6
Luke’s fourth day as interim sheriff started out much the same as the previous three. He hadn’t slept well in his jailhouse-style digs at the firehouse. A couple of wet-behind-the-ears Explorer Scouts made runny eggs, muddy coffee, and a lot of superfluous noise.
It was clear that the firefighters-in-training didn’t mean any harm, but if Luke heard any more questions about Vegas or jokes about showgirls, he’d lose it. Had he ever been that young and stupid? He couldn’t remember.
By the time Luke got to the station Deputy Snell was already there, sitting at his desk reading the newspaper. Even more surprising, Luke smelled fresh coffee, a better blend than the stuff he’d choked down earlier.
Luke was instantly wary. “Who made this?” he asked, gesturing with the carafe.
Garrett didn’t look up. “Me.”
Figuring it couldn’t be any worse than the muck at the firehouse, Luke poured himself a cup and retreated to the safety of his office. He and Garrett hadn’t engaged in a lot of “getting to know you” chitchat, and that suited Luke just fine.
He had a lot of work to do, none of which he trusted Garrett with. Picturing the look of devastation on Liliana Montes’s face when he broke the bad news, Luke picked up the phone to call the medical examiner. Accident or not, he had a mystery to solve. Moving a dead body wasn’t as stiff a crime as murder, but it was damned peculiar.
Dr. Hoyt’s receptionist put him right through. “Sheriff Meza?” he inquired, his accent vaguely… Transylvanian. “What can I do for you?”
Luke flipped through the autopsy photos he’d taken himself and printed out last night. “I have a few questions if you have the time.”
“Of course.”
“As far as the marks on her back… well, I’m no expert, but a lot of people out here drive trucks.” This morning, he’d glanced into the corrugated bed of his pickup and a lightbulb had gone off inside his head. “Could she have been lying on a bed liner?”
“I’m almost certain she was,” Dr. Hoyt admitted. “But I’ve only seen marks like that once before, so I can’t be positive.”
“How long would it take to make them? I’ve got witnesses who saw her alive at midnight.” He consulted a copy of the preliminary report. “You’ve estimated time of death between 1:00 and 2:00 A.M.”
“Lividity sets in quickly. She could have visible markings after an hour or less of resting in one place.”
“Is there a medical explanation for the lack of blood? There was a small amount on her clothing, but none at the scene.”
“Yes. In this case, death was instantaneous. When the heart stops beating, blood stops pumping. She probably never knew what hit her.”
Luke leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, as if more answers might be written there. “Is there any possibility she was killed by something other than a lion?”
“No,” Dr. Hoyt said. “The amount of pressure needed to sever a spinal cord is immense. The size of the bite, depth of penetration, the space between punctures…” He trailed off. “Even with a piece of specialized equipment, these things cannot be duplicated.”
“Haven’t you seen
Dr. Hoyt’s laugh reminded Luke of the Count from
“She was moved,” Luke said quietly, any trace of humor gone.
“Indeed she was, Sheriff. But unless you can find a mountain lion with criminal intent, she was not murdered.”
“What about sexual assault? The mortician said you took DNA samples.”
“Only as a matter of procedure. I found no evidence of rape, although she’d had intercourse, possibly with more than one partner, within twenty-four hours of the attack. The swabs from the wounds on the neck will be analyzed and compared with the sample from the lion at UC Davis to make a positive ID. The others will be filed.”
Luke thanked him for his time and hung up, unable to shake the feeling that all was not what it seemed.
Deciding it was time for another hunting expedition, he pushed away from his desk. Like a lion stalking prey, he strode out of his office and zeroed in on Garrett. If he wasn’t mistaken, his deputy had spiffed up his work area and his appearance. Other than a few folded sections of the Sunday paper, the surface of his desk was clear. His uniform was neatly pressed and Luke could count the comb lines in his slick black hair.
Garrett Snell was not a handsome man, with his considerable bulk and gloomy, deep-set eyes, but he had a distinct presence. He reminded Luke of a carnival ringmaster. There was a flair about him, as if he were performing, rather than being.
It also occurred to Luke that Deputy Snell wanted to make a better impression today than he had before, and Luke thought he knew why.
He pulled up a chair in front of Garrett’s desk and stretched out his legs. When the deputy merely shot him a questioning glance over the top of his newspaper, Luke made a show of studying his fingernails. Two could play at this game. “How long have you been involved with Yesenia?”
Garrett’s reaction was quite genuine, for once. His forehead turned red and his nostrils flared. “Who says I was?”
Luke manufactured a bored look. “Come on, Garrett. You pretended not to know her.”
“I didn’t get close enough to make a positive ID.”
He made an impatient gesture, waving away Garrett’s denials. “I don’t care what you do off duty. I’m only asking because the medical examiner took DNA samples and I don’t want any surprises.”
Garrett blinked several times, as if he were calculating the probability of getting caught. “My wife just had a baby,” he muttered, unable to meet Luke’s eyes. “I went with Yesenia to take the edge off.”
“When?”
“A week ago.”
Luke nodded pleasantly, stifling the urge to sink his fist into Garrett’s doughy face. Funny, his deputy had been less repulsive as a liar than he was as a cheat, and Luke regretted having delved into his slimy personal business. “Have you ever investigated a homicide?”
Garrett’s mouth fell open. “No.”
“Me, either.”
“You don’t think-”
“Nah. But why would anyone move her body?”
Something sparked in Garrett’s sunken eyes, a hint of intelligence Luke hadn’t realized was there. He decided to overlook the fact that his deputy was a disloyal creep. Devious minds were often great investigative tools.
“They’re building a new casino on Los Coyotes,” Garrett said.
“The Indian reservation?”
“Yeah. No offense, but those guys don’t like a lot of interference from the outside. And a body found on federal land always brings in the FBI.”
Luke squinted at Garrett, wondering if he should be offended. Shay Phillips had mentioned kids and illegal aliens. Now Indians were being thrown under the bus. “What does the casino have to do with anything?”
Garrett’s face became animated. “Well, there’s been this big controversy over environmental regulations. Something about wildlife and seasonal pools. The builders are supposed to be following codes, but if they don’t, the tribal leaders have the funds to pay off inspectors. And plenty of reasons not to want the feds poking around on the reservation, looking into their business practices.”
Ah, irony. His people had once been known for championing environmental causes. Luke couldn’t fault anyone for making a buck, and in California, Indian Gaming was making a lot of them, but he was so weary of cash, corruption, and casinos.
