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A Dead Nephew

Page 17

by Anna Celeste Burke


  “Where was I when that happened?”

  “Outside on the patio with your dad while I was helping your mom in the kitchen. You’ve got to stay closer to the food if you want to have conversations with two teenagers.”

  “It’s no wonder Evie’s becoming so clever. She’s been hanging out with you.”

  “Ooh, flattery gets you a kiss,” I said, stepping on tiptoes to place a little kiss on his lips. “Is she right? Is it performance anxiety?”

  “It could be,” Frank responded after frowning. Then he shrugged. “I feel uncomfortable and out of place, just knowing I’ll no longer be sitting at a desk.”

  “That won’t last more than a few days, sweetie,” I said, hoping I was right. Frank shrugged and gently tightened his grip, still being careful about his ribs.

  “Your hair smells so nice. It’s like the air after it rains. How do you do it?”

  “Do what?” I was barely able to speak, pressed against him as he held me.

  “Get more beautiful every single minute of every single day.” Before I could answer, Frank crushed my lips with a kiss. When he abruptly let go, I stood there still caught in the spell he’d cast.

  As he fled into the hallway, I felt like a woman in a Gothic romance novel, standing alone on the edge of a cliff watching her man go off to sea. Anastasia sensed my distress and whined as she shoved her nose into the palm of my hand. Then Frank turned around, dashed back, and gave me another toe-curling kiss.

  “Why not get married at Disneyland?” he whispered in my ear. “I don’t want to draw out our engagement to plan a big wedding with all the bells and whistles. Do you want to waste even a minute deciding which of the people we barely know to invite to the wedding, the reception, or both?”

  “Absolutely not! We’ve both been there, done that. All I want is time with you. We could elope and then take the kids to Disneyland to celebrate—all the kids, including the big ones sitting around the dining room table tonight.”

  “Elope, where?”

  “Somewhere romantic. Just the two of us, gazing into each other’s eyes under the stars. Maybe in a suite at the beach or a cottage in the mountains. Whatever sounds best to you. Think about it.”

  “I’ll have a tough time thinking about anything else,” Frank said with a look in his dark eyes that made me shiver. I hoped he was having second thoughts about leaving. “I really do have to go. I don’t want to give anyone a reason to wonder about my commitment to be a good cop.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by that since there had to be more to it. I wanted to ask, but he had a sixty-mile drive ahead of him and plenty to do when he got home even if the kids were staying with their grandparents.

  “Get going. Drive carefully, darling. I’ll call tomorrow and check up on you to be sure you arrived at work on time.”

  I walked back into the kitchen, blinded by the hazy glow clinging to me with Anastasia nudging me around objects in my path.

  “I knew it! She’s got that ‘not of this earth’ bubble around her that means she’s been making out in a corner with Frank. You two need to get past living in two different houses in cities that are so far apart.”

  “I wish we could,” I replied, realizing there was still an ethereal quality to my voice.

  “It’s not that easy, Tommy,” Laura said in a sweet voice. “They live in different cities because they work in different cities. Frank’s got kids in school who probably won’t want to leave their friends behind.”

  “Love will find a way,” he added, smirking at the cliché he’d used.

  “Won’t it, Anastasia?” Fortunately for Tommy, she pirouetted in such a charming way I ignored the impulse to wallop him for batting his eyelashes at me with the smart-aleck comment about love.

  “I’m taking him home now, so he can do his homework,” Jerry added. “Before I go, I’m going to play big brother and ask you to be careful tomorrow since you’re planning to visit Sammy Keanu. Most of the scoundrels in custody or hiding out are predictably defective dirtbags. Whoever this Cleaner Man is, defies prediction. That makes him much more dangerous.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly. He’s one for the books—a book I hope we close soon.”

  “That sounds more like daddy than big brother,” Tommy quipped.

  “Say goodnight to your faux big sister and her adorable dog.”

