Body Heat

by Brenda Novak

  “According to the sheriff, he’s the one.”

  “The sheriff?” she echoed.

  Anne piped up. “Sheriff Cooper is a cousin of Edna’s, you know.”

  Around here, everyone seemed to be related or have some type of connection. When it came to investigating criminal proceedings, that wasn’t a good thing. “So?”

  “Rumor has it Stuart trashed Rod’s motel room only hours before he was killed,” Gary replied. “That’s what set him off. But he’s always had it in for Stuart. Everyone knows that.”

  “It is pretty coincidental that Stuart would wind up dead less than a week after his half brother came back to town,” Anne said, as if that was as incriminating as finding Rod’s DNA at the crime scene.

  Sophia had thought the Dunlaps might point a finger at the bastard child they’d rejected. The sheriff was probably going along with it to avoid a panic and to curb the chances of a backlash against undocumented aliens. But there wasn’t any hard evidence to tie Rod to the murder, so she hadn’t been too worried. “We don’t prosecute people on coincidence,” she said.

  “Folks at the Firelight are saying he stopped by looking for Stuart just before the murder,” Gary pointed out.

  “That’s circumstantial, too. It wasn’t Rod. I was with him at the Firelight, helping him look.”

  “But what did he do after he left you?” Gary said. “That’s the question. He won’t tell anyone where he went.”

  They couldn’t talk about the safe house and he had enough honor not to drag her down with him by mentioning that he’d ultimately gone to her place.

  Sophia had hoped to keep her sex life out of public scrutiny, especially when there was already talk of an affair between her and her stepfather. Especially because, for a certain period of time, he’d been at her place alone. But this gave her no choice. She had to provide as much of an alibi as she could.

  “I’m telling you he didn’t do it,” she said. “Thanks to whoever damaged his motel room, he needed a place to stay. So I let him stay with me.”

  This revelation apparently wasn’t clear or specific enough to change her mother’s mind. But Sophia couldn’t blame her for not catching on sooner. She’d denied having much contact with Rod only twenty minutes earlier. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Anne said. “Maybe he slipped out while you were asleep.”

  “He was there alone for a while, but he was hurt and had no transportation. And once I got back, which was close to the time we believe Stuart was killed, he didn’t go anywhere.” Sophia sent her mother a significant look, but it did no good.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I would’ve known about it.”

  “Not if—” she began, but Gary nudged her and realization finally dawned. “You mean…he wasn’t on the couch?”

  Sophia sighed. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Detective Lindstrom had picked Rod up for questioning at the Boot and Spur Dude Ranch five miles west of town. Because the rooms came as part of an expensive vacation package that included an entire week’s stay, chuck wagon dinners, hoedowns and trail rides, and very few people wanted to spend a week riding horses in one hundred and ten degree weather, they’d closed for a few weeks to do some remodeling. But the manager was nice enough to rent Rod a room, anyway. Fortunately, they didn’t have to worry about the newspeople bugging them to do the same. The crews weren’t interested in sequestering themselves outside of town; they didn’t want to miss any of the action.

  Although he’d been sitting in an interrogation room for the past fifteen minutes, trying to tell Sheriff Cooper and his sidekick, Detective Lindstrom, that he’d had nothing to do with Stuart’s murder, they weren’t listening. Just as they really started grilling him, a deputy with hair even redder than Lindstrom’s poked his head into the room.

  “Sheriff, I got a call for you.”

  “Take a message.” Intent on his purpose, Cooper scooted his chair closer to Rod. “It’ll be a lot easier on everybody if you tell us the truth, son.”

  The country charm was no doubt calculated to make Cooper seem like a trustworthy parent figure. He’d probably been taught that in Successful Interrogation 101. But the only parent figure Rod could trust had died a long time ago and he wasn’t likely to forget it. “I’m not your son,” he pointed out. “And I have nothing to say. Either charge me with a crime or let me go.”

