A Dead Nephew

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “In court, you should call me Attorney Huntington, and I’ll often refer to you as Mr. Jacobs. When we’re in a private consultation like this, there’s no reason for you not to call me Jessica.”

  “Okay,” Louie responded as he devoured the chocolate chip cookie and washed it down with milk. “I haven’t been this hungry in a long time,” he said as he peeled the banana. “A nurse on the jail ward said they were giving me an I.V. because I was dehydrated. She said that can make you nauseous and too sick to eat.”

  “The heat around here can do more than spoil your appetite, and dehydration can be extremely dangerous. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” All I needed was another cookie since I live with an “everyday saint” who ought to be crowned the patron saint of cookie lovers. “Please take my cookie and eat it. I don’t need the extra calories, but you do.”

  “You shouldn’t worry about calories. You think good, and you look good too.” Louie said in a shy, quiet voice. Then he grinned. “Not that anyone can tell in the outfit you’re wearing—even with the mask off.”

  “At least this outfit won’t expose my backside when I fall on it.”

  “Did someone tell you that happened to me?” he asked. I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t do it. When I smiled, his grin returned. “You got me!”

  “You must be exhausted after all the bellowing you did this morning, but I have a few more questions for you.” I spent another half hour with him and left with a list of almost a dozen names of friends who were with them at the casino the night Sacramento was killed. He wasn’t sure which of them were in the parking lot when he and Sacramento got into the scuffle.

  He also gave me the names of several people who’d visited his campsite. A few were schoolmates but some were homeless men who’d gone there with him rather than spend a night at a shelter. Maybe the Cleaner Man had killed Sacramento, believing he was one of the homeless men who’d stayed with Louie.

  On occasion, Louie had seen a hiker in the area during cooler weather. The Indio Hills are a notoriously easy place in which to get lost. Tourists who hike there are few and far between even in cooler weather. That might not be true for residents of the reservation like Nick. I planned to visit him next, but I didn’t want to ask more questions unless he was feeling better. After his encounter with the Cleaner Man, I wondered if it had triggered memories about someone he’d previously seen roaming around.

  “One last question,” I said refocusing on Louie. “I’ve already asked you this once, but please consider it again. The police spoke to some of the boys who witnessed your fight with Sacramento. We’re going to interview them again, and I’d appreciate hearing your version of why you were fighting before your friends tell me.”

  “It was stupid, and Sacramento was wrong. When I said he wasn’t having any problems with girls, that was true, but something was going on between him and an older woman. He was in a horrible mood after she left the casino that night.”

  “Who was she?”

  “I don’t know, but he was upset because the woman said someone told his father they were fooling around. When Sacramento asked who’d done it, she said his dad told her it was one of Sacramento’s loser friends without giving her a name.” Louie paused before continuing. “After he’d had a few beers that night, Sacramento asked me if I did it. I was upset because that meant he thought of me as a loser. It also made me angry that he believed I’d tell his father anything about him. I told Sacramento he was dumber than I thought if he believed his dad would care about anything I said.”

  “Was Sacramento having an affair with her?”

  “I thought so. I saw her drop him off once when I was waiting outside Sacramento’s house. It was still kind of early in the morning, so I wondered if he’d spent the night with her. She had dark hair and these big sunglasses on. I felt like I’d seen her before. I had the same feeling when I saw her leaving the casino. Sacramento was inside, standing near the door, watching her leave. I didn’t realize until later that he was angry about something she’d said, or I might have asked him who she was before all the other guys were hanging around us.”

  “When you say she was an older woman, do you mean older as in the same age as his mother?”

  “I’d say the woman leaving the casino was older than Sacramento but younger than his mother. What I remember most about the woman at the casino was that she was rich and beautiful. I could tell she was upset, and kind of hurrying away.”

  “Had you ever seen her with Sacramento’s mother? Could she have been one of her friends?”

