CHAPTER 12

The best thing about the Lois Maderas Memorial Park: the hills and windbreak of trees at the top of one of them. The shade here was dark, and he was far enough away that even a sharp-eyed cop wouldn’t see him. He lay on his stomach on the grass, watching.

He didn’t come to watch the mourners.

He came because he knew the cops would be there, and he wanted to see who they were.

They were easy to spot. Dressed professionally, but casual. Even if they didn’t dress like cops, he would know them anywhere.

Because of what they were looking at.

They weren’t watching the coffin as it was lowered into the earth.

They were looking out. Out at the people surrounding the grave. Their faces impassive behind dark glasses. Quiet and contained, they kept their eyes on the mourners, and now and then they scanned the surrounding hills.

He didn’t use his binocs because he didn’t want to catch a reflection.

The woman in particular interested him. She wore a navy jacket over a pale blouse and chino-type slacks. He could see the rectangle under her jacket on her left hip. The woman was a cop all the way. Her dark blonde hair pulled into a neat ponytail. The dark glasses. The calm around her.

And the other guy—the spic.

He was a little more restless. Full of energy. Looking for trouble. When he looked toward the hills, it was almost with X-ray vision.

The watcher knew he couldn’t be seen, but still…

He knew that killers often showed up at funerals to gloat. Or out of nervousness, because they couldn’t stay away. Maybe they were worried about some loose end, maybe they had a compulsion.

But he came to watch the cops watching for him.

CHAPTER 13

This time there were no girls or horses in the riding ring.

Tess stood back while Danny knocked.

It took a while, but Jaimie finally came to the door. She wore a similar outfit to the one she’d worn last time—except for the cowboy boots, which were beat up, but expensive.

“I’m busy today,” Jaimie said, her voice abrupt.

“Just a couple more questions,” Danny said.

“Who are you?”

Tess stepped up close to Jaimie. “This is Danny Rojas, my partner.”

“Your ‘partner?’ With the sheriff’s office? Or are you lovers?”

Danny gave her his best sexy grin. “We’re negotiating on that.”

Tess thought about stomping on his foot, but the moment passed.

Jaimie came out on the porch and closed the door behind her. “All right, you can ask your damn questions! I just hope it won’t take long.”

She seemed completely different from the way she’d been before. Last time she’d at least given the appearance of being forthcoming, and volunteered information. This time she folded her arms and stood on the porch. “What do you want to know?”

“First, I need the names of the SABEL members,” Tess said.

“Fine.” She walked inside and closed the door.

“You have a way with people,” Danny observed.

They waited. The smell of alfalfa, horse urine, and manure drifted up to them.

A couple of minutes later, Jaimie Wolfe returned with a sheet of paper. “Names and phone numbers,” she said, her voice brisk.

Only eight people on the list. Apparently eradicating buffelgrass wasn’t a popular pastime around here.

“Do you have any theories as to why George Hanley moved down here?”

Jaimie shrugged. “He said, to be with his daughter.”

“He never mentioned an additional reason to you?”

“I don’t think so. Look, he wasn’t crazy about his daughter, but she was related to him. There are problems in any relationship. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got things to do.”

Tess said, “What did he tell you about leading the tours at Credo?”

“I think he said his grandmother grew up there, when it was a real town.”

“Have you ever been there?”

“Nope. I’ve trailered my horses out into the Atascosas and rode some trails, but that was a long time ago. Back before things got really bad. Now I wouldn’t go there if you paid me.”

Tess watched the dogs, who were hanging out in the front yard with a watchful eye on Jaimie. One of them was an Australian shepherd.

“Did George bring his dog over here?”

“All the time. Is she okay?”

“She was taken to Animal Control.”

Her mouth flatlined. “That figures! It was that stupid bitch, Pat, am I right? Anyone who’d do that to a dog after she lost her human, that’s just plain evil! “ She crossed her arms and glared at Tess. “I have half a mind to go get her.”

“She’s already been adopted.”

“Well, that’s good. At least she’s got a home.” Jaimie looked out at her own pack. “Adele was always welcome. She loved coming here.” She nodded to the Australian shepherd. “Bandit and Adele got along great, but that’s true of most dogs. Pat should have called me and I would have come and got her. She would have been a happy dog.”

Tess asked her again (how many ways could you answer the question? She was about to find out) regarding George Hanley’s relationship with the other people on the board of SABEL.

“He got on great with everybody. People loved him.”

“Anyone who didn’t?” Danny asked.

“Nope. He was just that kind of guy.”

“Was there anyone he was really close to?”

“Not really.”

“No one he might’ve rubbed the wrong way?”

“Nope.”

Danny said, “Anyone else besides SABEL members who had any interaction with George that you’ve noticed?”

“Nope.” She paused. “Except for my brother Michael—he was his financial advisor. You might want to talk to him.” She started down the steps of the house. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got six stalls to clean.”

Tess remembered the notation on George Hanley’s calendar. “What’s his name?”

Jaimie Wolfe stopped and turned to look at them. “Michael. Michael DeKoven. He lives in Tucson—he’s in the book.”

“So what do you think?” Tess asked Danny as they drove out.

He buzzed down the passenger window of the Tahoe and rested his elbow on the door and watched the scenery fly by. “She’s smooth.”

“Lying?”

He shrugged. “Could be. But there’s nothing I can point to.”

“So, your first impression.”

Danny turned to look at her, the sun bouncing off his aviator shades. “I don’t think she works and plays well

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