“The music’s fine. Just lower the volume a few squillion decibels.”
“Seriously. Who do you like?”
“You’ll mock me.”
“I won’t. Well, unless you say Abba. Come on. Choose one of your CD’s. You do have CD’s?”
“Of course I have CD’s.” Two of Abba. I didn’t fess up.
“Choose one.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
Running a finger along my music shelf, I made a selection and handed it to Ryan.
“Yes! A Canadian.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Disapproving look. “Neil Young makes up for the national flaw of not having Dove bars.”
Ryan slipped the disc into the PC.
First acoustic guitar, then the familiar nasal tenor issued forth.
Synapse trip down memory lane. Pete in his marine dress whites. In jeans playing backyard croquet with Katy. In plaid flannel PJ bottoms watching TV.
This had been Pete’s favorite CD.
I studied the album’s cover art. A scarecrow, backlit by an orange and red sunset.
Or was it a native dancer in a fringed coat?
A witch?
And there it was again. The subliminal sneeze that wouldn’t break.
Witch? Pete?
I flipped the case and looked at the title.
The sneeze geysered into my forebrain.
“Holy hell.”
Ryan’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Something’s been bugging me about Evans and I just got it.”
As before, I grabbed the phone and dialed.
As before, Slidell answered.
I gestured at the computer. Ryan lowered the volume.
“Klapec lives in Onslow County, right? In Half Moon?”
“So?”
“I just remembered. I can’t believe I missed it until now. I’ve been to Onslow County, know the town. I just didn’t remember I remembered it.”
I was so psyched I was babbling.
Ryan pantomimed inhalation.
I took a breath. Started over.
“When you questioned Evans at Rinaldi’s funeral, he referred to Jimmy Klapec as a half-moon hick. I though it was just a derogatory expression, but my subconscious pricked up at the reference.”
“Your what?”
“Evans meant it literally. Half Moon. It’s a town on Highway Two fifty-eight, north of Camp Lejeune and Jacksonville. The Klapecs live there. If Evans never met Jimmy Klapec, how could he know the kid’s hometown?”
“That lying piece of crap.”
For several seconds I listened to Slidell’s breathing. Then he made a clicking sound with his tongue.
“Still won’t get me a warrant.”
“How do you know?”
“Already tried. Got shut down. DA says it’s all circumstantial. Besides, Evans alibis out. Didn’t say so, but there’s also the fact that the guy works for a public figure. DA don’t want to poke that hornets’ nest without a smoking gun.”
Slidell was right. The crack about Half Moon. The resemblance to Rick Nielsen. Lingo’s number in Rinaldi’s notes. It was all speculative. So far we’d found nothing to show either motive or opportunity. And Evans had witnesses putting him elsewhere on both the September and October dates in question.
I thought a moment.
“Have you checked into Evans’s vehicle?”
“I’ve got a call in on that. By the way, Klapec’s been charged. Unit found the gun. Motel manager confirms Klapec’s story, and a security camera shows him checking in at twelve twenty-seven this morning. Plus the confession’s clean. Looks like the pathetic bastard’s telling the truth.”
Ryan was still surfing the Cheap Trick Web site, the volume turned low. Seeing my face, he reached out for one of my hands.
“Feeling jammed up?”
“I keep seeing Klapec in that interrogation room. First, he lost his son. Now he’s probably murdered an innocent man.”
“You really think Lingo’s aide is your boy?”
Raising frustrated palms, I summarized the circumstantial evidence Slidell and I had just discussed. “And Evans has an alibi.”
“Let’s crack it.”
“According to the man who found it, Klapec’s body was dumped the morning of October ninth. Evans was in Greensboro.”
“Let’s let that go for now. You said Klapec could have been killed earlier, then placed in a freezer.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.” I was saying that a lot lately. “But Klapec was last seen alive on September twenty-ninth.”
“By whom?”
“Vince Gunther.”
“A fellow chicken hawk.”
I nodded.
“Is Gunther credible?”
“Apparently Rinaldi thought so. His notes suggest he was willing to pay the kid five hundred dollars for information on Klapec’s killer.”
“What was Slidell’s take?”
“We never questioned Gunther directly.”
“That’s right. Gunther’s in the wind. Still no word on his whereabouts?”
I shook my head. “But we did interview April Pinder, Gunther’s former girlfriend. Her story confirmed what we suspected about Klapec and this Rick Nielsen/Nelson character arguing, then Klapec disappearing. It supported an LSA for Klapec on September twenty-ninth.”
“How about Pinder? She reliable?”
I waggled splayed fingers. Maybe yes, maybe no.
“Could she be covering for Gunther?”
“Doubtful. She’s pissed as hell. After she paid his bail, Gunther dumped her.”
I saw thought working in Ryan’s eyes.
“Exactly how did Pinder’s story corroborate Gunther’s?”
I relayed what Pinder had said about Gunther watching TV the night he got out of jail. About Gunther telling her he saw Klapec and Rick Nelson/Nielsen arguing that day.
“And Evans was out of town at that time, too?”
“On a campaign swing across the state.”
“He’s sure about his dates?”
“Very.”
