
“You think I killed somebody in Arizona? I’ve never even been to Arizona. You’ve got the wrong guy. I’m hanging up now.”
“No, wait,” Marsh said. “Please, Mr. Reed. Don’t hang up. We’re just looking for information. Maybe you can help us.”
“What kind of information? If this is some kind of trick…”
“It’s no trick. As I said, we’re investigating a homicide…”
“Who died?”
“William Cowan Ashcroft the third.”
“Never heard of him. Wouldn’t know him from a hole in the ground. What does this have to do with me?”
“It’s about your Silver Star, the one you were awarded for service in Korea?”
“What about it?”
“A Silver Star with your name engraved on it was found in the floorwell of Mr. Ashcroft’s vehicle after he was killed. We were wondering if you had any idea how it might have gotten there.”
In the background they could hear a woman’s voice. “Who is it, Dad? What do they want?”
“It’s the cops,” he said. “Somebody else calling about my medals.”
“I thought you got rid of those,” the woman said.
“I did,” he said impatiently. “I told you I would and I did.”
“Somebody else called you about your medal?” Hank asked.
“Yeah, some guy who’s writing a book on Silver Star recipients,” Reed said. “I have no idea how he got my name. Julie here found out I’d talked to him and pitched a fit.”
“Julie?”
“My daughter. If you must know, she and my granddaughter both are certified peace activists. They’re not just against this war; they’re against all wars. So when I had to move in with her a couple of years ago, she wanted me to get rid of all that wartime crap-didn’t want it in her house. Julie’s mother and I had saved them through the years-my medals, uniforms, and all that other stuff-kept them up in the attic. Once a Marine always a Marine, but Connie was gone by then, and since I was moving into Julie’s house, I had to respect her wishes. I got rid of everything.”
“What did you do with them?”
“Took ’em to Goodwill mostly.”
“Even the medals?”
“Except for the Silver Star.”
“What did you do with that one?”
“I gave it away.”
“Who did you give it to?” Larry asked.
“What do you know about the Korean War?” Arthur Reed asked.
“Not much. It was a little before my time.”
“Ever get to Red Bluff? If you do, come by for a beer. If Julie’s not home, I’ll tell you all about it.”
“The Silver Star…” Larry prompted.
“Right. You probably never heard of Hagaru?”
“No.”
“What about Koto-ri?”
“Never heard of that, either.”