  “I don’t think so. She was dressed up perfectly like them, which is one reason I figured she was rich. At first, I didn’t believe Sacramento when he told me his mother spent more than a thousand dollars on an outfit she was wearing. It was a lot like the outfit the woman had on—a kind of droopy top with plain black pants, a big purse, and tall spiky high heels. If it was the same woman, the car she drove when she dropped off Sacramento was a Mercedes. That’s another reason I figured she was a woman with plenty of money. If Sacramento’s mom won’t talk to you, Auntie Agnes can tell you about Belinda.”

  “That’s good thinking on your part. If I get a picture to show you, would you recognize Belinda?”

  “I’ll try.” Louie quit speaking, and I could tell he was tired. “When Sacramento cooled off, he said he was sorry for jumping to conclusions. When I asked if he was fooling around with the woman—whoever she was—he said I was jumping to conclusions. That made me laugh. Now I wonder if he lied to me because he was in trouble over her and didn’t want me to worry. He suggested that we get away and chill out, but he had something to take care of first. I was still kind of upset and told him I was going to my campsite. What a lousy decision that turned out to be.”

  “We all make mistakes, as Sacramento was willing to admit. It wasn’t a lousy decision you made that got him killed. Perhaps, some very bad ones made by other people in his life. Anyway, you’ve made a good decision to help me find his killer.”

  “Most people aren’t like Sacramento. They don’t admit their mistakes or feel as bad as he did when they jump to conclusions. When you talk to our friends who saw us fighting, you should ask them about Billy Castro and Timothy Ridgeway. They’ll tell you what scumbags they are. Sacramento couldn’t stand them.”

  “Will do. You focus on relaxing and getting well. Keep eating. I’m going to visit again tomorrow, and I’ll bring you homemade cookies.”

  “You’d better make sure that’s okay with Nurse Peggy. Nurses have big needles like the ones the Cleaner Man carries with him in his backpack.”

  “Wait! He has a backpack with needles in it. How do you know that?”

  “I’m not sure. I just suddenly remembered it. There’s a cartoon picture inside the flap with a man’s face on it that says The Cleaner Man.” My mouth dropped open. “It’s an old faded picture, and the man isn’t wearing white or a cowboy hat.”

  “Did he say anything about the picture or the needles you saw?” Louie frowned as he pondered my question.

  “I was scared when I saw the needles and scooted away from him. He said they weren’t for me unless I needed a special cleanser.” Louie paused. “Even if it turns out Billy Castro or Timothy Ridgeway did something to Sacramento, you won’t give up on capturing the Cleaner Man, will you?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s too late for me to back out now. My friends are like me—as curious as cats.”

  On my way to the lobby, I called Auntie Agnes. I wanted to get into Sacramento’s room as soon as possible after I checked on Nick. If I found the letter, I’d leave it where it was and call either George or Frank to take it into evidence. Agnes Lugo answered just as I spotted Kim, sitting in the lobby, talking on the phone.

  “Agnes, this is Jessica.”

  “Hello, Jessica. Have you found the Cleaner Man?”

  “Not yet, but we’re working on it.”

  “Louie’s okay, isn’t he?” Auntie Agnes asked in an
anxious tone.

  “Yes. He’s fine. He’s in the hospital, and I’m having some tests run on him to see if we can find out why he’s lost so much weight. He’s eating well, which I hope means he’s not going to lose more.”

  “That’s good. If he’s in the same hospital as Nick, I’ll drop by and visit him. His aunt, Rosie, can stay here with Nick.”

  “You’re with Nick?” I asked as Kim glanced at me. “I’m downstairs in the lobby. I just met with Louie. I’m afraid Louie’s not allowed to have visitors. Kim’s with me, and we were on our way up to visit Nick next.”

  “Poor Louie,” Auntie Agnes remarked. “They have lots of rules around here, don’t they? Come on up. Nick’s a little better, but he can’t have many visitors yet. Rosie had to leave the room when the Detective was here last night.”

  “This must be hard for Rosie. I’m sorry Nick was hurt while helping us.”

  “She wants you to find the Cleaner Man as much as I do. Nick’s often in those hills alone. We’re thankful you were with him when he was attacked, or he might have ended up like Sacramento.”

