A tiny stab of anxiety flickered through my mind. Peters didn't sound quite his usual self. 'Maybe you'd better call in the bomb squad,' I quipped uneasily.
It was a joke, but Peters didn't laugh. 'It's not that kind of bomb,' he said. 'What I have in my hand is an official interdepartmental complaint, actually two-in-one. It's from both the Jackson County Sheriff's Department and from the Department of Public Safety in the city of Ashland, Oregon.'
'An official complaint? You're kidding! What does it say?'
'According to one Detective Gordon Fraymore, you are hereby requested to cease and desist from interfering with him and his counterpart at the Sheriff's Department in their common pursuit of their official duties in the investigation of a recent double homicide, blah, blah, blah. How does that grab you?'
'Why that ungrateful…'
'He goes on to say that you have been obstructing justice in that you have failed to promptly report meaningful information to him in connection with those same two above-named cases. Is that true?'
'Well…' I hedged.
'Tony says cut it out. He says you're on vacation, so act like it. All right?'
'All right,' I returned, taken aback and properly chastened.
'Good,' Peters said, sounding more himself. 'Now, with that out of the way, why don't you tell me what's really going on?'
I told him more or less the whole story while Oak Hill's breakfast went forward without me. It's fair to say Ron was astounded when he learned that the chief suspect's daughter was the 'ankle-biter' who had screamed in his ear at the beginning of our conversation.
'No wonder Detective Fraymore thinks you're interfering. I can see where he might pick up such a crazy, unreasonable idea.' Actually, so could I.
'Well,' Peters said finally, 'are you going to follow orders and stay out of it or not?'
'Most likely not,' I answered. Since I was talking to Ron Peters, I could just as well be honest. 'And neither will Ralph Ames,' I added. 'He's volunteered to be her defense attorney.'
'Great,' Peters said. 'The brass is going to love that.'
'I don't see what any of this has to do with them. After all, I am on vacation. Not only that, Ashland is a good eight hours away from the Public Safety Building.'
'You're forgetting the power of the press,' Ron said. 'The papers are full of it. ‘Prominent Seattlelite Murdered in Ashland.' Guy and Daphne Lewis are big news here in Seattle. The murder made the front page of this morning's Northwest section. Tony is serious when he says you're to butt out.'
I didn't like Tony Freeman or anyone else issuing orders to me while I was on vacation. My hackles stood on end. 'Freeman's got a hell of a lot of nerve,' I said, sounding surly even to me.
'He's going by what Gordon Fraymore said,' Peters reasoned.
'Oh, him. Fraymore's had it in for me from the moment I set foot in this town. I haven't done anything wrong, so far. For that matter, I'm beginning to wonder if Tanya Dunseth has, either. Gordon Fraymore thinks he's built himself an airtight case, and I think Fraymore's a jackass.'
'You always did keep your opinions to yourself,' Ron observed.
He may have been making fun of me, but I was thinking on my feet. Fraymore's letter, one way or another, had brought the situation in Ashland to the attention of Seattle P.D. Now, with Ron on the phone, I had a chance at some semi-official lines of inquiry-if I could manage to reel him in.
'I wonder…' I said tentatively.
'Wonder what?' Peters asked, going for the proffered bait like a half-starved fish, exactly as I knew he would.
'If someone else is using Tanya Dunseth as a fall guy.'
'Fall guy or fall woman?' Peters returned. He spent so long in Media Relations that politically correct language has become second nature.
'Are you saying she's being framed?'
'Possibly.'
'By Detective Fraymore?'
'Not deliberately. He's a jerk, but he's only doing his job. He wants to clear the case as soon as possible, and he has what seems on the face of it to be pretty conclusive evidence. But what if someone else is handing him that evidence, someone we don't know about?'
There was a long silence on the other end of the line as Peters considered. I knew it was only a matter of time.
'Who?' he asked.
'Guy Lewis maybe?'
Ron whistled. 'Are you serious? As in king of the chemical toilets? You think he's the one pulling the strings?'
'I take it you already know him?'
'Only what it said in the paper up here this morning. Chemical toilets may not be all that glamorous a racket, but there must be good money in it. According to the article, he and his late wife were big benefactors on the local arts scene. You want me to see what I can dig up on him?'
I knew I had Ron Peters then. I had sucked him in the same way Alex and Ralph had cornered me. Other than Ron's impossible affinity for natural foods, he's a pretty squared-away guy. When we worked together, we got along well because we were a matched pair of unconventional mavericks-typical homicide dicks.
'What do you want to know?' Ron asked.
'Everything.'
'Make it easy. How about some hints?'
'Look into Guy Lewis and his wife. Both wives, actually. And you might see if you can turn up any current connections between Daphne Lewis and Martin Shore.'
'The way you say that, it sounds as though there were some connections in the past,' Peters said.
'You got it. Shore and Daphne were equal partners in a porno ring over in Yakima.'
'No joke! Guy Lewis, too?'
'No. I'm thinking Guy found out about it only recently.'
'And it disturbed him enough to want to get rid of them?'
'Seems plausible.'
Over the phone, I heard the scribble of pencil and paper as Ron made notes. 'Anything else?' he asked.
'Actually, there is. Check out a prison guard over in Walla Walla-a guy by the name of Roger Tompkins. I'd like to know what he's up to.'
'You've got it,' Peters said cheerily. 'That's all?'
'One more thing. You take Consumer Reports, don't you?'
'Every month.'
'Would you see which companies manufacture the best high chairs and car seats? We're talking top-of-the- line here. I want names and model numbers both.'
'Car seats. You mean for little kids?'
'Yes.'
'I presume these are for Amber, the one who was yelling her head off a few minutes ago,' Peters said. 'Interfering is one thing. Aren't you going off the deep end?'
'They're not for Amber,' I replied. 'They're for Karen.'
'Karen? Your ex-wife? She's not having a baby, is she?'
'Not my ex-wife. My granddaughter. Kelly's baby.'
'Granddaughter!' Peters echoed. 'Wait a minute. How the hell did you end up with a granddaughter? You never told me Kelly was married.'
'She isn't,' I answered.
There was a long pause while Peters assimilated that information. 'Oh,' he said at last. 'Well, how about telling me what else is going on?'
Just then the call-waiting signal buzzed on Florence's line. 'Nothing much. I'll explain it all later. I've got to go now. This is a business line. I can't keep it tied up any longer.'
