hold a meeting, and they decide these two have to be punished for what they’ve done. Not for killing Hannah, mind you, but for taking this contract without the knowledge or consent of the hierarchy.”
“So what’s the punishment?”
“Death. They’re both dead. Shot in the head, dismembered, and run through a wood chipper into a pigpen on a farm in Unicoi County.”
“You know who they are?”
“I know who they were. Not that it does me any damned good.”
“So why the secrecy with Hannah’s body?”
“The contract came from a Mexican who is a known associate of your ol’ buddy Rafael Ramirez. The undercover says the contract didn’t come from Ramirez’s guy; it came through him. The undercover has worked his way up to treasurer of the gang. They trust him. He was there when these two guys were interrogated. The president of the club wanted to know what else they’d been doing on the side before he killed them, so he tortured them awhile. Turns out they weren’t really doing anything else on the side, but the guy who actually met with the Mexican and took the contract said whoever was putting up the money was someone important.”
“Someone important? He didn’t say who?”
“The Mexican didn’t tell him.”
“Any ideas?”
“A couple, but first I need to ask you a question. You remember when I asked you whether Hannah had said anything about being pregnant? You told me she was a virgin. How would you know a thing like that?”
I immediately think again about the night at the bar.
“I probably should have told you this before, but maybe four or five weeks before she disappeared, I went to a little birthday party for Tanner Jarrett up at Rowdy’s. Mooney kept buying drinks for Hannah, and before we knew it, she was plastered. Then out of nowhere she blurted out that she was a virgin.”
“Who was there?” Bates says.
“Caroline and I, Tanner, Mooney, Rita and the guy she’s dating, a few others.”
“Who took her home?”
“Tanner.”
“Well, she wasn’t no virgin. My forensics boys dug up one of those early-pregnancy tests in a trash barrel outside her house. The lab guys were able to get prints, skin cells, and some urine off the tube. The DNA matched Hannah, and the test was positive. She was pregnant.”
“Okay,” I say. “So she was pregnant. What does that have to do with a contract killing?”
“The Mexican who paid this gangbanger said Hannah was pregnant and was blackmailing someone important. So before I release any news about finding her, there are a couple of things I want to do. My pathologist buddy says he thinks he can extract DNA from the embryo. We need to do whatever we can to find out who the daddy is. That should go a long ways toward telling who the killer might be. The other thing we need to do is go find Mr. Ramirez and try to get some answers out of him.”
“Ramirez is gone, Leon. You’re not going to find him. And even if you do, you’re not going to get anything out of him. You don’t have any leverage.”
“I said we. We’re going to find him. I’ve been talking to Rider some. He’ll help me. He hates Ramirez with a passion.”
“Anything I can do?”
“As a matter of fact there is, but I want you to take your time and do it right. No screwups. If this turns out the way I think it’s going to, there are going to be some big changes around here. Big changes, and I want you right in the middle of it.”
“I assume you have a suspect.”
“Two of ’em, brother. Two of ’em.”
42
A little while later, after Bates has gone, I look through my cell phone for Mike Norcross’s number. He answers after the second ring.
“My ID tells me a former prosecutor is calling,” Norcross says.
“How are you?”
“Fighting for truth, justice, and the American way. You?”
“Can’t complain. Listen, first off, I want to tell you I’m sorry you had to witness the little meltdown in Mooney’s office.”
“Sorry? Are you kidding? That was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen in my life. You’ve got some set of balls on you, Counselor.”
“I’ve heard that before, and every time I hear it, it’s because I’ve done something stupid.”
“Well, between you, me, and the fly on the wall, I thought what you did was right. No way we could have made a case on what we had. Harmon was just trying to shake things up.”
“Harmon? You mean it wasn’t Mooney’s idea?”
“It was Harmon’s. He strong-armed Anita and me into doing it. He’s getting a lot of pressure from Nashville on this case.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. Listen, I need to talk to Anita. She won’t pick up when I call. I’ve left her a few messages, but she hasn’t returned the calls.”
“I know,” Norcross says. “She’s a little freaked out by what happened with you. I think she wishes she’d told Harmon the same thing you told Mooney.”
“Are you with her? You guys working tonight?”
“Nah, we knocked off about an hour ago. Not much going on, to tell you the truth.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“She isn’t exactly a party girl. My guess is she’s at her place.”
“Mind telling me where that might be?”
“You’re going to show up unannounced?”
“Maybe. I have something on my mind that’s been bothering me. I want to talk to her.”
Norcross is silent for a few seconds.
“Sure, why not? Just don’t tell her where you got the address, okay?”
“I won’t, as long as you don’t call her and tell her I’m coming.”
“Deal,” Norcross says, and he gives me Anita’s address.
I leave Caroline a note and get in my truck. The address Norcross has given me is a new condominium complex called Pointe 24, across the Bristol Highway from Winged Deer Park. The buildings sit high on a ridge above Boone Lake, just a few miles from my place. I pull in and find her condo without any problem. She answers the door a few seconds after I ring the bell.
“Sorry to show up out of the blue like this, but I’d like to talk to you,” I say.
She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a frayed blue hoodie with “Memphis State” written across the front. The light from the lamppost outside her door catches her green eyes, and they sparkle. I’m worried she’ll shut the door in my face, but she smiles.
“Come in.”
I follow her through a foyer highlighted by a chandelier and immediately notice the smell of incense-jasmine, maybe. There’s a stairwell on the left and a kitchen with an island and stainless-steel appliances to the right. She leads me into a den dominated by a bookshelf that covers half the wall to my right. It goes from floor to ceiling and is full. The other half of the wall is covered by an upright piano. The tastefully decorated room is warmly lit by a lamp in the corner. Classical music is playing softly. There are framed photographs on a couple of small tables and more on the walls. I notice there is no television.
“Sit, please,” Anita says, motioning to a couch.
“Have you read all of these books?”