  I breathed a little easier, realizing she could be correct. It also made me more anxious to find the sicko who’d tried to inject Nick with some crud before he could harm anyone else’s nephew.

  “I have a favor to ask. If you don’t feel comfortable with my request, it’s fine to say no. I need to get into Sacramento’s room. Louie says he left some of his belongings there, and some of the tea the Cleaner Man gave him to drink may be there. If it’s there, maybe it contains a clue to the identity of this madman. Louie also told me that Sacramento showed him a letter that could be important. I’d like to see if it’s there rather than have the police search the house for something that might not even be there.”

  “It’s no trouble taking you to Sacramento’s home. I don’t always feel welcome there, but his father moved out, and his mother is gone on a trip. I promised Tessa to spend a little time with the dogs to make sure they don’t get too lonely without her. If you can drop me off at home after we stop by and visit Sacramento’s room, I can leave the car with Rosie, and she can stay with Nick longer.”

  “Of course. Kim’s with me, is that okay?”

  “Yes. The dogs will be happy to have more company than just me.”

  “What’s Nick’s room number?” I asked. “Kim and I will be there soon.” Kim had been watching me since I sat down next to her.

  “What’s up?” Kim and I both asked at the same time when I ended my call.

  “If Brien was still around, he’d swear we both have extra-sensory something or another,” I said when I stopped laughing.

  “Don’t you mean extra-sensitory something or other?” Kim asked.

  “He seems to have figured out that’s not correct. I assume that’s because you’ve been working on him since you two became a couple.” Kim looked down at her lap. Then she held up her hand with an engagement ring on it. “We were going to tell you all tonight. Please act surprised.”

  “Don’t worry. I am surprised, and it won’t wear off by tonight.” What surprised me wasn’t only what an incongruous pair Kim and Brien made, but that Kim had agreed to marry anyone. “I’m happy for you. Brien’s so lucky.”

  “I’m the lucky one. Love is hard to find, isn’t it?” Her dark eyes peered at me. She wasn’t just talking about the trouble she’d had by trusting the wrong men when she was still much too young to deal with men at all. Kim had also witnessed the mess my ex-husband had made of my life. I sighed as an image of Frank flitted through my mind. “Your luck has changed too, now that Frank’s back.”

  “You do have ESP.” I smiled as I put an arm around her. “Lately, I’ve also had awfully good luck with friends.”

  “Let’s go give Lady Justice a hand. Louie Jacobs deserves to have a little good fortune, too, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, he’s had a rough go of it,” I agreed. “He’s finally fighting back, which is good, except that he fought with the wrong people this morning.”

  On the way to Nick’s room, I filled Kim in on the surprising secrets I’d learned from Louie. That we hadn’t learned much from Billy Castro wasn’t surprising. He was not only a crook, as Louie had said, but a well-practiced one with plenty of experience keeping secrets as well.

  12 A Boy’s Room

  When Agnes used her key to let herself into the house, a maid came running. She followed a small pack of poofy Pomeranians. They swarmed us, delighted to have visitors, especially Auntie Agnes. In no time at all, we each held a pooch, with the last one begging to be held. I was about to try to juggle a second squirmy ball of fluff when the maid, Imelda, swept him off his feet as Agnes introduced us.

  “These are my friends, Jessica Huntington and Kim Reed. They’re giving me a ride home from the hospital, but I told them I had to stop here first.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. It’s good that you like dogs. I hope Agnes warned you.”

  “Oh, yes. They’re adorable. I’m glad we insisted on coming inside to help Agnes give them a little attention.”

  “Thank goodness you did! I can’t keep up with them when Tessa is away. I was just about to put them in their playroom, hoping they’ll wear themselves out. Please spend as much time as you can with them. May I bring you a cold drink or coffee? If you haven’t had lunch yet, I’d be happy to make sandwiches or salads for you.”

  “That sounds good to me,” Agnes replied. “They brought Nick his lunch, and I was so hungry that even hospital food looked good. Would you fix us iced tea?”

