Pete’s death.
‘Why would Junior Deloache be in Port Leo?’ he asked.
‘One of his dad’s legit business concerns is a couple of small motels in Galveston. They’re clean as a whistle, which is driving the Galveston cops nuts. Papa might be turning over that side of the business to Junior; it’s less risky. He and his associate, a guy named Anson Todd, both told Judge Mosley they were renovating the old Sea Haven. And Judge Mosley thinks they’ve lied about their whereabouts the night Pete died.’
‘I bet the Deloaches launder dirty money through the so-called legit businesses like these condos.’ Delford tapped his finger against his lip. ‘Do they know how the Deloaches run in the Houston drugs?’
‘Probably different channels. Some from other parts of Texas, some up from Mexico, some in from the Gulf.’
‘So why’s he here? There wouldn’t be near the market in Port Leo for drugs, unless shrimpers and retirees suddenly go coke-happy,’ Delford said.
‘But we’ve got navigable bays. Quiet beaches. Only a few hours from the south side of Houston, closer to Padre and all those tourists. And a lot fewer officers.’
Delford frowned. ‘So Junior’s here to smuggle drugs?’
‘Junior may be exiled where he can do the least amount of damage. The Houston detectives told me he’s famous for being an overgrown brat.’
‘Even if Pete turns out to be a suicide we need to know about these people. Sit down for a minute.’
She sat, smelling a lecture in the air.
Delford flattened his palms on the table. ‘Claudia, I have faith in you. But one area where you could stand definite improvement is in dealing with people.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Why are you grilling the Hubbles on their statements?’
‘I didn’t grill anybody. I hadn’t even talked to them before today. I just wanted to review their statements with them, see if there was anything else they wanted to add.’
‘There wasn’t. I won’t have the senator and her family treated like criminals.’
‘I did no such thing.’
He rubbed his stubby-fingered hand across his eyes. He looked ten years older, she realized, than he had last week. There’d been a bad cancer scare with him last year, and a sudden tremble of worry took her. He was not a young man anymore.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
‘Fine. Just tired.’ He leaned back in his chair and a new hardness tensed his jaw. I’m pulling you off as the lead investigator in the case.’
Her face felt frozen. ‘Why?’
‘Because one thing we’re going to be in this department is professional, and you haven’t been.’
‘How?’ Don’t get mad, stay calm, she thought. A finger of sweat trickled down her back.
‘You clearly don’t like Faith Hubble, and it’s coloring your view of this case. And given all the likely publicity, it’s best Gardner takes the lead. You can still work on the case, just under his direction. I already sent him to Corpus this afternoon for the autopsy.’
Claudia heard her voice go ragged. ‘This is unwarranted, Delford. You’ve never treated me this way before.’
‘Defensive don’t suit you. I’ve made my decision.’
She sat stunned.
Delford’s phone buzzed. He scooped up the receiver and listened. ‘Yeah, oh, yeah. I forgot. I’ll send up Claudia.’ He hung up and gestured toward the blue flyer on his wall of Marcy Kay Ballew. ‘That missing girl’s mother from Louisiana’s here. Can you talk to her?’
‘That was the sheriff’s case.’ David’s case, to be exact.
‘Technically, yes, but she’s been wanting to know what we’re doing in the city to help.’ Delford shrugged. ‘Maybe this’d be good for you to focus on now.’
‘I’ll talk with her.’ Anything was preferable to sitting through an undeserved rebuke.
Not quite. ‘By the way,’ Delford said, ‘your ex is with her.’
David sat, ramrod straight, his deputy’s Stetson resting on his knee. His stare drifted to Claudia as Mrs Ballew talked; Claudia forced herself to concentrate on the woman’s words.
‘Marcy is a really good girl. The rose tattoo, that was simple foolishness. I’d already started saving for when she wanted to remove it. She is really quite sweet.’ Mrs Ballew perched at her chair’s edge.
‘I’m sure she is,’ Claudia said.
‘And it would be easy for me to say I have no intention of being a pest, but I have every intention of being a pest.’
‘You’re certainly not a pest, and I want to assure you we’re doing everything we can to search for your daughter here in the county.’ David nodded at Claudia. ‘Detective Salazar and I are used to working together, and I’m sure we can find your daughter.’
Gosh, you hardly ever spoke so gently to me, Claudia opened her copy of the Ballew file that David had brought; the same picture from the flyers was on top. A photo, probably taken at a chain department store, based on the cheesy fake background of an autumn-kissed farm and barn. Marcy had reddish hair, cropped short, slightly crooked teeth, thin lips, skin supple as a peach.
‘No leads from the flyers yet, right?’ Claudia asked David. He nodded and foisted his extrasympathetic gaze toward her.
Mrs Ballew swallowed. She was a spare, florid-cheeked woman, with a red frizz of hair and too-long nails painted a bright lavender. She wore khakis and a denim blouse, dressed for a day shopping at an outlet mall instead of beating the pavement for her missing child. ‘Well, everyone back in Deshay said that Marcy ran off, you know, but I didn’t believe it. Yeah, she had once before, but that was after a huge fight and she told me she was running off and I dared her to and she went to New Orleans for two nights and then ran out of money and came home, crying for her mama.’ Mrs Ballew blinked, worn out by her monologue. ‘Marcy don’t have a boyfriend right now, so I don’t think she took off with a boy.’
‘And no one in your family, your circle of friends, knew Port Leo?’ David asked. He kept glancing at Claudia and she thought. Don’t use this woman’s grief just to get within two feet of me.
‘No, none.’
Claudia wondered if the Ballew girl had traipsed to the Coastal Bend for an unannounced vacation, lost her wallet, maybe turned to hitchhiking or hooked up with some of the party-minded sail bums that trolled from Galveston to South Padre Island. She hoped that was the answer.
‘Will they drag the bay again?’
‘Probably not, ma’am,’ David said, ‘unless we have new reason to.’
‘Will they search again?’
‘Until there’s more evidence to point she actually stopped in the county, probably not,’ Claudia said.
Mrs Ballew sagged.
‘And you’re absolutely sure that your daughter knew no one in Port Leo?’ Claudia asked.
‘She hung out with boys, sometimes, at the bars, and sometimes they weren’t from Deshay. She never mentioned Port Leo to me.’
Claudia debated. No clues, no witnesses, no reason for the girl to be here. But she couldn’t just turn this woman away. ‘Tell me about Marcy.’
Mrs Ballew pointed toward the file. ‘But you have the information
…’
‘I know. But it would be more helpful coming from you. You live in Deshay. How long have you been there?’
‘Three years. We used to live in Shreveport. But in Deshay I got a job working for a cousin of mine at his shrimp restaurant, and he’s promised to make me a full partner in a couple of years.’
Shrimping was big along the Louisiana coast, and it was a lifeblood in Port Leo. Was that coincidence? But she’d consulted a map: Deshay was a fair ways north of the Louisiana coastline and huddled up close to the Texas border. ‘Did Marcy work?’