  “Don’t ask for more trouble than you’re already in. I don’t have to explain to you—”

  “Sheriff?”

  Irritation etched deep grooves in Cooper’s weathered face as he realized the deputy who’d interrupted him was still there. “What now, Phil?”

  “It’s that phone call, sir.”

  “What about it?”

  “Chief St. Claire says she needs to talk to you right away. She claims she has information pertaining to the murder of Stuart Dunlap.”

  This gave him pause. “Did she say what it was?”

  “No, sir.”

  Muttering a few words that sounded like, “This better be good,” he hefted his considerable weight onto his feet and left.

  Meanwhile, Lindstrom folded her arms, crossed her legs and sat back. “Did you do it?”

  Rod didn’t bother answering. This was a load of crap, a waste of time. They had nothing on him. He was more concerned with what was happening outside the room. He didn’t want Sophia to do what he figured she was doing. He could handle this on his own.

  Lindstrom spoke up again. “The D.A. will go easier on you if you tell the truth.”

  He shot her a dirty look. If she thought she could take over for Cooper and do a better job, she was more clueless than he’d supposed, which was saying something. “Easier for whom? You?”

  “You know how these things work.”

  “Exactly.” And even if he had killed someone, it would take smarter interrogators than Tweedledum and Tweedledee to make him crack.

  She tried to talk to him again, but he leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor without responding, and she finally understood that she wasn’t going to get anywhere. She fell silent, leaving Rod to wonder what was being said on the phone. Was Sophia telling the sheriff that they’d been together almost all night?

  He hoped not. He didn’t want to give them anything.

  Maybe she’d come up with a piece of hard evidence, something that pointed to someone else….

  A few minutes later, the door opened, and Sheriff Cooper stood there looking as disappointed as a kid who’d just had his Halloween candy stolen by the neighborhood bully. “That’s it for today. You can go.”

  “Excuse me?” Rod said.

  “You heard me,” Cooper replied. “This doesn’t mean I won’t bring you back in, if necessary, but we’ve talked enough for now. Lindstrom, drop him off at his motel.”

  Lindstrom came to her feet. “But…what’s changed?”

  “Coroner says Stuart was killed at about four-thirty. I called him as soon as I hung up with Chief St. Claire.”

  “And?”

  “Rod here has an alibi from four on.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Where was he?”

  Cooper gave her a look that said this was going to be good. “Having sex with the chief of police.”

  Her mouth dropped open but she quickly recovered. And then she grew angry. “So that’s why you took her side at the FBI meeting,” she snapped. “She was putting out for you!”

  Damn it. Sophia shouldn’t have confessed. Her enemies, including Lindstrom, would use this against her, try to sway public opinion, make her look irresponsible and morally compromised all because she’d lowered her defenses and let him stay the night…. “That had nothing to do with it.”

  “What else could it be?” she said with a smirk.

  Determined to shut Lindstrom up, at least for the moment, he offered her a taunting grin. “You mean other than the fact that she’s worth two of you under any circumstances.”

  The call came
much sooner than Sophia had expected. She wished she’d ignored it, let it go to voice mail and saved herself the humiliation of facing Mayor Schilling and the other four council members when she already felt so beleaguered. But she wasn’t sure she’d feel any stronger tomorrow. Her days seemed to be getting steadily worse, no matter what she did. So she’d taken the call and received her summons and here she was, hurrying so she wouldn’t be late. Pride wouldn’t allow her to skulk off and hide just because the powers that be had obviously heard the rumors about her. She hadn’t had an affair with her stepfather. Despite Leonard and his attempts to damage her reputation, there’d been no impropriety on her part at all. And maybe she’d slept with Rod, which probably wasn’t the best decision, but she didn’t think one night’s escape affected her ability to do her job. If she was never really off duty, they had to give her enough leeway to live a little while she was on duty, didn’t they? Besides, technically she’d been off.

