I felt my eyes twitch. The idea that Kate had had that much heroin didn’t seem real to me.
Ken turned and stared out the massive window. The view looked down over the west end of Mount Soledad and La Jolla Shores, barely glimpsing the far edge of the Pacific.
He shook his head. “I couldn’t let her go to jail.”
“What was she doing with the drugs, Ken?” I asked. “Did she have a problem?”
He laughed bitterly. “Oh, she had a problem. From what I learned, she experimented with it during college. Battled with it from then on.”
“She couldn’t shake it?” I asked, trying to picture a strung-out Kate in an Ivy League dorm room.
“She tried rehab several times, but never lasted more than six months clean.” He looked at me. “It was killing her. Until about a year ago.”
I didn’t understand. “What happened?”
He smiled sadly. “She kicked it, on her own. No help from me or doctors or counselors. Just dug in her heels and stopped.”
That sounded more like the Kate I had known.
“Then what was she doing with heroin in her car?” I asked.
His mouth puckered for a moment, like he was trying to get down some awful food. “It wasn’t hers.”
I looked at him, doubtful. “From what you’ve just told me, that’s pretty hard to buy into.”
“I know. But it wasn’t hers, Noah,” he said, his voice tight.
“Whose was it, then?”
He turned to the window again, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “It was Randall’s.”
I leaned back into the sofa and listened.
“Randall had a…problem, as well,” Ken said. “When they first got married, they were perfect for one another. Just a couple of yuppie junkies with too much money.”
He licked his lips, as if he were trying to get the taste out of his mouth. “I’d really given up. Figured she was going to die, thought we’d get a call in the middle of the night and have to pull her out of the gutter. I tried to do what I could. But it didn’t matter.” He paused. “When Kate cleaned up, I assumed Randall had, too.”
“But he hadn’t,” I said.
“I’m not exactly sure,” he said. “Kate said he had, but I think he may have been dabbling, if that’s the appropriate term.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Just his appearance when we went to visit. One day he looked fine, next he looked like crap. I learned to recognize the signs after dealing with Kate.”
He rubbed his hand over his face. When I was in high school, I had alternately wanted to impress Ken Crier and kick his ass. Now I just felt sorry for him.
“Anyway, it was his car Kate was driving. She told me she didn’t know it was there and she was just as surprised to see it under the seat as the cop was. We were at a point where I knew she wasn’t lying to me anymore.”
“But the police didn’t believe her?”
His eyes fired up again. “She covered for his ass, Noah. She took the blame.”
“Why?”
“Because he was on probation,” he said, almost spitting it out. “
I tried to take it all in. Kate and Randall were both users. Maybe dealers. The good doctor had gotten caught and escaped with a tiny slap-as long as it didn’t happen again.
“So she covered for him,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“And he let her.”
An ugly smile twisted his mouth. “And he let her.”
Cheating on Kate and then getting her into this crap. I now had two reasons to beat the crap out of Randall Tower.
“I set it up,” Ken said. “I got the San Diego DA to arrange with the DA in Marin. They brought her down. She had to make four buys.”
“They miked her and everything?”
“The whole deal.”
I could feel the anger building in my stomach. She’d finally gotten her life together and ended up dying, trying to cover her husband’s ass.
“And Randall let her,” I said again.
Ken Crier nodded slowly, not saying anything, a mixture of anger, guilt, and sadness playing across his features.
We sat there for a moment, him staring out at nothing, me trying to remember the girl I’d loved in high school.
“What was going to happen after the last buy?” I asked.
He swung his gaze back to mine, his eyes red. “They were going to take the recorded conversations and the drugs she bought and hopefully get Costilla. They thought this was their chance to take him down.”
“Was she going to testify?”
“Not in court. It was going to be done through paperwork and by video. She wouldn’t have to enter the courtroom. Once they had what they needed, she was done and clear. She told me she was going to leave Randall, to start all over…” His voice trailed off.
“What?” I asked.
His eyes were someplace else, maybe back to that last conversation with his youngest daughter. “I thought maybe she was going to try to find you, Noah.”
28
I walked out of the Criers’ home before it swallowed me whole.
I headed home, stopping at the deli on Law to buy a twelve pack of Red Trolley. I wasn’t sure that twelve was all I’d need to wash the day out of my head, but I figured it would be a good start.
When I walked into my place, the first thing I noticed was that the screen door to the patio stood halfway open.
Silently, I set the beer on the floor and pulled my gun from the small of my back. I checked the bedroom and bathroom and found nothing. I moved slowly toward the patio and peeked out the door.
Emily was sitting on one of the lounge chairs.
“Emily?”
She turned in my direction and stood up. “Noah.” She looked at the gun. “Did I do something wrong?”
I ducked back in the house, replaced the safety, and set it on the dining room table, then joined Emily outside.
“No, sorry,” I said. “Just being careful.”
She studied me for a second. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
A braid of long blond hair hung over her shoulder. She wore a red T-shirt and white walking shorts. White leather sandals matched the shorts. She stuck her hands in her pockets. “Should I not be here?”
A good question that I was having trouble finding the answer to.
“It’s fine,” I told her. I pointed to the chair she’d been sitting in when I’d arrived. “I’m sorry. Sit.”
She did, not taking her eyes off me.
“Carter’s in the hospital,” I said, sitting in the chair next to her.
Her mouth tightened. “What happened?”