  “Good night,” Tommy said and bowed low. My adorable dog bowed too.

  Once Tommy and Jerry left, I searched for Bernadette to thank her for another amazing meal. She might as well own a restaurant given all the people she is feeding. I walked through the house but couldn’t find her or Auntie Agnes.

  “Maybe Saint Bernadette finally flew the coop and took Auntie Agnes with her,” I wondered aloud as I returned to the kitchen. Anastasia cocked her head as if puzzled. When she ran to the door leading out to the patio and pawed at it, I realized that had to be where they’d gone.

  “How dense can humans be, huh, girl?” I asked as I stepped outside with her.

  “Hey, you two. I came to say thank you for all your hard work today.” Anastasia wagged her tail at them and then took advantage of the outdoor excursion to inspect her territory. I’d just sat down when Anastasia began to bark.

  “What is it, Anastasia?” I asked as I jumped to my feet. Several things happened almost simultaneously—an object came in from high above a tall hedge on the far side of the yard. Then, the motion sensing lights near the roof came on, and I heard the whirring of a golf cart as it took off. I ran to grab Anastasia before she could get too close to the object thrown into the yard. One of Peter’s security guys came running and swung himself over the gate, leaping into the yard landing inches from me.

  “Don’t touch it!” He warned. By then Bernadette and Auntie Agnes had joined me.

  “It’s a golf ball,” Bernadette noted, more underwhelmed than relieved. “Give it to me and I’ll put it in the bucket with the others.”

  “Before you do that, let’s make sure it’s not ticking, okay? After all, this isn’t a night course like the one in Indio,” I responded. “Why did the golf cart take off like that?”

  “It’s probably an embarrassed neighbor practicing while the course is empty. I would have taken off too with barking, yelling, and the lights coming on.”

  “We’ll check the surveillance camera feed, but Bernadette’s probably correct. There’s nothing odd about the golf ball,” the guard said examining it closely.

  “Thanks, Rory. I’m glad it didn’t explode when you picked it up and I assume that also means there’s no nasty message on it for me. So much for sitting around out here. I’m calling it a night.” After hugs for Bernadette and Auntie Agnes, Anastasia and I left. I still couldn’t shake the fact this “accident” felt intrusive.

  “Maybe el hombre limpio has taken up golf. What do you think, Anastasia?” Apparently, not much. I didn’t even get a woof out of her before she tore off into the kitchen and started slurping her water.

  “Rory, please let me know what you can see after you’ve reviewed the video footage.” I shut the sliding door behind me after hearing Rory holler.

  “Will do! Sleep well.”

  15 Sammy’s Place

  “Good morning, Peggy.”

  “Jessica! You’re here bright and early.”

  “Too early. I’m not a morning person and it was a later night than I counted on. I need to get to Yucca Valley and back before my afternoon appointments. I didn’t want Louie down since he’s expecting me.”

  “I’m not sure how awake mighty-mouth is yet. I gave him his morning meds and breakfast, but he hasn’t said a word. I’m not sure he’s a morning person, either.”

  “He loved the cookies yesterday, and I said I’d bring him homemade cookies baked by a friend. Louie insisted I ask permission from you before I give them to him. He says you wield the power of the needle—a really big one.”

  “Oh, good grief! He didn’t take me seriously, did he?” She picked up the phoniest-looking h
ypodermic needle I’d ever seen. “I showed it to him as the one we use when a patient needs a mega-dose of sedatives to quiet them down. I was sure he knew I was joking.”

  “He may have been exposed to an odd mix of chemicals for months before he went to jail. We’re not sure yet what those chemicals were, but they jumbled his memory and may have affected his judgment. His memory seems to be improving, but he’s got a way to go before his thinking will be clear—if it ever is. Those problems are one of the reasons he’s been wrongfully convicted of a murder he didn’t commit.”