  But it wouldn’t matter. Not to most of the council. Bordertown was nothing if not conservative; it was surprising they’d promoted her to chief of police in the first place. And, whether her private life was any of their business or not, she had to answer to them. So she’d hold her head high and fulfill that responsibility along with all the rest.

  As she stood in the back of the room, Paul Fedorko glanced up and nudged Liz Torres, who was sitting next to him. Schilling was in the middle of a tirade about budget overages on the city park being built on Hampton Street, but everyone on the council was soon murmuring and fidgeting, and Sophia knew they were distracted by her presence. Their preoccupation became so noticeable that the short, stout mayor, who’d always reminded her of the man behind the mirrors in The Wizard of Oz, finally turned to see what was going on and gave up trying to make his point.

  “Chief St. Claire, thank you for responding to our invitation,” he said. “Please, come up and join us.”

  Taking a deep breath, she forced her legs to carry her to the conference table, where she sat in one of a handful of empty seats. Despite the mayor’s polite address, there was a frostiness in his manner that had never been there before. That, combined with the reluctance of certain people to look her in the eye, spelled trouble. She was going to be given another warning, probably a harsh one. They’d tell her that her behavior as a public servant was under constant scrutiny and that they expected her to comport herself as a true professional at all times. Then they’d make it clear, once again, that they required a quick resolution to the illegal immigrant murders. And she’d tell them about everything she’d been doing, hoping to convince them that she was, indeed, fulfilling the requirements of the job.

  She had no idea what they might have to say about Stuart’s death, however. Some of them had known him as well as she had. They were all grieving, which made the situation even worse and meant they’d want answers she didn’t have. Rod was the only person she knew with any kind of significant grudge against Stuart. She couldn’t guess why anyone else would want him dead, unless his murder was what they’d feared might happen all along, an act motivated by revenge against Americans. They wouldn’t want to hear that. But she wasn’t about to let Edna and her friends and relatives villainize Rod. Maybe he’d had issues with Stuart, but he didn’t kill him.

  Hoping she’d be able to convey that with sensitivity and clarity, she waited as Wayne Schilling turned the floor over to Liz Torres. Councilwoman Torres shuffled the papers in front of her, formed them into a neat stack and got to her feet. Instead of avoiding Sophia’s gaze the way she had a moment before, she nearly leveled her with an angry, piercing glare.

  “Chief St. Claire,” she said tightly. “It is with the utmost regret that I must make you aware of the terrible disappointment you have become to the city and, in particular, those members of this council who lobbied so hard to have you instated as chief of police. It was a first for the women of this town and I was especially pleased. I felt you’d do a good job, that you’d be honest and forthright—”

  “I’ve been both of those things!” Sophia interrupted, taking exception to the councilwoman’s tone.

  “Nevertheless, there has been substantial evidence of conduct unbecoming a public official.”

  Sophia also got to her feet. “If you’re referring to the picture you were shown at the—”

  Councilwoman Torres lifted her hand. “Please, allow me to finish.”

  Stifling all the protests that clogged her throat, Sophia kept still.

  “We have deliberated long and hard on what should be done about your behavior,” she continued. “Most of the afternoon, in fact. And it is with great sadness and reluctance that I must inform you we need to make a change.”

  This didn’t sound anything like her previous warnings. No one else was chiming in, redirecting the conversation, disagreeing, adding details. Everyone, except Torres, who Sophia now understood to be her “executioner,” sat still.

  “What are you saying?” Sophia asked. “Are you firing me?”

  “We’re giving you thirty days’ notice, Chief St. Claire. We’ll be interviewing other candidates for the position of chief at our earliest convenience.”

  Heart pounding, Sophia straightened her shoulders. She had so much to say. And yet there was one question that seemed more important than all the rest. “And do those candidates include Leonard Taylor?”

  Liz bent her head. “If Mr. Taylor cares to apply, we’ll consider his application as well as everyone else’s.”

  “He raped a woman!”

