Alex didn't mind seeing it again. For such a young woman, Tanya really is an exceptional actress.'
'Tanya!' I exploded. 'Tanya Dunseth was in tonight's production?'
'What other Tanya would I be talking about?'
'She's out of jail and back playing Juliet?'
'That's right. Her landlady and I posted bail for her around four-thirty this afternoon, just in time for her to make the eight-thirty curtain.'
'Jesus Christ! You've got to be kidding.'
'Beau,' Ralph said calmly. 'Of course I'm not kidding. What's gotten into you? Are you upset about something? Is something wrong?'
'You could say something's wrong,' I returned morosely. 'Just wait until I tell you.'
And I did.
CHAPTER 16
Once he heard what I had to say, Ralph was as thunderstruck as I had been. 'We've been nailed but good, haven't we?' he said. 'No doubt about it. What do we do now?'
That was a switch-a real first-Ralph Ames asking me for advice. 'Don't do anything until I get back, except try to keep her from skipping town. By the way, where is she now?' I asked.
'Back at Live Oak Farm, as far as I know, although I'm not sure we can count on her staying put for long. If she takes off, all those people out there will be on the street.'
'How come?'
'Because Marjorie Connors signed over the deed to Live Oak Farm to bail Tanya out of the slammer.'
'Why'd she do a thing like that?'
'Why else?' Ralph returned. 'Misplaced loyalty, most likely. Marjorie Connors volunteered, just like all the rest of us. There's a lot of that going around these days.'
'I don't understand how come they let her out in the first place. If Fraymore's evidence is that good…'
'My guess is the Festival probably pulled in a marker or two. If there's any political pull in this county, they own it. Remember, it's the height of the season. They wanted Juliet back if only temporarily. Fraymore gave me some advance notice. He told me prior to the hearing that they might allow bail, but I didn't think it would happen, purely as a matter of economics. Then, out of the blue, Marjorie turned up with a guarantee for the whole amount, and that was that. It was damned nice of her.'
'Stupid, you mean.'
'Well, yes. That, too. I can't help but feel sorry for Mrs. Connors. She's been hoodwinked even worse than the rest of us.'
'Don't worry about Marjorie Connors,' I told him. 'She is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. The woman's gone out of her way to amass a collection of somewhat troubled kids, Kelly Beaumont included. People who make a hobby out of rescuing orphaned wildlife or patching up injured birds are bound to get bitten or pecked on occasion.'
I doubt Ames was listening to me. 'Now that you mention it, is it possible Mrs. Connors knows the truth about Tanya?' he asked.
'Why would she?'
'Try this. If Tanya were to confide in anyone, wouldn't Marjorie Connors-the woman who kept her from being thrown into the streets-be the logical choice?'
'Hold on, Ralph. Tanya Dunseth doesn't do truth or logic either, for that matter. If she told Marjorie anything at all, you can bet it will be some far-fetched sob story designed to elicit the greatest amount of sympathy. You can ask, but I'll bet money what Marjorie knows has very little bearing on the truth-whatever that might be.'
'You mean every story is a variation on the same theme, so she can suck other people in as well.'
'You've got it. I personally don't give a damn how many people she cons, and I don't care how many lies she tells. My main concern isn't whether or not she's a liar, but whether or not she's a killer. If she is, my worry is that you and I may be helping put her back out on the streets so she can do it again.'
There was a pause. 'In other words,' Ralph Ames said, 'once a homicide cop, always a homicide cop. You don't like walking on the other side of the street, do you?'
'Don't joke around, Ralph. I've spent a lifetime putting killers away. It galls me to think I've been busting my tail to turn one loose.'
'Maybe she really is crazy,' he suggested thoughtfully. 'I believe you said Mr. Tompkins called her ‘disturbed.' We talked about it before. That's why they allow insanity pleas.'
'An insanity plea may work like a charm,' I told him, 'but I don't want anything to do with it. There's too much risk.'
'I can see you're going to have to give it some thought, Beau. As for me, I said I'm going to try to help her, and I will.'
Shortly after that, I rang off and tried to go to sleep. Even though I had barely slept for days, it still didn't work. I tossed and turned for hours. Periodically, I'd sit up and look at the clock, thinking it must be almost morning, but only fifteen or twenty minutes would have passed since I last checked. Sometime during the night, I reached a decision.
It wasn't necessarily a logical decision. I didn't have to worry about proving anything beyond a reasonable doubt, because it was strictly personal-an internal verdict, not something happening in a court of law. In those painful midnight proceedings, J.P. Beaumont weighed both guilt and innocence, analyzing Tanya Dunseth's complicated fabric of lies. I thought about questions of opportunity and motivation. I pondered the connections between her and the two victims and weighed Tanya's access to the murder weapons.
When my middle-of-the-night hearing ended, somewhere close to three in the morning, I decided that Tanya Dunseth was too damn hot for me to handle. If Ralph Ames wanted to defend her or help her cop a plea, that was strictly up to him-but I wouldn't be involved. I wanted out. And once I finally reached that conclusion, I was able to sleep.
The next day I was up and out so early that I arrived at the airport a full two hours before my scheduled departure. I figured once I reached Ashland would be time enough to tell Ralph that I was bailing out on him. I didn't figure he would give me that much grief over it, but I worried about potential repercussions from the Tanya Dunseth cheering section, both Alex and Kelly.
I worried, too, about whether or not Gordon Fraymore had learned I was AWOL from Ashland. What was it he had said? — If I were you, I wouldn't leave town. Fair enough. Detective Gordon Fraymore was definitely not J.P. Beaumont.
I flew into Medford from Portland aboard a Dash 8 called, appropriately enough, The Great City of Medford. Once back in my 928 with my cellular phone handy, I figured I had returned to civilization. I picked up the phone and dialed Ron Peters. He answered after only one ring.
'It's about time I heard from one or the other of you,' he complained. 'I've been calling all over and haven't been able to raise either Ralph or you. I even talked to Alex. She said she didn't know where you were and didn't particularly care. What happened? Did you two have a fight?'
'We didn't have a fight,' I said. 'I got called out of town. What's happening?'
'I've managed to pick up some information for you,' Ron said. 'Is now a good time?'
'It's fine. Shoot.'
'For one thing, I tracked down that prison guard in Walla Walla. Everything official says he's a real straight shooter. He's retired now. So's his wife. For many years, she's been a cook in the high school cafeteria over there.'
Ron Peters was up in Seattle doing what he could to help. I didn't have the heart to tell him that his information was yesterday's news.
'What else?' I asked.
'Martin Shore was a sleaze, but you already knew that. Here's the surprise. Years ago, Shore was married to Daphne Lewis, and the two of them ran a lucrative kiddie-porno ring out of Yakima. It got busted up about the time
