“The police report has copies of the photos taken. I also went to the Ace High this weekend and took digital photos. They’re in my computer, and I’ll have them printed for you by tomorrow.”
“And the shooter?”
“Gone,” Wish said.
“The gun?”
“She never saw one, and the sergeant says the police haven’t located one. But they have the casings and two bullets, including the one recovered from Sarah Hanna’s body, so the ballistics are really together. It was thirty-eight caliber. That’s it. There’s no description of the shooter or really the robbery except what Mr. Hanna said.”
“Or what the three witnesses could tell us.”
“Correct. It comes back to them. Okay, Nina, you know we decided to check the restaurants. After two years, I was just looking for security films. That’s going to take a while. It’s harder than I thought. I don’t have anything for you on that yet.”
“Fair enough.”
“And now we come to the big news.”
“You have big news?” Nina said.
“You are talking to Whitefeather Investigations,” Wish said. “Remember you asked me to check out the motel owner, James Bova, but not to try to talk to him? Well, I went out to his house at Incline Village this morning and jogged around there.”
“Oh, so that’s why you dug out those gym shorts this morning,” Sandy said.
“And he wasn’t there, but his housecleaner was. Her name is Esther. She cleans his house and his motel.”
“You talked to her?”
“I told her I was investigating, and she seemed to think I was undercover or something.” It was an old trick of Paul’s. “She said I was the first officer to talk to her. I said it was about time. She said she read about the shooting at Mr. Bova’s motel. And the next morning she came to clean the motel rooms the students had been in. She found a cash receipt in the room the single guy had stayed in. From a bookstore. She thought it might be important, so she gave it to Mr. Bova. And she hasn’t seen it since.”
Nina rubbed her temple. Sandy pulled at her lip.
Nina said, “If Bova didn’t pass it on to Cheney, that’s major.”
“He didn’t,” Wish said. “It’s not in the evidence list.”
“Why wouldn’t he tell the police?” Sandy asked.
“Maybe he was worried about a suit even then,” Nina said. “I don’t know. His lawyer hinted that he knew something.”
“The receipt might tell us if they really did come from Boston,” Sandy said. “Did she remember anything about the receipt?”
“She’s sharp. She was curious because of the shooting. She remembers it was from Sierra Books and the receipt listed the book titles. Two math books, she said. And the receipt was dated from the day before the shooting.”
“Sierra Books is the biggest bookstore on the South Shore,” Nina said. “They’re at the Y. Wish, I think they’re open until six. I know the manager. I’m going to call her.” She went into her office and called Gretchen Pike, who said she’d be willing to share her old records with Wish.
Wish and Sandy were waiting in the conference room.
“Better get going,” she said. “Check what got sold and who paid and whatever you can figure out for the day before the shooting. Call me tonight if you learn anything. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“Court is at nine-thirty,” Sandy reminded her.
“Right. Sandy, call Dave Hanna. Then call Chelsi Freeman. Make sure Hanna’s got a ride up the Hill. If there’s any problem, Wish, will you go down there early and bring him up?”
Wish nodded, pulled on the jacket, and left.
Sandy said, “Well, well. I had my doubts. His room at home still has his old penguin posters on the wall, and he still keeps his clothes on the closet floor.”
Nina said, “He’s grown up a lot. I’ve watched Wish for two years. He’s very dedicated. And he was trained well.”
“He always planned to be a cop.”
“He could still do that someday.”
“He’ll be moving out soon. Find some girl.”
“Yes, he will.”
“The boys, they always move to wherever the girl’s mother lives. My girls, they’ll stick around.”
“He’ll find someone here.”
“You know anybody?”
The question was rhetorical. But Nina thought of Chelsi.
Ten P.M. in the Reilly household, Bob in the living room watching a reality show, Nina blowing out her damp hair in the upstairs bathroom, wrapped in her green silk kimono.
“Bob?”
“Yeah!”
She unplugged the dryer and leaned over the railing. “I talked to your dad yesterday! Could you turn that down!”
