As we drove back toward Federal Way, I couldn’t help wondering how Mel and I had ended up being mad at each other. How had that happened? But then I remembered another very useful quote: “Men are from Mars; women are from Venus.”
Based on my slim experience with the opposite sex, that’s a good rule of thumb. Right that minute, however, Mel was looking and sounding a lot like Mars.
Because Joanna had spent so much time out of the office the previous two days and because she knew she’d be leaving early that afternoon to help get ready for the bachelor party, she had brought along a sandwich for lunch. She ate it at her desk, accompanied by some coffee Kristin brought in from the break room. She had just tossed the wrapper in the wastebasket and was about to go back to work when Ernie Carpenter stalked into the office.
“What the hell’s going on with Jaime?” he wanted to know, dropping heavily into one of Joanna’s chairs. “I stopped by the bull pen on the way in. I was about to tell him what I’d found out in Benson. He about took my head off. I know his nephew’s been giving him all kinds of hell, but still…”
The “bull pen” was home to Joanna’s homicide unit. It had been crowded when only two investigating officers, the Double C’s, as Ernie Carpenter and Jaime Carbajal were called, had been the occupants. Now that there were three detectives, including one female, the bull pen was not only misnamed, it was also beyond overcrowded. Joanna’s suggestion that they steal some space from Patrol had met with adamant resistance. Her best bet in this situation was to try to placate Ernie.
“You’re right,” Joanna said. “I’m sure Jaime has his hands full of family issues at the moment.”
“Don’t we all?” Ernie asked.
“Tell me what you found out.”
Shaking his head, Ernie pulled out a notebook and opened it. He leaned back in the chair, crossed his legs, and scanned a page covered with cursive writing that was tiny when you considered it came from a man of his size and girth.
“Deb was on the money when she said we should track down the girlfriend. Believe me, LaVerne Hartley is a piece of work.”
“From what Margie Savage told us,” Joanna replied, “I thought LaVerne was Lester’s ex-girlfriend.”
“She was ex up until a month or so ago, but once the guy had some spending money again, she was ready to let bygones be bygones. They were back to being an item before he turned up dead.”
“He ended up with money?” Joanna asked. “How much money?”
Ernie nodded. “Enough that he was able to buy her a slick little turquoise ring. To hear her tell it, they were practically engaged.”
Joanna realized that squared with what Lester Attwood’s sister had told them at the crime scene-that LaVerne was a good-time girl. According to her, if Lester had no money, there was no LaVerne.
“So where was Lester getting all this extra cash?” Joanna asked.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Ernie agreed. “Whatever it was, LaVerne claimed that she had no knowledge of anything out of line. He claimed the Savages had given him a raise.”
“Not according to Margie Savage,” Joanna put in.
Ernie nodded. “That didn’t seem too likely to me, either. As for Jaime, he was good enough to tell me what was on the security tapes. Too bad we didn’t get better visuals, but what about this for an idea? What if drug traffickers were routinely using Action Trail Adventures as a rendezvous point? And what if Lester was in on it?”
“Good point,” Joanna said thoughtfully. “Action Trails is a long way from anywhere, but it comes with a clear reason to have traffic coming and going on a regular basis. It would give dealers a relatively private place to make their load transfers without anyone being the wiser. Lester probably saw the wisdom of letting them do it. All he had to do was keep quiet to earn a little extra cash on the side. Everything was peachy-keen until the Savage brothers came up with the bright idea of installing video surveillance.”
“Right. And if the traffickers were about to be caught, so was Lester,” Ernie said. “I think that’s what happened the night of the murder. Lester went out to warn them. First they took him out, and then they came back to do away with the recording equipment without realizing that the Savages had a backup system running somewhere off site.”
“There were ATVs on two of the trucks in the video,” Joanna said. “Dave’s analysis suggests that there were three vehicles used in the attack on Lester. If they’re using the ATVs as camouflage-as a ticket to come and go from out-of-the-way places with no questions asked-what are the chances that they’ve pulled the same stunt at other spots as well-other places where ATV enthusiasts hang out? We need to find a way to enhance those videos.”
Ernie nodded and stood up to go. “Jaime told me he was working on the enhancement situation. In the meantime, I’ll start checking to see if I can find any other locations they might have used. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find someone who bought better surveillance equipment.”
Ernie left then, and Joanna went back to work. She had promised Butch that she’d leave by three to help out with party preparations.
Debra Howell came by just as Joanna was clearing her desk. She was furious. “Machett turned us down,” she said. “He says that Inez Fletcher’s son refuses to allow her remains to be exhumed regardless of what his sister says.”
“Did you get a look at the death certificate?”
“Better yet, I have a copy of it.”
“Who signed it?”
“Someone named Dr. Clay Forrest.”
“Never heard of him,” Joanna said.
“He’s from Tucson,” Debra replied.
“Which means he’s probably a close personal friend of Alma DeLong,” Joanna said. “See what you can find out about him.”
Debra nodded and headed for the door. “By the way, have fun at the party tonight,” she added on her way out.
“I don’t understand why I couldn’t invite everyone,” Joanna said. “I mean, we’ve all worked together for years.”
She had been upset when she had learned that Dr. LuAnn Marcowitz’s bridal shower was scheduled for the same evening and time as the bachelor party.
“Don’t give it another thought,” Deb said. “I spend more than enough time with these clowns. I’m happy to be going to a ladies-only event.”
“I’d be glad to trade places.”
“Too bad, boss.” Deb Howell grinned. “No way. Hosting the bachelor party goes with the best-man territory. I hear you’re playing poker?”
“That’s right,” Joanna said. “Texas Hold’Em.”
“Is Dr. Machett coming?”
“He may,” Joanna said. “We invited him because we pretty much had to, since George Winfield will be there, too. After all, Machett will be working with Frank’s department as well as ours. I don’t know for sure if he sent back an RSVP.”
“If he shows up, then,” Deb Howell said, “do me a favor and clean his clock.”
Joanna nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
When I returned from my musings, Mel was still on the phone. She had dragged her notebook out of her purse and was taking notes with a kind of indecipherable shorthand that is beyond my capability.
“Okay,” she said finally to Barbara. “Thanks for the good news. Sounds like we’re making progress.”
“What progress?” I asked when she closed her phone.
With any other woman, it would have been different, but Mel doesn’t carry a grudge. We may have spats from time to time, but when the fight is over, it’s really over, as this latest one evidently was.
“Brad may have found Marina’s vehicle,” she said.
Brad was Brad Norton, one of our colleagues and a fellow investigator for S.H.I.T.’s Squad B.