  “Now, I feel bad. None of that background is in his record, although it does say he’s on his way to prison for murder. He doesn’t strike me as a killer, or even dangerous, which is why I’ve teased him so much. Since we’re in a ‘pretend’ quarantine situation, go ahead and give the guy his cookies for goodness’ sake.”

  “Before I visit with Louie, I also want you to know that one of the chemicals we believe he was exposed to causes weight loss. He probably ingested it in the form of a tea made from powder he was given. Last night, I went through some of his belongings and found a small amount of the powder. A police lab will test it. In the meantime, a friend of mine, Laura Stone, may come by later today and talk to you about contacting Louie’s doctor to have more tests run if there’s a chance the substance can still be detected in his body.”

  “Laura Stone is one of the operating room nurses, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, that’s her,” I replied.

  “May I ask what the tests will be trying to find?”

  “I can’t pronounce the chemical name. It’s an industrial chemical that’s just referred to on the street as DNP.”

  “No!” Peggy gasped. “DNP burns fat and raises body temperature as well as causing weight loss. I thought it was illegal now.”

  “It’s illegal to sell it as a weight-loss drug, but it’s still widely used in industry for making dyes and pesticides and a bunch of other things. I don’t get why anyone would put something like that into their bodies, but I guess you’ve heard of it before.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. My sister was given DNP, years ago, by a boyfriend who was a bodybuilder and worked out with her. I’m not sure it’s what killed her, but it contributed to her weight loss, which caused her death.”

  “Louie had no idea what he was taking since he was told to use it as a cleansing tonic. Apparently, it cleaned him out all right.”

  “Who would do such a thing to him? He’s not much more than a kid.”

  “We’re trying to find that out and hoping to keep him safe while we do it.”

  “I’ll do my part. No one’s getting in here without proper authorization. Thanks for letting me know about Laura. Will she want to speak to Louie while she’s here?”

  “She might, if she has time and it’s okay with you,” I replied.

  “I bet Louie would be happy to have another visitor. He’s often surprisingly sociable for a guy who seems to have spent much of his young life as a loner,” Peggy said with a note sadness in her voice. “Let’s go see if he’s awake.”

  “These cookies will do the trick if he’s not. I brought some for you too,” I said, handing a bag to Peggy.

  “They smell wonderful! Thank you.” Then we went through the quarantine procedure and made our cookie delivery. Sitting up in bed with a goofy grin on his face, eating cookies, Louie didn’t appear to be much older than Frank’s son, who wasn’t quite sixteen. When Peggy left us alone, I showed Louie a couple photos of Belinda Morgan I’d downloaded from a charity event on the Internet.

  “No. That’s not her,” Louie said. “The woman I saw was younger than this one. The other woman standing behind her looks more like the woman I saw. I can’t tell for sure from this picture, though. Can you get another one?”

  “I’m sure I can with the help of my assistant, Kim. I have more news for you.” Louie looked at me, and his smile faded. “It’s not bad news, although they may want to run more tests on you. Auntie Agnes let us into Sacramento’s room, and we found some of your things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Mostly clothes and workout shoes, a few books, but a little of the powdered tea was in a baggy. I’m having it checked for fingerprints, and the powder is going to be analyzed by a lab.”

  “Well, you won’t find any of the Cleaner Man’s fingerprints, if that’s what you’re thinking. He doesn’t have any.”

  “What?” I asked, trying not to appear as shocked as I felt. “How do you know that?”

  “It just popped into my head, like when I remembered the backpack. He told me—and showed me his fingers. There weren’t any lines on them.”

  “Was it like when you tried to see his face?” Louie didn’t answer right away.

  “No,” he said and then paused again. “The Cleaner Man’s face is still blank, but I can see his fingers. They look like regular fingers, but there aren’t any lines on them.”

  “Why did he show them to you?”

  “Uh, it was something about not being an ordinary man but a chosen one.” Louie rubbed his temples before he spoke again. “Can I quit thinking about it now? It makes my head hurt.”

