Lorber looked at White and Wethering, making sure they were on the same page with the timeline of events.
“She specifically asks Hammes, ‘Did you do it?’ And he responds, ‘Do what?’ She responds, ‘Did you kill Chris?’” Lorber flipped the page. “He responds, ‘Fuck no.’ And then they don’t talk anymore.”
The room went silent.
“Just to state the obvious here,” Rachette said, “that does not sound like they’re in collaboration on Chris Oakley’s murder.”
“He could be lying about doing it,” Yates said. “It’s not exactly something you’d want to put in writing.”
“True.”
“Has Hammes really been working in Vail?” White asked. “Is there any truth to that?”
“I looked into his financials today.” Patterson opened the folder on her lap and picked out her own paperwork. “I couldn’t find any transactions for the last…well, he never uses a credit or debit card, let’s just say that. He only uses an ATM every once in a while, but he did once last Tuesday, when he withdrew one hundred dollars from an ATM at a Circle-Q convenience store in Eagle, Colorado.”
“Vail area,” Rachette said. “Wolf found a receipt in his dirty pants, too. From a liquor store in Eagle, dated last Thursday the 24th, the night before the murder.”
“That’s something,” Patterson said. “Otherwise, the ATM transaction is all I can find tying him to the Vail area. He holds a bank account at Peak National in downtown Dredge, but there are no recent debit transactions from that account or any other in his name, not since he got out of jail on February 18th. Again, the only thing I’m seeing are ATM withdrawals over the last few months.”
Patterson flipped the page. “I also spoke to his former employer up at the casino today, since you guys got sidetracked. Hammes used to wash dishes at the Motherlode Casino Restaurant and up and quit two weeks ago. He never told his parole officer so I found nothing there on where he went.”
“Who’s his parole officer?” Wolf asked.
“Shante Laroque,” White said.
“And why isn’t she here right now?”
“Besides the lack of room in your office?” White asked. “She had a hearing. Couldn’t make it.”
“What’s she saying about Hammes?” Wolf asked.
White looked to his assistant. Wethering cleared his throat. “She’s saying he never missed a meeting. Passed all his drug tests so far.” He shrugged. “He never told her about a Vail job.”
“Okay,” Wolf said. “What else?”
Patterson continued. “According to his former boss at the casino restaurant, word was travelling through the servers and staff that he was going to work construction up in Vail or the Vail area. That’s as specific as he could get.”
“Let’s talk motive for Hammes. What is it? He was screwing Mary and wanted her for himself?”
“More exact,” Wolf said, “Mary Dimitri was dating Chris Oakley and seeing Hammes on the side. According to Mary’s coworker at the cocktail lounge, she’d begun seeing him a month ago. Secretly, behind Oakley’s back.”
“And we have the text message from a guy named Spritz last Friday sent to Oakley,” Yates said, “telling Oakley the about his girlfriend’s infidelity.”
“That’s good motive for Oakley to kill Hammes,” Rachette said, “not really the other way around. Not good motive for Hammes to kill Oakley.”
“Let’s stop right there a second,” Patterson said. “How about this Spritz guy? Have you guys gone to the bar and grill where this guy works yet? Because the temp worker who dumped Oakley’s body onto the wash plant works there, too. Casey Lizotte. Spritz and Lizotte. Who are they?”
All eyes landed on Wolf, who shook his head.
“Not yet,” Rachette said. “We’ve been a bit busy.”
She made a note in her notebook. “Just asking. It’s called The Picker Bar and Grill. I’ll tack that onto our to-do list.”
“The Picker?” Rachette scoffed. “What’s that about? Oh wait, I get it now, like a big piece of gold you pick out of the ground. Not like a booger or anything.”
The room went silent.
“Sorry,” Rachette waved toward Yates. “Continue. You were talking about what happened? Hammes’s motive playing out or something?”
Yates cleared his throat. “I was saying Oakley got the text message about Hammes hooking up with his lady. Later that night Oakley was killed. The news of Hammes and Mary getting together behind Oakley’s back and Oakley’s death seems obviously connected. That seems to point to Hammes as our guy.”
“How’s Hammes doing, anyway?” White asked, looking at Wolf. “We gonna be able to talk to him? Or…” he finished his sentence with a slashing motion across his neck.
“He’s in surgery right now,” Wolf said. “We’ll know more later.”
“Let’s hope he lives,” White said.
“And talks,” Rachette said.
“And what about the dog?” Daphne asked. “Is he going to be okay?”
Wolf nodded. “He’s fine. Bullet grazed his hind leg. He’ll have a hefty limp, but he’ll be okay.”
Daphne deflated. “Good.”
“So what are we saying happened?” Rachette asked. “Mary Dimitri comes up to the mine that night. She gets into an argument with Oakley and then drives away. Lorber said she called Hammes that night at eleven-ish. Maybe after the argument at the mine she goes home and calls Hammes, sweet talks him for twenty minutes, tells him to go kill Chris.
“Hammes says, okay, anything for you, baby. He comes sneaking into the mine, breaks into Oakley’s trailer, takes the Glock with the silencer…” Rachette stopped. “Here’s a question—how does Hammes know where to find the silenced weapon?”
“Mary Dimitri knew,” Yates said. “She tells him where to get it. She knows the exact drawer from spending so much time with Oakley.”
They sat listening to the rumble of another thunder outside.
“Okay, fair enough,” Rachette said. “And then he…what? Goes home that night? His neighbor reported him showing up Tuesday night. Not Friday night. He never said anything about the weekend.”
“So he goes back up to Vail,” White said.
“So he comes down from Vail to do the deed,” Rachette said. “In the middle of the night, he drives two hours, gets there in the middle of the
