“That’s too bad. I know who did it.”
He leaned forward, hands clasped together, curious.
“You do?”
“That’s right. My brother-in-law. Alby Riker.”
A Mack truck hitting him right then wouldn’t have had the impact her words did. He was surprised by her confession. It wasn’t just that she was telling him who was responsible, it was that she was throwing her kin under the bus.
“Are you sure about that?”
Martha shifted in her seat. “Positive.”
“And what led you to believe that?”
“My boy told me. Jessie.”
“Jessie told you. And how did he know?”
“Alby told him.” She reached into her bag and took out a cigarette, and lit it. He would have stopped her, but he didn’t need the headache. “So, what do you plan to do to remedy this situation?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to remedy this situation?”
“That’s what I said. You are the law, are you not?”
“That I am.” He got up once the water boiled and poured his coffee. With his back turned, he continued. “Not to pry, Martha, but I can’t help feeling this is very peculiar. I mean, he’s your brother-in-law. Bruce’s brother. Your children’s uncle.”
“And? A crime is a crime, is it not?”
“It is.”
“And I would be doing this community an injustice if I didn’t report a crime, correct?”
“You are correct.” He turned, stirring his hot brew, eyeing her, trying to figure out where she was going with this. No one in their right mind, especially not a Riker, would do this. “Let me ask you something. Has Alby crossed you?”
“No.”
“Then why would you tell me this? I mean, forgive me for stating the obvious, but there is one thing that I know is as true about the Rikers as it is about the Stricklands. Blood is thicker than water. You’d go to your grave protecting your own. So why?”
She smiled. “Who’s to say I’m not protecting my own?”
Cathy, his assistant, walked by the room and glanced in. He looked up then back at Martha. Dan took a sip of his drink, almost burning his tongue. “This is about Miriam, isn’t it?”
She leaned forward. “This is about doing what is right. I would like to think that if Hank were in my shoes, he would do the same. If three of my boys were murdered by his brother, I’d like to think he would come forward.”
“Right.” His fingers drummed the side of the mug before he took a seat. “Of course, I would need proof. Something substantial. Your word means a lot, but it wouldn’t hold up in court.”
She nodded. “Of course not.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small voice recorder, and hit play. She set it in front of him, and a crackling voice came over the speaker. It was Alby confessing to having hung them. His reason — to send a message to the Stricklands. Martha stopped the recorder. “Will that suffice?”
Dan nodded and reached into his drawer for an evidence bag. He took it and placed it inside and told her he would need to hang on to it but would return it. “Did Jessie give you this?”
“It was given to me by a source that wishes to remain anonymous. That won’t cause any trouble, will it?”
Dan rubbed his chin. “No.”
“I thought so.”
Martha got up and closed her bag. She blew smoke out the corner of her mouth and dropped her cigarette into an ashtray on his desk. “I imagine you will need to let Hank know immediately. I would want to know. Can I be assured you will do so?”
“You have my word.”
She turned and headed for the door, not stopping to ask what would happen to Alby. It was as if she didn’t care. As if he was nothing but a liability, a scapegoat, someone to take the fall. Was he a sacrificial lamb being served up to circumvent the rules of the mountain, the ones that had governed them for so long? He wouldn’t know until he spoke with him. That would be interesting.
“Martha. Before you go,” Dan said. She turned. “I’m sorry to hear about Miriam. How is she?”
“Injured but alive. She’ll come through this stronger for it,” she said. “We all will.”
She walked out.
He got a sense that this was a power move. She was shifting her chess piece into place to see how Hank would respond. Seemingly delivering one of her pawns into place to see what move would come next.
And yet it felt like she was already three moves ahead, knowing exactly how this would play out. She had to be. Handing over a Riker was unheard of, a first of its kind.
Dan stared down at the recorder. He rewound it to the start and played it again, then again, trying to discern what the noise was he was hearing in the background. He figured Alby wouldn’t tell him, especially if the recording had been done without his knowledge.
He drummed his fingers against the desk.
He’d been wondering how to deal with the Strickland murders. He wasn’t a fool. He knew the attack on Miriam had come from his family, though whether they would admit to it like Martha had was to be seen. Had she done this to protect her kids? It certainly would appease Hank, though he knew he would have to take Alby into custody before Hank found out otherwise they would take justice into their own hands. How justice would be served under these circumstances was what concerned him. Whether Alby’s imprisonment would be accepted by Hank was another thing entirely.
One thing was sure he could benefit from this. It certainly would speak volumes for his ability to maintain law and order during a breakdown.
He got up and went to the door. “Cathy, you still there?”
“What is it?”
“Is Deputy Johnson here?”
“Hold a moment.”
A few minutes passed, and Johnson stepped into the corridor. “You called?”
“Yeah, get SWAT together.”
THIRTEEN Colby
Merced County
At night the Spanish mission-style hotel with a nine-story bell