  “A nasty accusation to be sure, but one that’s never been proven. For all we know, his accuser was lying to get back at him for some slight. Or…you were.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “I don’t want to believe that. But we can’t ignore that you had sufficient motivation.”

  “This is unreal!”

  “That’s it for now. We will address our specific complaints in a formal letter.”

  Sophia swept her arm around the room. “Why not do it now? When we’re all sitting here face-to-face?”

  Richard Lantus coughed into his hand. Deep down he knew, and so did one or two of the others, that they were using gossip as an excuse to get rid of her. Her age and gender were the real reasons behind this, just as they’d been the issues that had caused problems with her appointment. She was fine when policing the city consisted of passing out a few parking tickets and hauling in drunks, but give her a murder case and even Paul Fedorko pulled his support. Now that the situation had turned dicey, they were too afraid to go out on a limb. And although Liz claimed to be big on women’s rights, she cared more about punishing Sophia for the sin of fornication than she did advancing the cause of women. She’d recently become a very devout follower of her faith and seemed compelled to push her religion onto others.

  “Fine,” she said. “If you must know, we have taken testimony from Detective Lindstrom—”

  “Who’s a good friend of Leonard Taylor’s!” Sophia broke in. “Don’t you get it? This is the same fight we had before. Except now, those of you who were brave enough to take a stand against Leonard’s misuse of power are willing to embrace it again as long as it relieves the difficult situation we’ve found ourselves in. You don’t believe I’m capable of solving the UDA murders. But how do you know the next person will be any better? These are random slayings, the hardest to deal with.”

  “Leonard Taylor says he could’ve solved them by now.” This came from Paul Fedorko, which only proved her theory about his defection.

  “If he knows something about these murders and he’s not coming forward, he deserves to be punished right along with the perpetrator,” she said.

  “It’s not just the UDA murders,” Torres responded with that same disapproving tone. “We talked to Dr. Vonnegut, too. Everyone has issues with you. And now, one of our own is dead—God rest his soul.”

  “You’re blaming me for that?”

  “Of course not. But we can’t help w
ondering if we’d had someone who was taking the job more seriously—”

  The ferocity with which Sophia shoved aside the empty chair between them surprised Liz into silence. “More seriously than working day and night?” she cried.

  “You were hardly working last night, now were you, Chief?” The speaker was Neil Munoz, who’d stood by Leonard Taylor from the beginning. His smug smile told Sophia he’d been looking forward to this moment as much as Leonard.

  “Unless Mr. Guerrero made some form of payment we’re not aware of…” he added as an aside to Schilling, who snickered.

  “I had consensual sex with a man my own age and in the privacy of my own home,” she said. “I don’t see how that affects my job.”

  Liz jumped back into the fray. “It doesn’t look good. You’re the chief of police, for crying out loud. Show some restraint. I mean, we’ve got naked pictures of you floating around, and…and rumors that you’re having a sexual relationship with your stepfather, and—”

  “None of that is true! I slept with Rod. That’s it.”

  Her expression remained pinched with distaste. “Still…”

  “Still?” Sophia burst out. “None of us are perfect, Councilwoman Torres. Weren’t you kicked out of your church once upon a time for getting pregnant out of wedlock?”

  Liz’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. Her shock and embarrassment were gratifying enough to make Sophia want to go around the room, naming something that would embarrass them all. But what was the point? These people held a great deal of power in Bordertown, and they felt it gave them the right to be judgmental and self-righteous whenever it suited their purposes. Obviously, the political winds had changed, and she was caught in the cross draft.

  “How dare you!” Liz sputtered when no one else came to her defense.

  “No, how dare you,” Sophia responded.

  “Does that mean you quit?” Neil sang out, and it was then that Sophia realized she was destroying all hope for a career in law enforcement by letting her anger take control. She was also paving the way for Leonard to get what he wanted. She had to rein in her temper, get ahold of herself.