“She’s about to roll over in the kayak!”
“Turn it down!”
“What!”
“Your dad and I don’t think a visit to Germany right now is a good idea!”
He turned it down and the silence bristled. She could see him sprawled on the couch with Hitchcock. His head turned toward her and he said, “It was all your idea, wasn’t it? I know my dad wanted to see me.”
“Of course he did, but he agreed that right now-”
“He’s not doin’ so good. I told you. Why can’t I go?”
“Well, you’ve been doing a lot of moving around-”
“You mean you have, and you drag me along.”
Stung, Nina said, “You sound like a punk. I don’t like your tone.”
Bob didn’t answer this.
Nina considered her remark and realized she was out of line. But Bob had been, too. “I know you’ve been working hard. It’s admirable, the way you and Taylor have gone around the neighborhood. I doubt I could have done that at fourteen.”
“Okay, then.” He sounded as though he had reconsidered, too. He didn’t want to argue any more than she did.
“We’ll talk about it some more in a few days. Meantime, speaking of removal of hazardous wastes, our recycling bin is overflowing.”
“As soon as this show is over.”
“Sure.” They had passed through some sort of delicate and subtle negotiation, and they were still friends. She had extracted an okay from Bob. He still did as he was told. But she couldn’t read him like before, as though his transparent heart were being infiltrated by the shadows and solids of coming adulthood.
11
A BRIGHT MORNING AMID THE PINES, THE Springmeyer fountain actually spouting water for once in the courthouse yard, a couple of police officers exiting the adjacent station with coffee in their hands, stopping to watch the squirrels. Betty Jo Puckett came marching up the trail with her client, wearing a dark pantsuit and a diamond solitaire at her throat.
“Morning!” she called out. Nina stopped and shook hands. Bova wore a wool sports jacket. His hand squeezed Nina’s.
“It’s all over, then?” he said.
“Your part in the case is. With a few caveats.”
“I explained the conditions to Jimmy. We’re willing to go with those. You have the paperwork?” Betty Jo said.
“I’ll give you copies as soon as we’re inside, so you can look them over before the case is called.”
“Everything’s hunky-dory, then. I assume Mr. Hanna will be here?”
“Due any minute.”
“Anything else we need to talk about?”
“A receipt,” Nina said. They had paused in the shade just outside the doors to court. Nina nodded to a lawyer she knew who was just going in.
“You’re as good as they say,” Betty Jo said. “How did you ever learn about it? We were going to give you that as soon as we had the file-stamped paperwork.”
“I don’t want it,” Nina said. “I want to look at it but not touch it. Then I want Mr. Bova to deliver it to Sergeant Cheney with a full explanation.”
“Absolutely. Jimmy, show it to her right now, okay?” Bova reached into his pocket and pulled out a small unsealed envelope. The Sierra Books receipt was inside.
“I still don’t know if it belonged to the witnesses,” he said. “Could have been the people in the motel room the day before.” He held it out and Nina examined it. Then she reached into her briefcase and got out a copy of it. Wish had slipped it under her office door the night before.
“Yes, that’s it,” she said. “I’ll be checking to make sure that goes into police evidence.”
“Wow!” Betty Jo said. “I’m outclassed, no doubt about it. We didn’t follow up, no need to since the case wasn’t happening. But what did you learn? I’m as curious as hell.”
“It was a cash purchase the day before the shooting,” Nina said. “The clerk can’t remember anything about the purchaser, not at this late date.”
“How did you learn there was a receipt, though?”
“Good investigative work,” Nina said briefly.
“I guess you’re not violating anybody’s privacy if it’s a cash purchase,” Betty Jo said as if to herself.
“Not at all,” Nina said.
“Well, I’m sorry,” Bova said. “I just didn’t feel it was important. Betty Jo didn’t hear about it until last week.”
“I scolded the shit out of him,” Betty Jo said. “He knows if you get any farther finding the shooter, he’s going to have to testify about it. He’s going to cooperate fully. So what books did the