  Since I’d eaten that ice cream, I hadn’t thought about stopping for lunch even when they’d set a tray in front of Nick. Kim hadn’t said anything about it either, but she’s almost as obsessive as I am when we’re on a case.

  “Please don’t go to a lot of trouble, but iced tea would be great. It’s so hot outside.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. Please, have a seat in here, or you can follow me and sit in the great room off the kitchen.”

  “This house is stunning,” I replied. “I’d love to see the kitchen and great room.”

  “Follow me,” Imelda said. The kitchen was awash in light and color. Our furry friends wiggled to get down when Imelda opened a cookie jar filled with dog treats. They danced for her like a troupe of tiny ballerinas, making Imelda and the rest of us laugh.

  “Come on,” Auntie Agnes said. “I’ll take you on a tour of the entire house. It’s too much like an art gallery for me, but Tessa loves it. While you’re with me, I want to stop in Sacramento’s room. I haven’t had the heart to do it or to ask Tessa about it, but there were a few things I asked Sacramento to return to a friend. I should return them since he wasn’t able to do it.”

  I watched Imelda, who seemed oblivious to Auntie Agnes’ clever take on the reason for our visit. It was remarkably close to why we were here without mentioning Louie Jacobs or the letter we hoped to find.

  “We’d be glad to help put the things in the car for you,” Kim replied. “The art is incredible. Such vivid colors.” Kim was right about that. The great room was voluminous and a showcase featuring the art of indigenous people from the Americas, as well as Australian aboriginals, and a few pieces from Africa. Art museum was right.

  “Agnes, the dogs will follow you. When you show your friends the dogs’ fancy playroom, please leave them in there until after lunch. Then show your friends where to wash up. Even dog lovers don’t enjoy fur in their food.”

  “Will do. Wait until you see their playroom. These dogs live better than most people. They like the media room too. Nick and Rosie sometimes come with me in the evenings to watch shows. Imelda makes popcorn for us, and the dogs love that we hold them for a long time. When he was younger, Sacramento would join us too. If his parents were both gone, he’d bring Louie with him.”

  When we reached Sacramento’s room, it surprised me. It was large and furnished with sturdy, well-built furniture with only a few designer flourishes. The bed was covered with
a quilt displaying dramatic colors in a Native American pattern. There was a gorgeous grain to the wood.

  “Let’s get busy,” Agnes whispered. “Lunch will be ready soon.” She’d skipped a few rooms along the way to give us time to snoop. An alcove facing the windows was set up as a study with a desk and bookshelves. French doors opened to a small balcony with a gorgeous view of the mountains and desert. I put on a pair of latex gloves and checked the drawers in the desk. Kim examined the books on the shelves, although there was no time to make sure the letter wasn’t hidden in one of them as Jerry would have done.

  “Money drawer,” I said as Kim peeked over my shoulder.

  “That’s not chump change, is it?”

  “No, it looks like a cash register, loaded with twenty-dollar bills and even a few bigger ones,” I shut the drawer and went back to searching for the letter without finding it. I ran my hands underneath the desk in case he’d taped it there. I finally gave up.

  A wave of sadness hit as I examined the rest of the room. This was clearly a “boy’s room,” although there were hints of the man he might have become. Vestiges of Sacramento’s childhood were everywhere. Plaques and awards from school made it instantly apparent that he’d been a good student. A shelf with awards that he’d won for soccer, polo, and archery was near his bed. His choice of sports struck me as bridges between his privileged prep school life and his tribal heritage.

  Elements of his heritage were evident everywhere in photos, and an entire bookshelf was filled with books and artifacts about native peoples and their traditions. Some were “found objects” like those that belonged to many small boys around the valley—arrowheads, polished stones, a snakeskin, and pottery chips. Others comprised the beginnings of a serious collection. That included vintage drums that sat in one corner with an amazing headdress hanging above them. I’d caught a hint of leather and sage when we first entered the room. Those scents grew stronger closer to the drums and headdress.