  “Sure, I’ve got to go now anyway. You enjoy your cookies. What do you do around here all day?”

  “I eat and sleep and watch TV. Nothing much.”

  “Can I bring you anything when I come back?”

  “How about a couple of those books I left in Sacramento’s room? He wanted me to read more about the old West and our past as native people. I didn’t get very far, but I owe it to him to keep trying.”

  “I’m happy to do that, Louie. It won’t be until this evening or maybe even tomorrow.”

  “That’s fine. You must be busy with other cases besides mine.”

  “I am, but the other cases aren’t more important than yours,” I said. “Most of them are routine, with no sinister character running around without fingerprints.”

  “There’s nothing routine about that, is there?”

  “Nope. I’ll bring you those books. After visiting Sacramento’s room, I can see how important his heritage was to him. That and his interest in the environment.” When I mentioned the environment, I thought about the report I’d found hidden in the vent. “I’ve got to go, but I do have another question for you. Did Sacramento ever say anything to you about an environmental impact study? Or did you see a report with a bluish cover on it?”

  “I saw something in a blue cover. He was kind of upset about it, but he wouldn’t tell me much because he wasn’t sure what it was all about. Sacramento never mentioned it again, so I figured he was still working on it.”

  “Do you know where he got it?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Well, I’d better get going. Relax and enjoy the cookies.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” When I reached the door, I stopped. “You may get a visit from a friend of mine who’s a nurse here. Don’t worry, because Peggy already gave me permission for Laura Stone to say hello to you if she has time.”

  “I’d be happy to have a visit from a friend of yours.”

  “You’ll like her—she’s a very nice person; smart and attractive.”

  “I’ll save cookies for her,” he said as he ate another one. “At least, I’ll try.” When I walked out the door, he was still smiling.

  *****

  It took me an hour to reach the Soaring Hawk Casino. Large, and more rustic than the casinos in the Coachella Valley, it had an Old West vibe. There was a digital banner running along the front of the casino, promoting the gambling games that you could play, and the live music featured. The parking lot was packed even though it was still early, and the casino had only been open a few weeks.

  This close to Camp Wilson, I’m sure it was even more packed on evenings and weekends when the marines stationed nearby were off duty or on leave. That’s if they had the energy to party after a day of training in the desert. The air ground combat facility is known as a place that o
ffers rigorous training in a terrain that’s much like that found in the Middle East, where soldiers are often deployed these days.

  When I opened the door to the Soaring Hawk Casino, the blast of cool air was welcome. I’d only walked a short distance from where I’d parked my car, but the dry air had parched me. It’s cooler here than at home by ten degrees or so, although it was still hot. It’s cooler because, at two thousand feet above sea level, the “high desert” is at a higher elevation than the Coachella Valley.

  With a breeze blowing, I was coated in a fine layer of dust by the time I stepped inside. The potpourri of desert scents carried on the wind is a little different in the Yucca Valley. Apart from the more rustic nature of the area, the most striking feature is the Joshua trees that are everywhere.

  Their outstretched spiny arms are something straight out of a science fiction movie. Some of the 1950 low budget films were shot against the backdrop of the otherworldly trees. They are really succulents like cactus rather than trees. Nor are they long for this world. Joshua trees are a slow-growing, fast-dying species.

  Once inside, I had no problem spotting Sammy. I heard his big, hearty laugh even before I saw him. When he spotted me, he stepped out from behind the bar and came to welcome me.

  “Come, meet the folks who work here.” I felt like royalty as he introduced me as his lawyer friend from “that other valley.” They teased me about the valley being the one with too many tourists, golf courses, and spoiled wild places. I doubt I could remember all their names, but their friendly faces were impossible to forget. This would have been a wonderful place for Sacramento and Louie to work.

  “Let’s have something to drink, and you tell me what it is you want to know.”

  “Iced tea,” I said.

  “How about da Maui tropical kine?” Sammy asked in exaggerated pidgin English.

 

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